Weapon seller in the world of magic-Chapter 814: Earth 1712: Solarus Cannon
Liu Wei blinked, caught off guard by his appearance followed the cryptic question. Sungjun, however, had anticipated such a check. He had created this code beforehand, a safeguard to ensure no one could impersonate him while he was away. Calmly, he replied, "Depends on what sketch the god used to draw in the sky."
As soon as the words were spoken, the man knelt, pressing his fist to the floor in a precise salute. "Welcome back, Boss."
Sungjun's lips curved into a small smile.
"At ease, Tempest."
He then gestured toward Liu Wei. "This is our guest. Show him the room."
Tempest's eyes flicked to Liu Wei, measuring him carefully. Sungjun's voice carried a quiet authority as he continued, "While you pledged loyalty to me, I don't simply take in anyone for their powers alone. I value character. But I also do not extend favors to strangers who have no reason to be involved in my affairs."
Sungjun folded his hands behind his head and regarded Liu Wei like a man examining a new piece of machinery. "I revived you because I don't want to carry the sin of killing you when we don't have any enmity. I could not bear to leave you dead after defeating the Spirit King Wendigo. And I extracted you because you pledged your loyalty—but that alone is not enough."
"Listen carefully, Brother Liu…" he continued. "I give you two choices." He counted them off with a fingertip. "One: join Pavel's operation — become part of our weapons manufacturing wing. Work for us. Earn your keep, learn discipline, and you'll be fed, paid, and protected. Two: stay here as a guest. Use whatever materials you need and build me two sets of gender‑neutral armor — Earth Grade, minimum. Finish them, and you'll write off the karma between us and buy your freedom."
He let the offer hang a moment, then added a third with a flat, cold clarity. "There's a third option, too: you can run. But if you go that way, understand this — you become an enemy of Pavel forever. So, choose wisely. Until then, take rest in one of our guest rooms."
Liu Wei's face flashed between relief and calculation. But, before he could answer, Sungjun slid forward and handed an unconscious Xing Lin to Tempest, who'd remained by the door like a shadow.
"After escorting our guest, Mr. Liu, to his room, take her to the medical wing," Sungjun said, voice hard now. "Run every test you have. Keep her unconscious until you know what you're dealing with. Seal her mana, though. Put an elite unit on guard — no exceptions. If she wakes early, or the knockout's less effective than we thought, suppress her. Don't kill her under any circumstances, even if she turns violent and hurts our members. She can be harmed, but not killed. Understood?"
Tempest bowed low, the motion precise and immediate. "Understood, Boss. She'll be quarantined and monitored."
Sungjun's face didn't soften, but the tone did: business finished. "You're dismissed. I'm going to sleep. We talk in the morning."
Tempest led Liu Wei while carrying Xing Lin in his arms. Meanwhile, Sungjun walked to the master bedroom and directly collapsed on the huge, impossibly soft bed, instead of washing up.
After almost two days of staying in the cell, Sungjun craved a nice sleep, and the moment he closed his eyes, he slipped into dreams almost instantly.
"Ugh… It's only been a few days, but it feels like forever," he murmured to the dark.
***
A few hours later;
As the sun rose slowly, still hiding behind the clouds, Sungjun sipped his coffee slowly, while music streamed lightly through his earpiece for a pleasant morning.
He was enjoying the sunrise. But before it happened, his personal smartphone buzzed sharply. The ID made his chest tighten for a second, showing Seongha. His fingers froze over the cup. "How do I even start this…" he thought, taking a deep breath.
He pressed the answer button in the end.
"Oppa…" Her voice trembled just enough to betray the worry and anxiety she tried to hide.
"Seongha…" he replied, his tone steady but with an edge of tension.
"I'm sorry I had to call so early, but I just heard you returned home… and I couldn't stop myself."
Sungjun exhaled slowly with his eyes drifting to the horizon. "Yeah… returned last night after escaping the prison," he said quietly.
There was a pause, filled with unspoken worry. Seongha's voice softened, hesitant, almost fragile. "What about my dad…"
Sungjun's jaw tightened. Words failed him for a few seconds. Finally, he said, carefully, "Let's meet. It's better to talk in person. I'll send the chopper. Come and meet me."
"But… he's alive, right?" she pressed, voice rising slightly with panic.
Sungjun stayed silent, letting the question linger in the cold morning air. Then, simply: "Let's talk."
The line went quiet, leaving only the rising sun as a witness to his nervousness.
