Chapter 44: The sound of freedom.
My mind was already crying uncle from all the shit Lilly just casually shared with me. I supposed it made sense. If you suddenly had multiple people who had no job or investments obtain financial windfalls, not just your relatives but even the government would be skeptical.
Money laundering usually followed a simple process. You buy something worthless, hire an "appraiser" then have them announce that it was worth a lot then sell the item. If anyone asked where you got the money from, it would be from the sale of that worthless item.
Paintings and real estate were both subjective in nature. Thus, it was very easy to create value out of nothing just by borrowing the words of an expert.
In today's world crypto functioned in the same fashion. While the original crypto currencies were backed by the technology as the government understood more that credibility began to fade.
The factor which contributed to its success was that it was ideal for black market trade. The lack of regulation kept it out of the government hands.
Fast forward to today where the rules and technology between the currencies vastly differed and you now had scams that just stole people's money.
I personally invested a bit in Bitcoin in the early days. When I made a bit of money, I sold everything and hadn't been able to get back into the scene since.
Hearing the horror stories of late made me glad I lost the ability to do so. As for the earnings, I foolishly used it to fund my ex's college fees.
Did I regret giving it to her? Of course, I did. But we already went our separate ways, there was no use crying over spilled milk.
Anyway, it was a novel thing to know that the recent flood of crypto scams was all for reapers laundering souls. I couldn't even blame them, pretty soon I would need the same strategy.
Lilly, who obviously noticed my sudden silence interrogated me with a displeased face. "You were just thinking of a woman, weren't you? I am hurt dear; how could you think of another girl while I of all people am here?"
"What? I wasn't and why do you even care?" I rebutted defensively.
"Of course, I care! How can I support you if you still have weaknesses that can be exploited! What is her name? Tell me? I will pay her a visit and ki… Ehem, place her under protection."
This psycho… she was about to say kill, didn't she? I needed to clear it up not for my ex's sake but mine.
"Fine, you caught me I couldn't help thinking of my ex. I dabbed a bit in crypto and the discussion we just had reminded me where I spent what I earned."
"You spent your crypto earnings on your ex?"
"I did, I used almost everything to help pay for her student loans. Well just a part of it, majority was paid for by my best friend," I confessed to Lilly.
"This seems like juicy gossip, tell me why on earth would your best friend pay for your ex's student loans? Were you all that close?"
Thinking about the situation again gave me a bad taste in my mouth. The short truth was my ex was cheating on me with my best friend.
They took me for a fool and only came clean a couple of years after. It broke my heart so much I wanted to die. After that, I lost interest in romance as a whole.
"It was complicated. Regardless of what happened there was a time she made me the happiest man on earth."
"Past tense?"
"Yeah, we parted on bad terms. I loved her dearly, but that all came to an end the moment we broke up."
Lilly then embraced my arms tightly into her chest as she whispered. "I would never betray you dear. I would rather die first."
Didn't my ex and I exchange similar vows? We got together from early high school. During those years if I was asked what I wanted to do in my life all my answers would have revolved around her.
Due to my experiences, I no longer believed such grand vows of loyalty.
"I appreciate the sentiment Lilly, but you don't have to."
All this talk about love made my heart hurt so I gently separated from the woman beside me and started to look for my dad's warehouse building.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Lilly try to reach out to me. But I intentionally moved away and focused on the task at hand.
Just from the numbering on the warehouses and the rolling doors I got that each warehouse held around four apartment units. Thus 29 was the first apartment of the 8th warehouse.
As they were laid out in rows of four buildings warehouse 8 was on the second block away from the admin building.
I still heard the sharp footsteps of my companion, so I knew that she was still following closely. The large 29 on the door indicated I found my unit. I used the key to remove the lock. It seemed like security was good. It made me wonder how much a ten-year lease would cost.
After I removed the padlock, I pulled the rolling door up opening the unit. Dust and dirt flew at the sudden movement of the metallic door.
As light and air entered the warehouse unit a smell unique to old, enclosed spaces entered my nose. The layer of dust and dirt all over showed that it had been years since anyone even saw this place.
There was a full-sized pallet rack at the center of the unit. The rack was about 10 ft tall and had around 10 of Pelican protector cases. Four large ones and six small ones.
How nostalgic, these bastards were the best of the best when it came to storing firearms or camera equipment. They were weather resistant, so dust, humidity, moisture would not be an issue. Protectors were extremely durable and were even fire retardant.
The catch? They were expensive as hell. Each time I saw one of these bastards I knew I would be eating stale crackers for the next month. The large ones should be the ones containing the guns while the small ones would house ammunition.
I took one of the big, long ones and pushed open the latches and opened one up. Inside was a sleek and shiny black Colt Armalite rifle - 15 or AR15 for short. It had a 4x mounted scope with a 45-degree mounted red dot sight. A Picatinny rail handguard, a custom muzzle brake and an adjustable stock completed the setup.
The steel of the AR15 felt nice to the touch. Its sheen looked beautiful in the sunlight. I opened the ejection port, pulled the charging handle, removed the safety and then squeezed the trigger. The clear and crisp sound of the firing pin snapping in place gave me chills.
"That right there, that's the sound of freedom," I said with a satisfied smile.
Forcing myself to put the AR15 down and I checked the other weapon inside the case which was a gray M24 Sniper weapon system.
The M24 SWS was a bolt action sniper rifle; I removed the lens caps from the scope and retracted the bolt. I once again got goose bumps when I closed the breach and squeezed the trigger. It was so well made the M24 one of the few sniper rifles used by the US Army, the Navy Seals and the marines.
Stories of its lethality were plentiful. From how three navy seals took down over fifteen Al-Qaeda in Afghanistan, to the legendary shot of the marine Sgt Rafael Peralta in the second battle of Fallujah. Such feats were only possible with the existence of the M24.
Even though my goal when I was younger was to get my father to like me, the lovely time I spent with these works of art became my sole source of happiness in my youth. I was filled with pleasant nostalgia as I checked the weapons. Lilly who noticed my happiness asked in curiosity.
"This is probably the only time I ever saw you making such a face. Are these firearms really that great?"
"They may not be perfect but the ones here are special to me. They kept me company during my darkest days. Seeing them again reminded me of the time we spent together," I confessed in contentment.
"Interesting, I thought my biggest rivals would be the Formless girls, but it seems I may have to be more vigilant of these weapons instead."
What the hell was this woman spouting? Lilly began looking around as she continued her thoughts.
"I never really got firearms. I only carry the black one because of my father. I don't really consider it as a weapon. A sword seems much easier. I feel the weight of a life should be equal to the weight of your sword."
What a load of bullshit, the battlefield never took such things into consideration. Weapons were created because beating a person with your fists took too long. Whether it be swords or guns their intent was always to take a life in the easiest and fastest way possible.
I didn't even bother answering her sophistry. If I remembered correctly there were 12 firearms as part of the Smith armory before I left. If every one of them were here, I would have enough to arm a small group. If I could find a way to wield them all, I wouldn't need to use {Reload} so much as I could just switch weapons.
With my mind racing through the possibilities, I opened the next case. It would most certainly be a well spent morning.
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