I Was Connected to Earth's Black Market From Another World With The Skill [Market]!

Chapter 15 – Distant Home

“…Hmm. I’m not saying it’s good, but it’s not that bad either.”

Myrril and I ate the warmed MREs on the bus. We built a fire a short distance away from the microbus and boiled a barrel of water in a pot we found in the wreckage of the horse-drawn carriage to boil the water. Although I had some kind of FR heater that heats up when you pour water into it, it was dark, and I couldn’t really read the instructions, so since it was too much trouble, I decided to boil it in the pot. It looks interesting, though, the heater.

The beastman children were lying on the floor, covered with the blankets Simon had given me and the cloths we had taken from the carriage. Not one of them has regained consciousness yet.

“In the meantime, I’d like to cut off their collars. I don’t know what it’s made of, but my little knife won’t cut it.”

“Well, eat. You’ll have a better idea when your stomach is full.”

In a retort pouch that looked like something out of desert camouflage, I found a piece of chicken in a rich tomato sauce, some kind of mashed potatoes, and something that looked like chili beans. Apart from that, there was some kind of damp cracker, a cheese-flavored paste, and a fruit-flavored juice made from dissolving powder — dried fruit.

None of it was inedible, but it tasted medicinal or artificial, and it wasn’t even good.

At any rate, I wouldn’t want to eat them all.

The sweet fruit-flavored snack bar and the colorful sugar-coated chocolate that came as a bonus were well received by Myrril. As for the coffee, she was not used to drinking it, and even though I added powdered milk and sugar, she drank it with a complicated expression on her face.

“If we weren’t in the middle of an escape, I wouldn’t mind shooting a deer or a boar or something.”

“In places where there are many beasts, there are also magical beasts that prey on them. You shouldn’t make any more noise than necessary. I don’t have the energy to dismantle them right now. I can’t afford to be extravagant at this time. I’m just thankful that my stomach is full.”

There are magical beasts, huh? I don’t know what they look like, but I certainly wouldn’t want to attract one in the forest at night.

Even in my former world, I heard that assault rifles, which are less powerful than hunting rifles, are not enough to deal with brown bears, for example. 7.62×39mm bullets used in AKs have about 75% of the firing energy of hunting rifles, so they are just barely enough. However, the 5.56x45mm (west side) and 5.45x39mm (east side) bullets, which are now the mainstream of military guns, are only about half as powerful as those for hunting. They are copper-coated warheads, so they will fall out even if they hit the target, making it impossible to kill large wild animals.

It’s a firearm intended for use against humans in the first place.

In order to protect myself in this world, I might need a more powerful firearm.

I asked for a rifle for sniping, but I couldn’t handle a bolt action in a situation where multiple enemies were chasing me.

If it is from around WW2, the same military rifle is also used in the West with 7.62×51mm ammunition, almost the same ammunition used in hunting rifles. It might be possible to ask for those automatic rifles called battle rifles to distinguish them from assault rifles. It is also possible to maximize the damage to the target by using a hunting warhead that cracks inside the body, but I wonder if there is such a thing available in the black market.

As I pondered this, I tried to convey it to Myrril in as simple terms as possible. I wanted her to get used to firearms and support me in the future, and she may want to know about it herself.

More importantly, with the conversation, the tastelessness of the MREs wouldn’t bother me as much.

“I don’t know. Bigger balls mean more power, don’t they?”

“The first number on the butt of the ammo is the caliber, the size of the warhead. The number behind it is the length of the casing, which is almost equal to the power. For example, the pistol I gave to Myrril was a .45 caliber, 11.2 millimeters, which is big, but it has less powder, so it’s only about a quarter as powerful as an AKM.

“The numbers… have different letter shapes.

“Oh, I see. Sorry, I forgot.”

In the middle of our conversation, I heard a small gurgling sound of the stomach.

I was in the middle of a meal, but I looked at Myrril suspiciously, and she shook her head with a slightly angry expression. I followed her gaze and looked around the car, and my eyes met with what looked like a mummy man with dog ears trying to hide behind the seat. It seems that it was having trouble escaping because we were at the entrance.

“Oh, that’s bad. Why don’t you come over here and have some food?”

There was no reply to my question. It only growled and bared its fangs. It seems hungry but doesn’t trust us.

“Who are you people? What are you doing here?”

After staring at each other for a while, the dog-eared one growled lowly in frustration. It’s hard to tell the gender of a beastman when they are children, but it seems to be a girl from the sound of the voice. She seemed to be acting like a man in order to protect herself, though.

When I was at a loss for a response, Myrril offered a helping hand.

“We’re just travelers who happened to be passing by. The people who attacked you almost killed us.”

“…And?”

“And we struck them back. Well, it was an easy battle, though, wasn’t it?”

“You’re lying.”

She knows, Myrril-san.

It’s not easy to win against that kind of force. Certainly, it was a dangerous situation when they came around. Perhaps the dwarf girl understood from my gaze; she lightly shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, it was a bit of a struggle, and we indeed killed them. And while we’re at it, I’d like to help you guys out, too, if you want a ride back to wherever it is you’re from.”

“It’s impossible.”

A voice full of conviction. It was too light to be called resignation.

“Well, let’s just say it. If we ride this, dozens of miles will pass in no time at all.”

“Casemaian. That’s where we’re from.”

Myrril’s face tensed up when she heard this. The expression slipped from her face, and the blood drained slightly.

“…I see. You’re right; it’s going to be hard to get there.”

“Is it far?”

Myrril shook her head quietly at my question. She looked back at me with a smile on her face, as if she was about to cry, and gave me a faraway look as if she were looking far behind me.

“It’s a subhuman country about 50 miles down the road. It was destroyed about a quarter of a century ago.”