Luke woke up at 5 a.m., feeling surprisingly well-rested. He had gone to bed early the previous night, at 10 p.m., after reading a bit more, leaving his body with enough time to recover from the mental exhaustion. He stretched slightly, rubbing his eyes before getting out of bed, then took a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead.

After a quick wash, he changed into a set of light clothes—loose cotton pants and a sleeveless tunic. He chose these specifically to keep himself cool and unrestricted for his morning jog. The material was breathable, allowing for ease of movement, unlike the heavier, more formal attire he had been wearing inside the mansion. His shoes were also designed for comfort, soft yet firm enough to support his feet for prolonged activity.

Once he was dressed, Luke stepped out of his room and made his way outside. The Timberdell mansion was massive, and the open space surrounding it was even more impressive. The large estate had a carefully maintained garden, stone pathways, and an expanse of land that made it perfect for a morning jog. He started off at a steady pace, feeling the crisp morning air fill his lungs as he moved. The gravel crunched under his feet as he circled the mansion grounds, observing the stillness of the early morning. Birds chirped in the distance, and the occasional rustle of leaves indicated small creatures waking up to begin their day.

A few maids took notice of him and approached politely, asking if he required anything, but he simply waved them off, assuring them he was just out for a light jog. He maintained his rhythm, his feet moving in a steady cadence as he increased his pace slightly. By the time he had completed several laps, he stopped for some stretching exercises. He did basic warm-ups, then moved on to squats, lunges, and push-ups, just like he used to do back on Earth.

What surprised him was how much longer he could last without getting tired. Back on Earth, he would’ve already been out of breath, but here, he felt his stamina carrying him further. His muscles burned, but it was a different kind of burn—not one of exhaustion but of adaptation. Seeing an opportunity, he decided to push his limits and ran even more until his legs could no longer keep up. Eventually, he collapsed onto the ground, huffing like crazy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

Just then, a translucent blue notification window appeared in front of him:

Strength +1
Agility +1

Luke’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He had read that increasing stats through mere exercise was quite difficult—usually requiring weeks or even months of effort—but here he was, earning stats after just one morning session. He quickly attributed it to his low starting stats and the passive bonus from his Gunner class’s Growth trait. The moment his stats increased, he felt a small but noticeable surge of energy returning to his body, as if his fatigue had been slightly lifted. He clenched his fists, appreciating the newfound vitality that coursed through him.

With a satisfied sigh, he pushed himself up and walked back toward the mansion’s entrance. Waiting for him at the doorway was Charles, who greeted him with a polite smile. Seeing Luke’s sweat-drenched body and his choice of light clothes, Charles’s smile deepened, pleased that Luke was already working so hard.

“Good morning, young master Luke,” Charles said smoothly. “I have spoken to Master Garhan, and as requested, we have arranged for guns and ammunition for your training. However, I must warn you, the firearms we managed to procure from the warehouse are in rather poor condition.”

Luke wasn’t surprised. Guns weren’t exactly common in Eldoria, and even if they were available, he wasn’t expecting high-quality ones. Still, he appreciated Charles’s efforts. “That’s great, Charles. You did a good job,” Luke said with a nod, before making his way back to his room.

Once inside, he wasted no time heading to the bathroom. He turned on the water, letting the warm stream cascade over his body, washing away the exhaustion of his morning workout. The refreshing sensation helped him clear his mind as he scrubbed himself down, making sure to rid himself of every last trace of sweat. The scent of herbal soap filled the air, soothing his senses as he methodically cleaned himself.

After stepping out of the bath, he reached for a comb and meticulously straightened his slightly damp hair, ensuring every strand was in place. He then applied a light layer of perfume—not too strong, just enough to keep himself fresh. Finally, he straightened out any creases in his clothes and examined himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, sharp blue eyes filled with determination. Even though he knew his appearance would soon be ruined by training, that was no excuse to abandon the one good habit he had maintained since Earth—keeping himself presentable.

He adjusted his collar slightly and took a deep breath. With everything in order, Luke exhaled softly and turned away from the mirror.

Luke had spent the previous night learning everything he could about firearms in this world, and what he found was, frankly, disappointing. Guns occupied a strange and rather unfortunate position in Eldoria’s arsenal. While they did exist, they were far from being a dominant weapon of choice. Even foot soldiers, who would have benefited from their long-range capabilities, rarely used them due to their impracticality. The primary reason? Cost.

