"Seriously, a machete is too brutal, so you carry a smaller knife instead?"


    In just under ten minutes of interviewing, Shen Fei had left the room full of notoriously ruthless mercenaries utterly bewildered.


    Some of them even felt the urge to advise him to be a little kinder and less extreme.


    The man with the cybernetic eye neatly organized Shen Fei’s resume and politely said, "Mr. Shen, our company has its own procedures, and we hope you can understand. However, personally, I have no objections to you—in fact, I’m very impressed."


    "Some of your ideas have practically opened the door to a whole new world for our industry."


    "Rest assured, we will give your application serious consideration."


    Shen Fei took the folder and said, "Alright, before I leave, could I ask you all for a favor?"


    The interviewer previously referred to as "Gold Coin" responded, "Go ahead."


    Shen Fei pulled out an application form from his backpack and explained,


    "I want to buy a gun, but the staff at the gun store told me I either need a firearms license or a guarantor who has one."


    "I’d like to hire one of you to be my guarantor."


    The man with the cybernetic eye instinctively asked, "You''re an international student. Why do you need a gun?"


    Shen Fei sighed and replied, "The ''Russian Sun Emperor'' just stepped down, and Volodin''s policies since taking office have been extreme. Most people in your country have a very unfriendly attitude toward Chinese nationals."


    "Discrimination is everywhere."


    "As an international student, I just want to protect myself."


    The Ural Federation he had time-traveled to was eerily similar to the historical landscape of the early 2000s from his past life.


    However, there were some notable differences.


    For example, the Wagner Group in front of him—in his past life, it wouldn’t have been established until around 2014.


    "Makes perfect sense," the hot-tempered Gold Coin nodded, pulling a pistol from his waist and handing it over.


    "Here, take this Glock G17. The magazine’s full, and there’s one in the chamber—18 rounds should be enough for self-defense."


    "Consider it a thank-you for helping me clear my mind."


    Shen Fei, who genuinely needed a gun, didn’t pretend to be polite. He pulled out all the money he had and said,


    "The Ural Federation doesn’t import Glock pistols from Austria, so this one must have come through unofficial channels."


    "At current black market prices, a Glock G17 sells for around $2,000, which converts to about 56,000 rubles."


    "I only have 28,000 rubles on me—this is all my savings. I’ll pay you back the rest later."


    "Please give me a piece of paper and a pen. I’ll write you an IOU."


    Gold Coin smiled and handed Shen Fei what he needed. "Alright, I’ll be waiting for your repayment, Mr. Shen Fei."


    After watching Shen Fei leave, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy and tense.


    The man with the cybernetic eye lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and asked, "So, what do you all think of this Shen Fei guy?"


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    One of the interviewers spoke up, "Honestly, I can’t believe someone who’s never killed before could be as cunning and ruthless as him."


    "His eyes and demeanor told me he wasn’t joking when he answered those questions."


    "If faced with a similar situation, he’d definitely do exactly what he said—maybe even take it further."


    Another interviewer chimed in, "I don’t feel as strongly about it. You know how it is—rote learning is a specialty of the Chinese. Maybe he just figured out what we’d ask and prepared his answers in advance."


    Finally, everyone turned to Gold Coin, waiting for his analysis.


    Gold Coin picked up the stack of rubles from the table and smiled. "I like the kid. I vote yes."


    "But I don’t buy that he’s getting a gun just for self-defense."


    "What I sense in him is the most primal human desire to kill."


    "And according to Chekhov’s writing theory, if a gun appears in the first act, it’s going to go off by the third."


    Another interviewer snapped irritably, "Gold Coin, this is real life. Stop bringing up your damn writing theories."


    Gold Coin lit another cigarette, watching the smoke curl upward. "Who knows? The world is just one big novel. Maybe we’re all characters in someone’s story."


    "If that’s the case, the author must’ve lost their mind while writing this part. Let’s hope the readers lose theirs too and just enjoy the ride," the man with the cybernetic eye muttered, flipping through Shen Fei’s resume and rubbing his nose. "We need to hurry up. There are still seventeen more wannabe mercenaries waiting to be interviewed."


    "Damn it, I don’t know why Volodin had to go after the oligarchs. Everything’s just getting messier out there."


    Meanwhile, Shen Fei walked out of the Wagner mercenary base and boarded a bus back to his university dorm.


    The bus was nearly empty.


    Shen Fei sat in the very last row, carefully examining the Glock G17 pistol hidden in his backpack.


    It had been a long time since he crossed over into this world, and this was the first time he had held a real gun.


    Cold, heavy, and solid—it gave him an inexplicable sense of security.


    "Judging by today’s interview, they probably won’t take me," he thought to himself.


    "So where should I go next to find work?"


    In his previous life, Shen Fei had been an ordinary man, living an unremarkable life. Nothing extraordinary had ever happened to him, right up until the end.


    He didn’t know why fate had chosen him to cross over, nor why he had been given a "God of Killing" system.


    But then again,


    what man doesn’t secretly yearn for a life of excitement and adventure?


    [Would you rather be a nobody, living a safe but mundane life, dying in bed with a catheter? Or would you choose to leave your mark on history, even if it means not living past thirty?]


    [A nameless pawn? Or a legend?]


    Back in his past life, when Shen Fei had heard this line in a game, he had almost instantly chosen the latter.


    He hadn’t had the chance back then,


    but now,


    this life would be his opportunity to make up for all those regrets!


    BANG!


    Just as Shen Fei was lost in his thoughts, a deafening gunshot rang out. The bus screeched to a sudden halt, lurching violently as it came to a stop in the middle of the road.


    "What’s happening?!"


    "Oh my God!"


    "Look, someone’s robbing the bank!"


    Chaotic voices erupted as Shen Fei turned toward the direction of the gunshot. About 50 meters away, a bank was under siege.


    Seven or eight masked gunmen had shot the bank’s security guard and stormed inside.


    The bus driver shouted, "Everyone, stay calm! We’re far enough away. If I just reverse, we can get out of here safely!"


    "Hold on tight and stay seated. Keep your cool!"


    His words brought a wave of relief to the panicked passengers.


    However,


    before the driver could shift into reverse, another loud crash echoed through the bus.


    Everyone looked up to see the passenger from the back row shatter the window with his elbow and leap out, sprinting straight toward the bank.


    Faintly, they could hear him yelling something in Chinese.


    "Damn it, robbing a bank right in front of me?"


    "You think I’m gonna take this lying down? I just bought this gun!"