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Chapter Seven: Choosing the Weapon
During his three-day break, William slept like a bear, completely engulfed in rest.
On the third day, hungry and low on energy, he went to the kitchen and filled a large bowl with every edible item he could find, eating calmly until he regained his strength.
After a few hours of lounging in a chair and indulging in laziness, he finally abandoned all idleness in the afternoon and headed to the armory to choose his weapon.
Harry was there. William saw him, greeted him, and approached.
Harry stood with his hands folded, pointing toward the shelves—silent, letting William make his choice. He was excited about William's decision but hid it behind a calm expression.
William's choice was an all-purpose umbrella. A simple, handy umbrella would be his weapon. Merlin had expected this—though he himself had a custom M21 sniper rifle in mind, elegant and precise.
William scanned the shelves full of weapons: swords and daggers, hidden blades, firearms from the size of a finger to long-range rifles capable of kilometers, and even fanciful weapons like Harry's umbrella, a pen, a Rubik's cube, or even nails.
He first looked at the combat uniforms. Each was a sample with different functions: cloaks, jackets, belts, and suits. Harry came beside him and said:
"Every King's Man needs a royal suit made from special fabric. These are custom-made. Look at the armor for harsh environments—bulletproof, heat and cold-resistant, maintaining body temperature in extreme conditions. Make your choice."
William's eyes were drawn to a black armored suit covering chest, stomach, and back. It had no special abilities beyond being bulletproof and incredibly lightweight—just three kilograms. He also picked gloves extending to his arms with built-in blades, and a black mask covering up to his eyes, capable of filtering poisonous or chemically contaminated air.
From another shelf, he chose a pair of simple daggers, crossed on his lower back. Then came the melee weapon selection—swords. Though he could have skipped it, William decided he needed to learn swordsmanship.
He scanned the swords: from long, two-handed blades to slim ninja-style swords. He picked a pair of single-handed, Greek-style blades made of a sharp, broad alloy, famous for their lethality—called the Spartan Sword—which he would carry on his back.
For handguns, he chose the HZ-75, a 9mm pistol with a 15-round magazine. It had two firing modes: single shot or double shot. The gun was exceptionally ergonomic.
For long-range, he picked the PSG1, a German sniper rifle with an 800-meter range, perfect for urban warfare and counter-terrorism.
With Harry's and Merlin's disappointed gazes upon him, William packed his gear into a backpack and headed toward the training area.
Long-range shooting required extensive, repeated practice. William's days included not only pistol and sniper training but also swordsmanship, dagger combat, hand-to-hand combat, and sacred daily exercises for the "bald ones." He attended advanced classes in basic sciences, too. He slept only four hours a day, treating even rest as training. Weapons had to be in hand at all times, ready for any dangerous situation.
This training was like walking a narrow path for William's damaged mind. Every moment, every minute, he forced himself to survive in this dangerous world. His mind hardened through relentless practice, his heart detached from life's beauty, transforming him into a killing machine, a sharp blade for the King's Men.
William became like clay in the hands of others, shaped exactly as they wished.
He was bound by responsibility, all his desires shackled, his mind filled with words of victory against life and defeat against death.
The depths of his heart were sealed by the methods of psychiatrists, pushed further toward the cliff.
Each passing day brought the cliff closer. William stared at it with focused, conscious eyes, ready to see the endless darkness—and the cliff, strangely, loved him back.
The last flicker of light in the darkness still shimmered faintly.
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