Maintaining a firearm was vastly more expensive than keeping a sword, spear, or bow in working order. Gunpowder and bullets required constant replenishment, while melee weapons only needed occasional sharpening and minor repairs. But the real issue lay in their incompatibility with mana. In a world where magic enhanced nearly every weapon, guns remained stubbornly resistant to direct mana infusion—unless one spent an absurd amount of money upgrading them. Most users could only afford to imbue the bullets with mana, rather than the firearm itself, making it far less effective than, say, a magically enhanced sword or spear that could be endlessly empowered by the user’s mana pool.

Furthermore, the progress of firearm development was painfully slow. The best this world had to offer were flintlock pistols, muskets, and rifles, akin to those from the 16th and 17th centuries. They were slow to reload, unreliable in damp conditions, and lacked the rapid-fire capabilities that would have made them competitive against bows or crossbows. Against high-level opponents—those who could deflect bullets with enchanted armor, magically reinforce their bodies, or outright dodge thanks to superhuman speed—guns were practically useless.

Despite this, firearms hadn’t disappeared entirely. Nobles, ever obsessed with displaying their wealth, often kept ornate guns decorated with gems and precious metals, using them more as status symbols than as weapons. They were akin to ceremonial daggers—pretty to look at, but largely impractical in real combat. This meant that while guns did exist, they were uncommon and rarely respected in battle.

“Well, I guess I’ll be the one to educate these guys about the power of ‘pew pew,’” Luke mused to himself as he stepped out of the mansion, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Waiting for him at the entrance was Charles, who had already prepared a carriage. Without delay, Luke climbed inside, and they set off toward the Timberdell estate’s training grounds. Located near the forest’s edge, the facility was vast, designed to accommodate the Viscount’s personal army. As they arrived, Luke took note of the disciplined soldiers sparring, drilling, and practicing archery. The sharp clang of metal against metal filled the air, accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of marching and shouting instructors.

Charles led him to a more secluded area of the training grounds, where an assortment of dummies, targets, and training setups had been arranged—most likely in response to Luke’s request from the previous day. Seeing this level of sincerity from Garhan, Luke couldn’t help but feel a touch of gratitude.

“Thank you, Charles,” he said, giving the butler a nod before turning his attention to the weapon stand nearby.

What greeted him was… a mess. Boxes and barrels filled with flintlock pistols, muskets, and rifles sat in disarray. Scattered around were lead bullets, powder flasks, ramrods, wads, and other necessary components for using these antiquated firearms. Even at a glance, it was obvious that the guns were in poor condition—rusty, unpolished, and barely maintained. This starkly contrasted with the gleaming, well-maintained swords and spears he had seen the other soldiers wielding.

Luke let out a deep sigh. “Gotta make do with what I’ve got,” he muttered, steeling himself for what was to come.

Reaching into the barrel, he pulled out a flintlock pistol. The moment his fingers wrapped around the worn grip, a cascade of blue notification windows popped up in front of him.

The world has taken pity on your abysmal stats!

The Ultimate Gunner System has been unlocked!

From now on, your journey will be smooth sailing! Surely?

Achievement Unlocked!

Touch a gun for the first time!

Rewards: +2 Dexterity (New stat unlocked!)

A new sub-quest has been generated:

You have finally kickstarted your journey as a true Gunner!

Quest clear condition: Fire ten rounds

Quest failure penalty: None

Quest completion reward: [Gunner Craftsmanship (Normal)]

A new sub-quest has been generated:

Flintlocks are the worst of the worst when it comes to accuracy!

Quest clear condition: Hit bullseye on a training target from 12 or more meters away.

Quest failure penalty: None

Quest completion reward: [Flintlock Pistol Upgrade Blueprint]

Luke’s breath hitched. Holy shi—

He barely managed to stop himself from cursing out loud as his mind struggled to process the waves of text flashing before his eyes.

“What kind of pyramid scheme-sounding nonsense is this?” he thought, still overwhelmed.

His heart pounded rapidly, his hands slightly trembling from the sheer absurdity of the situation. He took a deep breath, then another, and forced himself to calm down. “I’m as calm as a fucking saint,” he muttered, though his expression said otherwise.

Bringing his hands to his mouth, he blew loudly, exhaling all the tension. Charles, who was watching from a short distance away, misunderstood entirely. The butler let out a heavy sigh, assuming Luke was simply overwhelmed by holding a weapon for the first time. “Poor young master,” he lamented internally.

Of course, Luke was experiencing no such sentimental moment. Instead, his brain was scrambling to come to terms with the monumental shift in his situation.

Everything had changed. He no longer felt like the weakest candidate in the selection. If he played his cards right, he could become something far beyond what anyone in this world expected.

But rather than let his excitement get the better of him, he chose to focus on the immediate goal—practicing and completing the quests. One detail stood out in particular.

He had to craft his own guns.

