Chapter 21: I'm Ordering You

Weeks turned into months, the air in the development workshop buzzing with a frenetic energy. Adi, his mind alight with ideas, his hands working tirelessly, led a team of dedicated developers, their faces etched with a mixture of excitement and determination. They were crafting something revolutionary, something that would change the world.

The first prototype of the gun was finally ready. The barrel was thick, but short, a departure from the long, slender barrels of muskets. The hammer and trigger were prominent, a stark contrast to the side-mounted flintlock mechanisms of muskets. Adi's gun had a unique design, its handle crafted by a master craftsman, its grip perfect, its design intricate, unlike any other gun ever created.

Hadid, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride, added an aiming device to the barrel. It was a simple iron sight, a rudimentary but effective tool for improving accuracy.

The time for testing had arrived. Hadid, his face serious, his eyes filled with a steely determination, stood beside Adi. He had chosen a Niziari member, a seasoned hunter, to use a musket in a competition. They would be firing at the same target, from the same distance, 200 meters. They would have the same number of shots.

A horn sounded, signaling the start of the competition. Twenty jars, each containing a single bullet, were placed in front of both Adi and the Niziari member.

Adi, his movements fluid, his hands working with a practiced ease, opened his gun, ejected the spent shell, and loaded a new bullet. He repeated this process, his speed astonishing, his efficiency breathtaking. He finished reloading in three seconds, a stark contrast to the musket, which took twenty seconds to reload.

Adi fired, his aim true, his shot striking the target. He reloaded, fired again, and again, his movements a blur of motion. He finished the competition in a minute, his accuracy impeccable, his speed unmatched.

The elders, their faces a mixture of shock and awe, watched in stunned silence. They had never seen anything like it. Adi's gun was a marvel of engineering, a testament to his ingenuity, his dedication, his skill.

Al Mussad, his eyes wide with admiration, approached Adi. "How did you do that?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Adi, his face beaming, explained the process, his words flowing effortlessly, his passion evident in every detail. He showed how he opened the gun, ejected the spent shell, and loaded a new bullet, all in a rapid, efficient sequence.

The elders, their faces now filled with excitement, turned to Hadid.

"Can we use such a weapon in Niziari?" Al Mussad asked, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and anticipation.

Hadid, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride, nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice a low rumble. "This is the future. This is the weapon that will change the world."

He turned to Adi, his face beaming. "Congratulations, Adi," he said, his voice filled with a sense of gratitude and admiration. "This is a remarkable achievement. We need to make more of these. This will be our new weapon. But it needs to be a secret to the world."

Adi, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and responsibility, nodded. He was ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. He was ready to create a weapon that would change the world. He was ready to make a difference.

The development team, fueled by a newfound sense of purpose, worked tirelessly, their hands moving with a practiced ease, their minds focused on a single goal: mass production. Under Hadid's watchful eye, they churned out guns and ammunition, their efforts a whirlwind of activity.

At the end of the month, they had managed to produce forty short-barreled guns, replicas of Adi's design, and forty long-barreled guns, designed for greater accuracy at long distances. The developers, their faces etched with a mixture of pride and exhaustion, continued their work, constantly striving to improve their creations, to make them more efficient, more powerful, more deadly.

Hadid, his eyes gleaming with a hint of satisfaction, oversaw the entire operation, his mind constantly buzzing with new ideas, new strategies, new ways to improve the weapons. He was a visionary, a leader, a driving force behind the Niziari's technological advancement.

One evening, Al Mussad called Adi to his office. Adi, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, entered the room. Al Mussad, his face serious, his eyes filled with a steely determination, gestured towards a stack of papers, thick and heavy.

"What is this?" Adi asked, his voice filled with a hint of curiosity.

"Remember the Duke?" Al Mussad asked, his voice a low rumble. "Vinzenso?"

"Yes," Adi replied, his mind recalling the events in Marid, the chaos, the violence, the betrayal.

"Well, as you've been busy making weapons here in Niziari," Al Mussad said, his voice laced with a hint of urgency, "I've tasked some Blenders with finding the culprits who tried to kill your master. And these are the results."

He handed Adi the stack of papers.

"There are nine targets," Al Mussad said, his voice a low growl. "Minus two, which are your first target and the second one killed by the Marid branch. That's all I've been doing for the past six months."

"Thank you, Al," Adi said, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and respect.

Al Mussad nodded, his eyes fixed on Adi. He handed him a file filled with reports.

"As you can see," Al Mussad said, his voice laced with a hint of concern, "all those nobles were visited by the masked man, wearing the clothes of the Ashari, before your master died. Even your master was visited by the same Ashari, but days later, your master died. Maybe there's a connection."

He paused, his eyes filled with a steely determination.

"I'm ordering you to go back to the kingdom," he said, his voice firm, his words carrying the weight of authority. "Pull all the weeds there, at the roots. Maybe your masked man will show up. Be ready in a week."

For the first time, Adi bowed his head, saluting Al Mussad.

Al Mussad laughed, his hand reaching out to touch Adi's shoulder. "You're my friend," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Stop that."

"I want to thank you," Adi said, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and respect. "For everything. I, Adrian, also named as Adi, thank you."

Al Mussad nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and concern.

"Now, Adi," he said, his voice firm, his words carrying the weight of authority. "I order you to hunt the masked man and finish all his followers."

Adi, his heart pounding with a mixture of determination and apprehension, nodded. He was ready. He was a Niziari now, a warrior, a hunter, a protector. He was ready to face the darkness, to fight for justice, to avenge his master. He was ready to hunt the masked man.