"How does it feel to be bulletproof, kid?" Yuri asked. And as if throwing a shot glass at him wasn't enough, he also threw a punch—his fist never connecting. "Oof, ouch. Amazing, right?!"
Konrad wanted to analyze it so hard, but couldn't.
"Are you kidding me?" he asked, struggling to keep his jaw up. "I'm completely bulletproof?!"
"Ah, haha."
The leader of the Wolves did not look him in the eyes.
"Let's say, about sixty percent bulletproof," Walther answered instead. "But it could stop a 9 mm about eight times out of ten, even if we shot head-on. Only twice out of ten with a 5.45, though."
Oh. Well, that did not sound bulletproof at all.
"But it's even better when it's not a straight shot," Yuri claimed. "If you stand sideways and wear an actual bulletproof vest, nothing we had would go through it. From .45 ACP to 7.62—"
"That's a lot of numbers, but they mean nothing to me," Konrad noted, holding up his hands.
And was he the only one feeling hot?
The Mama's Beads were almost burning him.
Dmitry sighed.
His lack of military knowledge seemed to have a sobering effect on him.
"Your Makarov is in 9 mm. The AKs are in 5.45. And, um—what do you guys even have in 7.62?"
"An RPK," Yuri said, puffing his chest.
"Great, now you went from numbers to random letters," Konrad moaned, still clueless.
But the artifact they brought seemed useful, even if far from perfect.
Well, did he say it was getting very hot?
"Hah, if it's actually bulletproof, test it on my NSVT," the Barkeep grinned, leaning over the counter. Those letters, Konrad knew. They referred to that .50 machine gun at the entrance.
And yeah.
"No, thanks," he shook his head, trying to hand that artifact back. "Not when it's on me."
That's when he saw the others' expressions.
There had to be something else they didn't tell him yet.
"We didn't bring extra Sponges, so we can't test it now," Walther said.
And he looked like he bit into a lemon.
"In theory, holding this and a Soul would make you invincible to sidearms," Yuri claimed. "The only problem is the radiation. It's higher than any high-grade artifact we found so far."
So that's why it was burning his hand?!
He had his Bubble underneath his jacket, and a Stone Blood.
Konrad didn't feel the symptoms of radiation sickness yet, but it must have been on the edge.
That sounded like a huge drawback, making him want to put it down, but—
"It's the perfect artifact to take with us against those snipers," the Captain muttered.
Konrad sighed, rolling his eyes.
"I thought we already agreed that we're not doing that."
But Dmitry kept moaning.
"Come on. If this is not a heavenly sign that we should do it, I don't know what is."
"Yeah. You've no idea," Konrad grunted, shaking his head. But he had an idea. "Why don't you take it? You were the one schooling every Stalker earlier. I can lend you my other artifacts, too."
He thought that if he offered, Dmitry would finally back down and forget about it.
But his reaction was—
"Oh, I eat snipers for breakfast without that, too. I only wanted to keep you safe, mate."
This guy. And he said that with a straight face.
Was he still drunk?
But then, he did defeat everyone with those toy guns earlier.
"And hey," the Captain added. "You said you prefer swords, right? With this, you could bring one into a gunfight and survive. Wouldn't that be cool?!"
Yeah, definitely drunk.
And did Konrad ever say that out loud?!
"The word that comes to my mind is suicidal, not cool," he protested.
But, well, he did have a point.
And listening in on the Wolves' conversation with the Barkeep, he was almost sold on the idea.
"Anyway, we're heading back to the Garbage. Any news on the scientists' Psy protection thingy?"
Their host scratched his neck tattoo before answering, keeping his voice low.
"I heard that Strelok delivered them the materials they needed. But whether they have built it already, or if it works? I would rather test this artifact on a .50 than a gadget like that."
"Psy protection?" Konrad repeated, earning some hostile glances.
"Don't yell, kid," the Barkeep grunted. "I could have earned a few bucks with that info."
Ugh. He had already paid, though.
"Is it against the Brain Scorcher thing?" he pressed it anyway, but in a whisper this time.
There was a lot of shrugging before he got a straight answer.
"It might be—if it works," Yuri said. "But I can understand why dying would seem less scary than becoming a zombie while trying that out. We don't have 'em in the Garbage, but—"
"The swamp is full of them," Walther finished in his stead. "Especially around that mobile lab."
"That's why they try so hard to make one," the Barkeep scoffed. "They think it's easier than moving their heavy concrete thing. But when even Strelok is afraid of the Brain Scorcher?"
It sounded like he never actually went past that thing, then.
And that he would stick close to those scientists, until he could.
"Okay, fine," Konrad sighed, already hating himself for what he was about to say. "We should clear out those snipers then. Give that lab a visit. Better than waiting for our guy here."
Dmitry's eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading over his face.
"That's the spirit," he yelled, slamming Konrad's back. "Let's go fuck 'em up."
"Once you're sober."
Even if he was good with toys, and he had this bulletproof thingy, he'd rather not take chances.
"Yeah, yeah, fine," the Captain gave in, still grinning. "I wanted to take a look at the Barkeep's arsenal anyway. After all that talk about guns and sniping, I should buy something serious."
And now their grizzled host was grinning, too.
He rubbed his palms together in anticipation.
"I have the best selection available. Sidorovich might sell the rookies' guns, but all veterans come to me," he said. Like a typical hawking peddler now. "Feel free to browse."
"And here I thought guns were not allowed in here," Konrad scoffed, rolling his eyes.
The Barkeep shrugged.
"Business is business. I won't hand him a loaded gun for sure. If he wants to test-fire any of them, he can—but outside the perimeter. Then he can decide if he buys it or not."
Nah. That wasn't even a question at this point.
As soon as he pulled out a rack and put it over the counter, Dmitry was all over the place.
"You even have a Vintorez?!" he breathed, almost drooling. "How about the ammo?"
"What d'you take me for, kid?" the Barkeep scoffed. "I've magazines and rounds for every gun here," he claimed, eyes catching on the Mama's Beads. "Want more? I'll get some next week."
"Don't set up long-term orders now," Konrad sighed. "I don't want to be here that long."
Not without his magic, or any contact with Kasserlane.
Who knew if Halaima was still standing at that time?
Or if all his friends were alive and well?
"Don't worry, kid," the Captain said while he caressed an enormous gun. Did that thing even count as a handgun, or a cannon?! "I have everything I could ever need and more, right here."