Chapter 5: Guns and Development
Caloocan City
6:37 P.M.
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Louie stood in the shadow of a crumbling overpass, staring down at a narrow warehouse that reeked of rust and rotting rice. It wasn't much—just a wide, single-floor shell of cracked concrete and sagging corrugated roof. No electricity. No plumbing. Not even a real door.
But it was his.
₱15,000 for the first month, cash, paid to an old guy with half his teeth and a tremble in his hands. No questions asked.
This would be the first hub. Not the safehouse. Not a stash spot.
This was a node.
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Inside, Bravo-02 swept the corners while Delta-01 unwrapped a black duffel onto a folding table.
Louie followed, boots crunching through rat bones and broken glass. The light from his phone cast long, sharp shadows across the walls. He'd already stashed three long crates against the far wall: two M4A1s and a Scorpion Evo. All clean, all summoned, all ready.
But this wasn't just about firepower anymore.
He needed more reach.
More presence.
More muscle.
He opened the system.
> SYSTEM BALANCE: ₱36,180
SPENT: ₱659,490 / ₱1,000,000
(+₱10/min passive income)
He hovered over the [Summon Soldier] prompt.
This time, the image in his head wasn't a gangster or a killer.
It was presence.
A look that would make people think twice. Someone who could stand next to Louie during deals and make even hardened syndicate reps sit straighter.
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> SOLDIER DESIGN: CHARLIE-03
Height: 6'3
Build: Broad, imposing
Skin: Light brown
Face: Buzzcut, facial scars, empty gaze
Clothing: Black tactical cargo pants, fitted tank top, unzipped military jacket
Accessories: Dog tags, wrist wrap, burn scars on left hand
> [COST: ₱150,000] — CONFIRM?
Confirmed.
The air thickened.
He arrived in silence—right between Delta and Bravo. Towering. Calm. He didn't speak. Didn't need to.
Louie immediately equipped him.
> [EQUIP: Benelli M4 Shotgun — ₱3,200]
[12GA Ammo — ₱6/round] x50
[Tactical Vest — ₱2,400]
Charlie-03 accepted the gear without blinking, racking the shotgun with a clean metallic chunk, slinging it with precise movements that said this man had broken ribs before and hadn't noticed.
Three soldiers now. And not one of them had ever asked why.
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9:10 P.M. — Binondo
Louie sat across from a Chinese-Filipino middleman in a darkened herbal medicine shop. Incense burned behind jars of dried lizards and deer antlers.
The man's voice was low and bored. "₱300K worth of small arms. Pistol-heavy. They don't want rifles. Too loud."
Louie nodded. "All clean. Delivered in two nights. Three drop locations."
"I'm adding a markup."
"You always do."
"You're supplying half the kanto kids in Divisoria. Half of them don't even know what they're buying."
"That's not my problem," Louie said, standing. "You get your cut. I get mine."
He paused at the door.
"You want a bodyguard?"
The man looked up. "Why?"
Louie jerked his chin toward Charlie-03 waiting outside, standing between two parked motorcycles like he owned the concrete beneath his boots.
"Because it's about to get harder to stay alive in this city if you're selling from me."
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11:48 P.M. — Warehouse (Caloocan Node)
The crates had been moved into rows.
Louie stood at the center, breathing in dust and ambition. Delta patrolled the perimeter. Bravo stood over a table arranging pistols in foam. Charlie-03 was at the entrance, shotgun resting casually over his shoulder.
Three soldiers.
One node.
A rising client list.
He wasn't just selling now.
He was structuring.
A one-man army disguised as a ghost arms network. Every peso sold on the streets was more ammunition for growth. Every new weapon sold brought him closer to leveling the system. Every soldier summoned pushed his legend further out into the dark.
He could already hear the whispers in the underworld.
They didn't know his name yet.
But they would.