110. Indefinite Event: Buying a Gun

After Dean’s parents disappeared, Paqier reported it to the police and conducted extensive private investigations, even hiring a private detective. Unfortunately, in those days, information was extremely limited. The only clue he found was that Dean’s sister and brother-in-law had once entered Hawkins Town. Whether they vanished within the town or somewhere along their eastward journey after leaving the town remained uncertain. Paqier’s investigation has been intermittent and ongoing, yet no progress has been made.

…

After hearing this, a subtle prompt flickered before Dean’s eyes—

You have triggered a new event—Bloodline.

You have learned from Paqier about the past of your original self’s missing parents eight years ago, as well as their last known whereabouts. The clues are extremely scarce, and hope is faint. If you wish to investigate, you must trace the footprints they left many years ago and follow the path ahead.

This is destined to be an extraordinarily long and arduous investigation, spanning a great distance.

Event difficulty: Unknown (key information lacking)

Progress: 0/100

Deadline: None

Reward: Gradually accumulative

Penalty: None…

You may choose to accept or decline this event.

…

This was the first time Dean had received such an uncertain event. The description suggested it might take months or even years without results, but the reward would undoubtedly be exceptionally generous. Moreover, after his recent level-up, he gained an additional event slot. Accepting this long-term event would still leave him one spare slot for other events.

“Accept,” Dean whispered.

The event slot changed from 0/2 to 1/2.

“This was the route they traveled,” Paqier handed over a map of America marked fully with points east from Las Vegas. “You can try looking into it when you have time.”

“Mm.” Dean pondered that after graduating in a few months, he could drive along this route to explore.

“All right, everyone, it’s getting late, time to rest,” Paqier said.

…

The night passed, and the next morning, Dean awoke from meditation and crept down the creaking old staircase to the hall.

Paqier, apron-clad, carefully placed a plated breakfast on the table and sat opposite Dean. His large, calloused hands clumsily wielded a tiny knife and fork to cut into eggs and bacon—a comical image of a bear fumbling with an embroidery needle.

“I’ve neglected you too much before. Starting today, until I move back to Hawkins Town, I’ll prepare you nutritious and delicious breakfasts every day…”

“Nutritious and delicious? Are you just using me as a cooking experiment?” Dean glanced suspiciously at the blackened, unidentifiable food on his plate but found the taste acceptable once he took a bite.

His expression softened as he scrutinized the ragged vest Paqier wore, so worn that the fabric was sticking.

“Later, come with me to the mall. We’ll get you some suits and casual wear—look your absolute best when you return home to meet your old classmates. You might even rekindle some first loves.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Paqier clenched his fists, resting them on each side of his plate, and proudly lifted his chin. “This is the most natural and authentic state. No need to dress like some polished gentleman.”

“No woman likes a sloppy, unclean man,” Dean shot back, eyeing his uncle’s grimy ponytail. “When was the last time you washed your hair? It’s been a month, hasn’t it? You’re about to grow lice. Oh no, I think I just saw them jumping around in there.”

Paqier’s face darkened.

“You’re getting more and more disrespectful. You used to revere your uncle so much, now you always tease me.”

“I may be younger, but I know how to take care of myself better than you. I’ve had more girlfriends and more experience. Trust me on this!”

After breakfast, Dean took Paqier to the commercial street for a haircut and bought him a blue suit.

With this makeover, the fierce, unkempt middle-aged man finally showed a hint of masculine charm.

Standing tall at 1.9 meters, his muscular frame bulged beneath the suit. Though his rough skin and rugged face gave him a fierce look, he exuded a strong masculine allure.

“Not bad. You’ve finally upgraded from ‘no woman would like you’ to ‘you have some charm!’”

The big man stared at his renewed reflection with a flicker of surprise but shook his head stubbornly.

“Any man, no matter how ugly, looks ‘charming’ after putting on a two-thousand-dollar suit and shoes.”

“Then I’ll make you even more handsome,” Dean pulled out a credit card he had just gotten and swiped it, carrying several shopping bags. “Come on, let’s keep shopping!”

“What else do we need?”

“How can a successful man be without a watch?”

…

After a spree of shopping, they collapsed on the car’s sofa at three in the afternoon, gasping for breath.

Paqier rubbed his suit and winced. “I worked my ass off for a month’s salary just to buy this outfit.”

