While Nana gradually adapted to using her new avatar, exploring its limits and fine-tuning her control over this additional body, Joel wasted no time and began working with his new tools. For the first time, the shelter had a functional industrial workshop, and he was going to test it with a new product. Specifically, a new weapon.

  Joel was very clear about his objective. The mercenary company was still in the midst of recruitment, and although it had competent fighters, most of them were equipped far below the standards he desired. Equipping them all with mystical artifacts was feasible, but he wanted to produce something different, more modern and effective. Capable of mass production.

  The first thing he thought of was a weapon. But not just any weapon. Joel was looking for something that could be manufactured entirely within the shelter, using common materials and resorting to magic only when absolutely necessary. A reproducible, scalable, and, above all, reliable weapon. Something that didn't depend on specific mystical affinities or complex magical circuits.

  He wanted a simple, easy-to-operate firearm. Not an archaic, slow, and inaccurate musket, but neither was it a modern weapon with dozens of moving parts and delicate mechanisms. His goal was somewhere in between: a primitive breech-loading rifle model, with the fewest possible parts, capable of using simple ammunition.

  The logic behind that choice was twofold. On the one hand, he needed the project to be viable as a first industrial attempt. Something that could be manufactured with the tools in the new workshop, without requiring impossible tolerances or overly complex processes. On the other hand, mechanical simplicity opened the door to something much more important: increased destructive power.

  With fewer moving parts and no need for automatic mechanisms, the weapon could be designed to withstand heavier ammunition and much higher muzzle velocities. Joel had no intention of designing a comfortable or elegant weapon. He was thinking of something brutally effective.

  After all, these weapons wouldn't be intended for civilians or ordinary soldiers, but for level one or two mystic warriors. Individuals capable of easily withstanding considerable recoil and maneuvering heavier-than-usual weapons. The weight and discomfort were an acceptable price to pay if it meant greater lethality.

  Firearms, as a concept, were not entirely unknown on Gaea. However, their presence in most of the world was anecdotal and extremely limited. Only the dwarves had shown any real interest in their development. Even so, what they crafted could hardly be considered firearms in the strict sense. They were more like mystical artifacts, called hand cannons or arcane cannons, which most of the time did not fire physical projectiles, but discharges of condensed energy.

  Formidable weapons, yes, but also prohibitively expensive. Only a few dwarven mystic warriors used them, primarily for their range and accuracy, and always as exceptional pieces within a much larger arsenal. Joel had never seen one in person, only heard tales and vague descriptions. But what he had seen were the larger-scale versions.

  In several major cities, enormous arcane cannons were mounted on towers and walls, always pointed outwards. As far as he could gather, their function was to carry out precision attacks: destroying siege engines, taking down large beasts, or attempting to eliminate enemy commanders from long range.

  The main problem they presented was the cost. Firing one of those cannons required absurd amounts of energy crystals, unless the operator was a mystic warrior of the highest level, capable of powering the weapon with their own energy. For most cities, each shot was a strategic investment that could not be wasted.

  In the case of the rifle prototype, Joel ultimately opted for a simple design, based on the break-action reloading mechanism. It was robust, reliable, and, above all, incredibly simple from a mechanical standpoint. Just what he needed for his first industrial project.

  Furthermore, in the firing system, he decided to go a step further and completely eliminate the classic trigger and hammer mechanism. Instead, he opted to integrate a magical firing mechanism, a decision that drastically reduced the number of small parts, points of failure, and assembly time. Thanks to this, the cartridges also wouldn't need a primer, further simplifying their manufacture. This concession translated into a future logistical advantage.

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  He started with the most important part: the barrel.

  Using the strongest steel he could produce in the shelter and with the help of the industrial lathe, Joel fabricated a meter-long barrel, completely oversized and designed to be virtually unbreakable. It was designed to fire 20-millimeter projectiles, an excessive caliber for a portable weapon, but perfectly reasonable considering that the weapon would be intended for mystical warriors, who would need to be able to withstand the weapon's brutal recoil.

  The process was far from simple. It took numerous attempts to obtain a barrel that met his own standards, and producing the internal rifling proved even more difficult. Without specialized tools, Joel had to improvise his own methods, adjusting his tools and correcting imperfections again and again, until he achieved an acceptable pattern that guaranteed stability and basic accuracy for the projectile.