A few hours later, Sungjun sat at his desk, scrolling through reports of the recent gang wars. He meticulously examined the aftermath: casualties, collateral damage, public infrastructure losses, and the strategic gains or losses of Pavel and his allies.
According to multiple online sources, the conflict had cost billions of credits globally. Some articles even speculated that the International Court might soon issue arrest warrants against every major organized criminal syndicate involved.
With Pavel no longer under the protection of Eva, the quantum AI, attempts by his network security and PR teams to suppress the stories proved futile. Articles, videos, reels, and posts kept resurfacing, spreading across the entire Siberian internet.
Behind the scenes, the Shen Triad subtly manipulated information—half-truths interspersed with carefully falsified reports—feeding chaos to the public and weakening Pavel's position further.
As Sungjun analyzed the data, wondering how he should deal with this matter, a knock sounded at the office door.
"Sir, Mr. Liu is here to meet you," an attendant announced.
Sungjun minimized the windows on his PC and replied, "Send him in."
Moments later, Liu Wei entered, wearing an awkward smile. Sungjun stood, gesturing toward the couch. "Take a seat."
Liu Wei nodded and sat down. Sungjun asked casually, "Want anything to drink, Brother?"
"No, thanks," Liu Wei replied.
Sungjun leaned back, waiting in silence. After a short pause, Liu Wei spoke, "I actually thought about your offer deeply."
"And?" Sungjun prompted, nonchalantly.
"For years, I made weapons for a dark guild," Liu Wei began, his voice steady but tinged with remorse. "That life… it got me thrown into prison, on death row. By luck, I survived and ended up here, but I don't want to go back to that world."
Liu Wei then folded his hands and met Sungjun's eyes. There was an honest fatigue in the man's voice as he spoke. "I'm perfectly aware that I'm only one man. I don't have the strength to stand against Pavel. Running isn't an option either. So I have a proposal that makes both win. I'll join Pavel, but I won't be a normal weaponsmith. If Pavel funds my work, I'll build prototype scientific weapons — not crude guns, not gang-grade explosives. Cutting-edge stuff. You sell or reverse-engineer it, your choice. I'll build whatever equipment you need based on your requirements that can be mass-produced. But there's one device I want to build, and I can't do it anywhere else. It needs resources and time."
Sungjun blinked, intrigued despite himself. "Alright," he said. "Go ahead and tell me about it. Convince me it's worth the trouble."
Liu Wei's hands moved as he explained, like a man sketching in the air. "Blueprints are mostly in my head. It's not a mana weapon — pure science. I call it the Solarus Cannon. With an artificial fusion core, it can harvest and compress stellar-level energy. Using magnetic confinement and a rail-accelerator, we compress plasma into a hyper‑dense bolt and launch it as a focused beam. It is more destructive than a nuclear warhead but without long‑term radiation. On impact, it vaporizes matter; energy release is immediate and contained."
Sungjun didn't have much change in his expression as it felt a bit ridiculous. But then again, he has no knowledge of this weapon tech. Hence, he could only listen till the end.
"Go on," he prompted. "Tell me what you need."
Liu Wei rattled off the parts like an obsessed scientist. "First, you need a high‑voltage power system — superconducting coils, niobium‑tin conductors.
For magnetic confinement, you need rare‑earth magnets — neodymium arrays — and ultra‑strong alloys like titanium‑zirconium.
The plasma barrel requires heat‑resistant ceramics, carbon composites, and tungsten liners. Cooling and regulation mean advanced cryogenics — liquid helium loops and vacuum infrastructure.
Guidance calls for supercomputing processors, photonic circuits, and adaptive optics.
Structural frame: reinforced carbon‑nanotube lattice and ultra‑light alloys, scandium‑aluminum composites.
That's just the hardware.
Fabrication, clean rooms, and testing facilities will double the cost. I need billions of credits of funding.
One supercomputing chip alone runs at least a hundred thousand credits.
We'd need—conservatively—on the order of a hundred thousand chips to build the kind of distributed photonic array and AI backbone I'm describing.
That's already 10 billion credits, and that's before you account for cryogenics, rare earths, fabrication, and secure facilities."
Sungjun let that sink in. The list was still long and a bit confusing. Hence, he couldn't comment on it. But since he cannot show weakness, he leaned forward and said. "In Short, this whole thing you wanted to build, it will cost me atleast 20 billion credits."