He hadn’t expected that, but considering the sorry state of the firearms before him, he wasn’t going to complain.

Finally, he examined the gun in his hand.

Flintlock Pistol

Type: Firearm

Attack Power: 25-30 Base physical pierce damage (+bullet damage)

Range: 9-27 meters

Scaling: Dexterity D+

Accuracy: 40%

Details: A single-shot, muzzle-loaded firearm. Requires manual reloading after each shot. In bad condition due to a lack of repairs.

Rarity: Common

Durability: 25/100

Luke’s face twitched. This was the best pistol among the bunch.

Yeah… he definitely needed better gear.

Luke stood before the line of battered target dummies, gripping the flintlock pistol with a mixture of anticipation and unease. Despite being in multiple fights back on Earth, he had never actually fired a gun before. His past experiences revolved around hand-to-hand combat, where instincts, muscle memory, and reaction speed dictated the flow of battle. But this? This was different. A weapon that could kill from a distance, a weapon that required precision and control.

He adjusted his stance, straightening his arms while keeping a firm grip on the pistol. The metal felt cold and slightly unbalanced in his hands, an unwieldy instrument compared to the knives and makeshift weapons he had once wielded. His heartbeat quickened as he took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. He aimed at the nearest dummy, steadied his fingers on the trigger, and pulled.

The explosion caught him off guard. The recoil jerked his arms violently, sending a sharp jolt up his wrist and into his shoulder. Smoke erupted from the barrel, a thick, acrid cloud that stung his eyes and filled his lungs. The noise was deafening, a sharp crack that momentarily disoriented him. His hands trembled slightly as he blinked the irritation away and looked at the dummy.

Nothing. Not even a graze. The shot had gone completely wide.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his grip tightening around the gun.

The pistol itself was already in terrible condition, and the recoil had felt unstable. It was a miracle it hadn’t misfired or exploded in his hands. He glanced at the hammer and the barrel, noticing the slight cracks in the metal. The weapon was old, unreliable, and barely held together.

Taking a steadying breath, Luke lowered the pistol and stretched his fingers, already feeling a slight sting in his palm. He had expected some kickback, but not to this extent. The force of the shot had already started forming calluses. If this was just the first round, he dreaded what ten shots would do to his hands.

Still, there was no turning back. He had to complete the quest. Gritting his teeth, Luke grabbed another lead bullet, biting down his irritation as he went through the tedious process of reloading. After refilling the powder, priming the pan, and securing the bullet, he lined up his second shot.

Bang!

Another miss.

Three more shots followed, each one as bad as the last. The fourth shot barely nicked the dummy’s shoulder, and that was only because Luke had adjusted his aim based on previous failures. By the time he reached his third shot, the gun itself was beginning to show signs of imminent failure. The barrel had heated up, and small cracks had deepened. He could feel the vibrations traveling through the frame, warning him that one more misfire might result in an explosion right in his hands.

"Oh hell no, I am NOT blowing off my fingers," he muttered, hastily setting the pistol aside and picking up another from the crate.

It became clear that he couldn’t rely on a single gun for multiple shots. Instead, he would have to fire one shot per pistol to avoid potential disasters. Tedious? Yes. Safer? Absolutely.

With this method, he continued firing, cycling through the available flintlocks. The first quest wasn’t particularly difficult; all he had to do was fire ten rounds. But hitting the bullseye? That was proving to be a nightmare. Even after completing his tenth shot and unlocking the Gunner Craftsmanship (Normal) skill, he hadn’t landed a single clean hit.

Quest Completed!

[Gunner Craftsmanship (Normal)] Unlocked!

A blue notification flashed before him, but he barely spared it a glance. He swiped it aside, his focus set entirely on the next challenge—hitting a bullseye.

His accuracy was abysmal. Out of ten shots, only two had even hit the dummy, and neither was anywhere near the center. The flintlock pistols' terrible condition didn't help, but he knew that he was also lacking in skill.

A couple more hours passed. Sweat dripped down his back, his fingers were sore from gripping the rough pistol handles, and his ears were ringing from the endless firing. He had used nearly every flintlock available, and despite his effort, he had only managed to hit the dummy a handful of times.

And then, finally—

Bang!

The shot struck dead center.

Luke froze, hardly believing his eyes. He had actually done it. A loud notification popped up in front of him:

Quest Completed!

Reward: Flintlock Pistol Upgrade Blueprint

Relief washed over him. "Finally…" he muttered, exhaling deeply.

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he couldn’t help but chuckle dryly. This was just the beginning. He had an absurdly long way to go before guns could become viable weapon, even for him. But one thing was for sure—he was going to make it happen.

"Sigh… this is gonna take some time."