Chapter 297
The contents were, at first glance, a little disappointing. Four simple black outlines, the pistol grip, trigger, and body, weren't much more compact than a typical hand-crossbow. The greatest reduction in size was the body itself, lacking the thicker, more ample mid-section of a typical self-reloading hand crossbow shaved down to almost nothing. The limbs of all four bows appeared to be folded back for storage, creating a look more reminiscent of some sort of high-tech slingshot, than a crossbow.
I dislodged one from the foam and attempted to extend the wings, finding them firm and unyielding. On second look there were no hinges and the string was taut, but surely it couldn't be permanently locked in this form.
Puzzled, I pulled up the description.
Description: Though these four diminutive—
"Hold on," Erik shook his head sternly, snatching the loosely held weapon out of my hands before I could read the description in full. "Respectfully, I busted my ass. Already knew they were gonna be special halfway through, but these little beauties ended up being my second vocational capstone. Let me give them a better breakdown than the pre-filled system tripe."
I inclined my head, trailing behind him as he approached one of the padded targets, finger resting on the trigger-guard. "Someone a lot smarter than me once said that limitation breeds creativity. Never put much stock in that ‘til now." He smirked. "Could be wrong, but the day you walked in, I got the sense you were frugal. Loaded, but frugal. Also gleaned you didn't give two-fucks about ornamentation. So a big part of the design phase was sussin' out how, exactly, to make these things worth the cheddar to ya." He extended his arm towards the target, less than two feet away from the crossbow's barrel, and fired.
There was no sound. No telltale twang. Nothing but a blur and ample thud as the padded target suddenly jerked upward against the back leg of its tripod base, clattering hard against the ground.
Interest piqued, I tried to lift the target with the toe of my boot, and discovering it was too heavy for that, crouched down and lifted it with both hands. It was more weighted than it appeared—somewhere between seventy-five and a hundred pounds.
"First piece of the puzzle was stopping power. Probably don't gotta tell you this, but outside of some very specific use cases, hand-crossbows are generally outclassed by their bigger, more accurate siblings. The bigger form factor allows for greater power, but it's a new age. Material options with appropriate tensile strength aren't nearly as limited as it once was. Ever run into a Dopki?"