Chapter 53: Going to Battle

Gavin’s loud shout, along with the others’, startled everyone in the hall.

Doris instinctively grabbed Winnie, pulling her toward the backyard.

“Let go of me… They’re just shocked, there’s no danger!” Winnie struggled while shouting rationally, causing Doris to stop.

William abruptly stood up, staggering away from the dining table and hopping toward the gun room. Passing by the sofa, he shouted at Oldbert,

“Old man, you wouldn’t be hiding zombies in the gun room, would you?”

Oldbert couldn’t contain his excited laughter any longer. Proud and triumphant, he chuckled,

“What nonsense about zombies! What they’re seeing is a masterpiece—an exquisite work of art that took me a full eighteen months, crafted with the world’s top goldsmiths invited by Gavin’s father!”

“We used more than six kilograms of pure gold alone!”

At this, Oldbert looked expectantly down the right corridor. If not for his bad back, he would have rushed to Gavin to see the look of shock on his face!

Gavin was indeed stunned. He never imagined that in Oldbert’s house, he would find a set of armor so lavish it would seem excessive even on a European emperor.

At a glance, the armor was the pinnacle of plate armor craftsmanship, maintaining the slender elegance of Gothic plate armor rather than the exaggerated bulk of Italian styles.

Moreover, the heavy plates were intricately engraved with exquisite golden patterns.

Indeed, this was the strongest armor in human history—top-tier royal plate armor in the style of 16th-century Europe!

In ancient times, mail and lamellar armor reached their peak during the Song dynasty’s infantry era, but lamellar was eventually outclassed by the Mongol’s cloth armor.

Afterward, Mongol iron cavalry wearing cloth armor invaded Europe, reducing the continent’s chainmail artistry to rubble.

The Europeans, learning from Mongol cloth armor, transformed it into plate armor, later removing fabric layers to evolve into true plate armor.

As the Mongol Empire waned, European plate armor flourished with the advent of hydraulic forging hammers in the 16th century, becoming widespread.

Although America is not a European country, there are many armor collectors here as well.

However… this armor was truly unlike ordinary armor—it was no mere collectible but a newly crafted masterpiece!

With a heavy swallow, Gavin turned sharply and strode to Oldbert.

“Old man, is this the surprise you prepared for me?”

Oldbert nodded contentedly, then with a casual air of bravado said,

“You’re still too young, kid. This is just a little gift from the old generation of our farms.”

“We started making this armor when you won your first championship. Your father said you’d love it.”

“By the time it was completed, you had already won three consecutive championships. We planned to give it to you then.”

“But when you came back last time, you said you wanted to keep winning, so we hid it, waiting for you to keep winning until the day you decide to retire, then we’ll give it to you!”

“Good boy, me, Old Mond, Gallifa, Traines, and of course your father…”

“We old folks just want you to wear armor worthy of you because on the field, you shine like the King of Texas!”

As Oldbert spoke, tears finally welled up uncontrollably. He quickly hid his tear-streaked face behind the sofa.

Crack…

“Ahh!!!”

With a sharp snap from his spine, Oldbert’s scream shattered the moment.

Gavin took a deep breath, rubbed his face heavily, crouched beside Oldbert, and grasped the old man’s hand.

“I promise, I will wear this armor one day. You’ll see that day, old man!”

“Ha, sniff… Enough with the sentimentality, get out there and fight, kid!” Oldbert dodged Gavin, sniffling, then shouted down the hall,

“And you boys, go fight, whether the enemy is living or dead!”

“I… ha, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine soon. Just wait and see my shooting skills.”

With that, Oldbert pushed Gavin away firmly and waved toward the gun room.

Gavin inhaled deeply and addressed the stunned crowd.

“You all should take a look. That… really is a masterpiece.”

With that, Gavin returned to the gun room, where two people were still staring dumbfounded at the armor.

“Alright, don’t mind that armor. Even though with it, I’d dare take down a hundred zombies alone, it’s not meant for times like these.”

“Come, look at the guns. That’s what really matters.”

He moved to the gun rack opposite the armor.

Oldbert didn’t have many guns—just over a dozen—but money was no issue, so they were all quality weapons.

Eugene reluctantly glanced once more at the armor, then turned to Gavin with a sour tone.

“Fine, let’s look at the guns. But tell me, are you the illegitimate son of the Queen of England or something?”

“Hah, I’m the illegitimate son of God, and I have two older brothers too!”

Gavin retorted, flipping Eugene the middle finger, then tossed a fully blackened shotgun into Madison’s hands.

Madison held it, lifting and lowering it with fondness, then asked Eugene,

“Redhead, what kind of gun is this? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Don’t ask me, ask the boss. I damn sure haven’t seen it either!” Eugene cursed, then looked curiously at Gavin.

Seeing their puzzled looks, Gavin smiled and said,

“Origin12 semi-automatic shotgun, a new version not yet released.”

“This thing was supposed to be on sale this summer, but their boss sent me some, which I gave to my dad at the farm. Didn’t expect Oldbert to have one too.”

Gavin tapped the large drum magazine of the OR12 and grinned.

“This shotgun fires five rounds per second, with a thirty-round drum. Carry a few extra drums, and this thing is a godsend!”

“Haha, damn right. I love this thing!” Madison responded excitedly. Meanwhile, Eugene had found his target.

He passed by two gleaming double-barrel shotguns from the grandpa generation, set down his lever-action shotgun, and picked up a long-barreled rifle.

“Ha! Screw the SR25 and the Mk11—this one’s mine. No one’s taking it from me!”

“Heh, I thought you liked the HK416 better.”

Gavin set the SCAR-PDW aside and picked up the HK416 from the gun room, examining its quad scope and foregrip.

While Gavin inspected it, Eugene grinned, holding the Mk11 precision sniper rifle toward the wall, removing a thirty-centimeter suppressor.

“A silencer too? Perfect. With this in my hands, taking down a squad is easy.”

Hearing this, Gavin ejected the magazine, tested the smoothness of the rounds, reloaded, slung the rifle over his shoulder, and said,

“I told you not to worry—Oldbert’s accessories aren’t as many as mine, but obviously, silencers, essential for hunting, are included.”

“Heh, I knew it. Besides hunting and not scaring off too many animals, we Texans like the sound of gunfire.”

Eugene cheerfully attached the silencer, then put down the gun and went to fetch an ammo box.

He handed a box of 5.56×45mm rounds to Gavin and carried a box of 7.62×51mm himself, loading magazines.

While Gavin loaded magazines, Madison, clutching the shotgun, wandered over to a dazzling silver revolver.

Noticing Madison’s gaze, Gavin grinned and said,

“Don’t just look—take it and use it. Smith & Wesson 500, just right for a big guy like you.”

“Then I won’t hold back!”

Madison grabbed the revolver, found a holster, and tossed some magazine pouches hanging on the wall to Gavin.

Texan cowboys dislike military combat uniforms; cowboy outfits are their favorite.

But for carrying ammo conveniently, you can always find various magazine pouches in Texas. Gavin received one that was a cross-shoulder magazine bandolier, capable of holding six standard magazines.

He loaded each magazine and stuffed them into the bandolier.

At last, holding the HK416, he nodded to Eugene and Madison, who were similarly ready.

“Looking much better. Let’s move out!”