“Everyone deserves a few indulgences in life.” Dean’s eyes gleamed with nostalgia. Swiping the credit card was quite thrilling. No wonder Americans are crazy for this little tool of pre-spending. “It’s getting late today. Tomorrow I’ll buy you a car for commuting.”

“What car? My old ride is still solid.”

“If you keep riding your motorcycle back home, it’s basically announcing you’re broke. That won’t do. You must go back with dignity—buy a house, meet old friends, then get married.”

“You planned out the rest of my life without asking me?” Paqier’s expression held both gratitude and helplessness. “So who’s the uncle here, me or you?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind swapping generations with you.”

“Wait until we get back to the yard. I’ll show you who’s boss,” Paqier clenched his fists and threatened fiercely, then his face stiffened, realizing he couldn’t win against this nephew. “Forget it. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the shooting range.”

“Not tomorrow, now. And help me buy some special weapons from Andre,” Dean seized the opportunity to make a request. “Yeah, some special stuff.”

“You’re a high schooler. Why do you need those? Will you even use them?”

“A detective walks the gray line. One wrong step and you could offend someone and be hunted. These powerful weapons give me security.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

…

Though Paqier grumbled, he supported Dean in action.

At the combat shooting range—

“Long time no see, buddy. Welcome back in one piece!” Andre laughed heartily as he approached from the firing line, spreading his arms for a bear hug of Paqier, and eyeing his black suit with surprise. “You look better. Changed your style? Got married?”

“Ha! It’s that kid Dean. Made some money and insisted on buying me new clothes. This suit costs more than my monthly income.” Paqier complained but his rugged face was full of joy and pride, grinning so wide his mouth wouldn’t close. “He even said he’d help me buy a car and a house back home…”

“Stop! I get it now. You’re here just to show off in front of this lonely old man? Tonight, I have to get you drunk!”

“Wait a sec. Dean wants to buy some weapons here. For old times’ sake, let us see your collection and maybe give a discount?”

“No way. Business is business, friendship is friendship.”

Dean watched the two arguing men from a distance, quietly summoning a shadow and gazing at its ethereal, misty face.

“Buddy, I’ve gone all out for the happiness of your family. Shouldn’t you repay me? Can you speed up your growth?”

“Mm.” The shadow’s dull eyes grew firm.

…

Under Paqier’s persuasion, the shooting range owner Andre fully opened his private arsenal to Dean.

The dazzling array of weapons overwhelmed Dean.

After careful consideration, he bought a fully automatic AR-15, an MP5 submachine gun, a Remington M870 shotgun, and most importantly, a devastatingly powerful weapon—a bright orange-yellow MacMillan TAC-50 anti-material sniper rifle, 1448mm in length, weighing 11.8kg.

He also purchased a total of two thousand rounds of ammunition: .45 ACP, 5.56mm bullets, 9mm Parabellum handgun rounds, 12-gauge shotgun shells, and .50 BMG rounds.

Additional magazines, night-vision scopes, and other accessories.

Five oval-shaped M26 grenades.

A Kevlar bulletproof vest.

Dean spent nearly ten thousand dollars in cash, leaving his cash savings at one hundred and ten thousand.

Since this was a private transaction, the price was higher than public channels, but it was worth it. With these weapons, Dean’s combat power soared dramatically.

Then he frantically tested the guns while the two big men downed whiskey.

…

Until the moon rose, a satisfied Dean drove away from the shooting range with a drunken Paqier.

Paqier suddenly broke the silence from the passenger seat.

“Kid, have you picked a target?”

“What target?”

“The bank? If you’re not robbing banks, why buy so many weapons?”

“I use them for self-defense.” Dean’s expression was earnest.

“Don’t lie… hic… You’ve changed so much since I came back. I almost don’t recognize you.” Paqier’s hazy drunken eyes suddenly cleared. “But like you said before, we’re family and should support each other. If you run into danger or trouble, tell me.”

“Don’t worry, I will. But for now, you better think about what car you want tomorrow.”

…

Plans always fall short of changes.

Early the next morning, Dean received a phone call, and his smiling face turned grim.

“Sorry, Paqier, I can’t go car shopping with you today,” he apologized to his uncle, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. “You pick one yourself. I’ll give you my card.”

“Forget that damn car. What’s going on?”

Paqier set down the dark breakfast worriedly.

Dean took a deep breath.

“My good friend… Laster’s mother, Grace, has gone missing.”

(The chapter ends.)