Legal Violence

After finishing the mental health check, Eddie went to the St. John's Police Station to file his records. As he was leaving, a sky-blue BMW 760 drove past them and then reversed back.

At that moment, Eddie and Creeper were about to cross the street and were startled by the sudden reversal of the car.

"Hey, buddy, did you buy your driver's license?" Eddie shouted in annoyance, waving his hand.

The BMW door opened, and a familiar face appeared before him—it was none other than Allen Brandon, the branch manager of the Montreal Bank's Newfoundland office.

"Eddie, I'm so excited to see you that I drove a little fast just now. Really sorry about that," Brandon said warmly. "What brings you to the police station?"

Since he was an acquaintance, Eddie felt awkward to say much and explained, "I'm here to apply for a gun license."

"Got it yet?"

"No, man, it'll take a few months. I just finished the mental test."

"Are you in a hurry for it? I mean the gun license."

"Not really, but of course, the sooner, the better."

Hearing this, Brandon smiled and said, "Give me your registration info. Let me go inside and see someone. You two wait for me at the café."

Eddie thought Brandon was just going to speed things up a bit. After about half an hour at the café, Brandon came back and handed him two orange certificates—his gun license and gun purchase permit.

"Already done?" Eddie found it unbelievable.

Brandon laughed, "The police chief here is my cousin, so you know how it goes. Don't worry, your file is spotless; the only thing is the application was submitted two months early."

Two months ago, Eddie was still struggling to get by on White Wave Island!

Eddie quickly thanked Brandon, who asked to meet for a meal sometime, then casually left.

Looking at the two certificates, Eddie felt emotional and said to Creeper, "I thought relationships were important back home, but I didn't expect Canada to be even more blatant."

Creeper shrugged, "That's normal. This is a capitalist society. Canadian dollars are the real connections here. Besides, a gun license is like a business license back home—you could get it done in a day or a year, it doesn't really matter."

With the gun license in hand, Eddie headed straight for a gun shop in Farewell Town.

Farewell Town, being far from the mainland, was small but well-equipped—it was like a small bird with all its vital organs intact.

The gun store was named 'CESF Outdoor Supplies.' At first, Eddie thought the owner was into CF (CrossFire) or something like that.

Creeper explained, "CESF stands for The Canadian Emergency Special Forces. It's Canada's strongest military unit, and their special forces instructors are directly hired from the US Delta Force."

Pushing open the gun shop door, Eddie saw a sleek and imposing machine gun. He recognized it immediately—the MG-42, the most famous machine gun of World War II, a deadly weapon of the German army nicknamed the 'Buzzsaw,' whose presence meant heavy casualties.

"Welcome, gentlemen. What can I do for you? I'm the owner, Reggie Nielsen." The shop owner greeted them.

Eddie sized him up: a typical young white man, blond hair, blue eyes, under thirty years old, about 1.85 meters tall, wearing camouflage, muscular and lean like a fierce leopard.

"I want to buy guns—one handgun and one rifle—mainly for hunting and self-defense," Eddie said. He lived alone on the fishing farm, and it would be troublesome if someone with bad intentions came by sea.

Nielsen smiled upon seeing Creeper and greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Creeper. And this must be Eddie, the local star of our town. I've heard a lot about him from friends."

"For hunting and self-defense, I recommend USP, Glock, and M1911A1 pistols. Each has its pros and cons—USP has low recoil, Glock is very accurate, and M1911A1 packs a punch and was the US Army's standard pistol. It depends on your choice."

The shop looked like a 1990s convenience store back home, with a display area full of vintage guns, a long counter where Nielsen stood, and a rack behind him holding rifles. There were no machine guns or sniper rifles.

Whether in the US or Canada, not all guns can be sold in shops. They only sell civilian versions—basically, fully automatic rifles are converted to semi-auto, and some high-caliber guns have limited power.

Also, machine guns and ultra-precise sniper rifles aren't legally sold to civilians. Otherwise, someone could buy a Gatling gun and cause massacres in churches or schools.

Eddie asked, "Do you have Desert Eagles? I want to collect one."

Desert Eagles have huge recoil and small magazines, making them unsuitable for field combat, but they were made for hunting, especially large game like bears or wild boars, where USP or Glock wouldn't be enough.

Nielsen replied, "We do have them, but I don't recommend. High recoil and ammo is hard to find."

Eddie asked, "Can I try them?"

Nielsen smiled, "Of course. Pistol ammo is 20 CAD for 50 rounds, rifles are 32 CAD per round."

"What rifles are suitable?" Eddie asked.

He wasn't a military enthusiast, just a weapons lover, so although there were many rifles, he couldn't recognize them, especially civilian versions not even pictured back home.

"AR-15 is good. It's a civilian version of the M16 but just as powerful. It's easy to add accessories like flashlights, scopes, or infrared sights."

"If you like shotguns, we have Beretta M1 and Remington M870 series—both excellent."

"Do you have any AK series?" Eddie asked.

Nielsen laughed and shook his head, "AKs are too powerful, you can't buy them legally here. We do have downgraded AK versions, but they're weak—I bet you won't like them."

Eddie selected four pistols, two rifles, two shotguns, and bought fifty rounds of ammo for testing.

Before leaving, he spotted a familiar item—the Chinese Type 92 pistol.

Eddie had admired it for a long time, so he had to buy it—no need to test it.

The shop's shooting range was in a dried-up lake behind the store, perfect for avoiding stray bullets.

Nielsen fitted Eddie with ear protection and started with the USP.

Before shooting, Nielsen explained the rules: never point the gun at people, whether the safety is on or off; never tamper with a dud round; don't walk around while shooting, etc.

Most importantly, how to handle the gun safely—Nielsen worried Eddie might strain his chest or biceps after shooting so many guns.

Eddie disengaged the safety, aimed at a target, and pulled the trigger.

"Bang, bang…" The USP's sound was crisp and pleasant, with very little recoil. Eddie barely felt his wrist shake.

Nielsen was a bit stunned—this guy had stronger wrist power than expected.

After emptying two magazines, Eddie switched to Glock 43. This pistol was smaller and felt great—very smooth operation.

The M1911A1 was especially beautiful. Holding it, Eddie felt like a movie star. Doing some tactical moves, he almost got intoxicated by it.

It was indeed powerful. Eddie's palm was a bit small in comparison, but the recoil was manageable, and he had full control.

After testing pistols, they tried rifles. The AR-15 wasn't fully automatic, so after a few shots, Eddie felt it lacked punch. Nielsen understood and explained, "It's not hard to modify this gun for burst or full auto."

Shotguns were straightforward—just loud blasts.

Eddie, playing with guns for the first time, fell into a frenzy of excitement. He liked every gun he tested and casually said, "I'll buy them all."