  The rest of the weapon's body was, by comparison, simpler. Even so, the manufacture of each part required time, patience, and several attempts. The opening mechanism, the structural safeties, and the overall assembly progressed slowly, but without serious setbacks.

  Meanwhile, Nana took charge of the aspect that Joel had decided to delegate entirely: the magical firing mechanism.

  She designed a simple yet effective mechanism using mystical seals, a minimal, carefully calibrated fire discharge to ignite the cartridge's gunpowder without wasting much energy. It wasn't a complex or demanding spell; in fact, it was intended to be stable, repeatable, and easy to reload. Almost any mystical warrior should be able to charge the pseudo-battery within the system.

  With the weapon nearly complete, Joel faced the challenge he hadn't initially anticipated as the most problematic: the cartridge. The idea of ??manufacturing jacketed bullets was discarded almost immediately. The level of precision and the necessary tooling made it unfeasible in the short term. Instead, he opted for a much simpler design: solid lead bullets, cast in molds he had to make himself. Working with molten metal brought its own set of problems, but at least it was a process he could control and repeat with some consistency.

  The real nightmare was the case. Typically made of bronze and produced through a long chain of industrial processes—flattening, cutting, pressing, drawing, and grinding—its manufacture required an infrastructure and tools that simply didn't exist in the workshop. Attempting to reproduce something similar required a much greater advance in industrial technology.

  So Joel decided to simplify things. Instead, he designed the cartridges using thick waxed paper as a coating—a rudimentary solution, but surprisingly effective under the circumstances. The paper served its purpose as a container for the gunpowder and projectile, was easy to produce, and offered ample margins of error. Furthermore, since it didn't require a primer, the resulting cartridge was remarkably simple.

  The only drawback was obvious: after each shot, bits of paper would remain inside the barrel, necessitating regular cleaning. A minor problem, considering everything else.

  Gunpowder was the next hurdle in Joel's path. If he wanted the weapon to be mass-produced, he would have to be able to manufacture the explosive entirely on Gaea. The formula itself wasn't a great mystery. He knew the basic proportions well, and both charcoal and sulfur could be obtained without too much trouble. The problem was finding the nitrate, or whatever they call it in this world.

  Joel knew that rudimentary methods existed for obtaining nitrate through lengthy and unpleasant processes, such as urine fermentation. A slow and unappealing procedure, even for someone accustomed to extreme solutions. He considered the option for a moment… and then dismissed it.

  Instead, he resorted to a temporary solution and simply conjured up a few barrels of black powder from his memory, just enough to conduct initial tests. He wasn't willing to fully commit to a process he wasn't yet sure was worthwhile. First, he needed to be certain that the entire setup—gun and ammunition—worked as he had envisioned.

  Likewise, his decision to use black powder was deliberate, ruling out any attempt to reproduce smokeless powder. And it wasn't a decision based on efficiency, but on realism. Modern gunpowder required chemical processes too complex for him, while black powder, although less energetic, could be produced consistently, provided he could obtain the raw materials.

  Its lower power didn't worry him too much. After all, the weapon's design naturally compensated for this deficiency. Simply increasing the explosive charge solved the problem. The added weight wasn't a drawback.

  More than a month passed before the first prototype was complete, and when the time finally came for testing, the result exceeded even his own expectations. The weapon was incredibly robust, reliable in its operation, and, above all, brutally effective. More than a rifle, it behaved like a portable cannon, capable of projecting death at distances few would expect from a handheld weapon.

  In the initial tests, the lead projectile failed to break the sound barrier. However, its considerable mass more than compensated for this in terms of the energy it transferred upon impact, maintaining a high lethality potential, even at four or five hundred meters.

  The rifle was undoubtedly heavy, clunky, and slow to reload. There was no elegance in its design nor speed in its use. But it was remarkably easy to operate and maintain, even for someone with minimal training. Moreover, the long barrel provided outstanding accuracy at long ranges, something that neither bows nor crossbows could consistently match.

  Joel surveyed the finished weapon with great satisfaction. It wasn't a symbol of refined progress or a work of art. It was an honest, brutal, and functional tool. And, for his mercenary company, it represented the perfect replacement for the old bows and crossbows.