"...A gun?"
Ron froze for a brief moment, then he retracted his fishing line to touch that black gun.
"...Mine? Does someone in this world actually create guns?"
Ron fell silent for a moment. He tried to remember whether he had brought a gun along with him, which was of course a no. He had only brought a few gun components that he manufactured to help Quân understand better.
Ron immediately went outside and sat on a cold white stone bench to inspect the gun by himself.
"..."
From the cylinder, Ron pulled out a wooden bullet. It was molded from oak or something similar, carrying a fragrant scent that was nevertheless overwhelmed by the pollution of the air. Upon that wooden bullet, the sequence of numbers -2026- was also engraved.
Ron continued to feel the gun. He proficiently disassembled the weapon. It truly resembled a semi automatic pistol that could be taken apart and reassembled, yet it possessed a revolving cylinder. In reality, it was because all the components here were not meant to create a genuine firearm.
All the pieces were detached, mismatched, patchworked together, and completely unusable.
Ron picked up the cylinder and the gun grip. He observed them meticulously, then indeed found the thing he suspected.
"There is a small part engraved on each component."
Those were the symbols Ron used to mark the components he himself manufactured as experiments for firearms creation. They were the parts Ron brought along to teach Quân, but the last time he checked his bag, the components were still in their original places.
Ron immediately pulled out his notebook and recorded it down. This piece of information could absolutely bring a breakthrough for the future.
To be more cautious, he would not hesitate to use fishing lines to stitch this vital text onto his body, except that beautiful text would be stitched right upon Ron's wound.
"...This is truly a breakthrough."
Ron whispered then tucked the components into his coat pockets. He carried his frame toward the end of the train, where the technical car was located. He hoped that in this world, there would be some kind of black box storing information during accidents, so at least he would learn what had happened.
Ron looked around, confirming that there was no one else before opening the door of the car. Crashing into his eyes was a room flooded with magical machinery.
It resembled a bizarre mess rather than actual machinery, and there seemed to be absolutely no trace indicating that anyone had been here.
Meaning Ron could confirm that only two hundred and eight people were ever on the train yesterday, as well as the fact that he might not gather any further information due to the complexity of the train.
"...Should I ask for her help?"
Ron pondered for a brief moment, then concluded it was slightly risky. If anything were to happen, it would bring significant losses to either information or manpower.
Instead, looking for another location was better.
Ron looked toward the front of the train, which was the conductor's cabin. Actually, according to the experience Ron possessed, it was best not to let a child with a key sit inside a car.
Ron was not certain how it worked, but if the technical room was already full of magical equipment, the front car would be the same.
Sadly, Ron was not smart. In reality, aside from his memories as Joe, he had not received a proper education in this world, knowing only three spells, possessing a pitifully miserable amount of magic, and knowing nothing outside of a few summary books.
"Next year I will be sixteen years old, should I enter some academy?"
Ron asked himself. After all, existing in this world still required a bit of knowledge and information, but that was a matter for the future.
"As for now, just survive the demon first."