Novel & Cerita Armament Haki

They made their way into the large warehouse, the guards greeting their Dons with the utmost respect. The trio walked into the warehouse said place buzzing with faint music while their employees fulfilled their tasks not daring to glance at them the wrong way. Some rearranged guns, ammo, bombs, and all kinds of weapons in their niches to be shipped to the person that had bought them. The armory looked immaculate and filled to the brim with daggers of all sizes, throwing knives, handguns, Glocks and Nikolai's favorite sniper and assault rifles organized to his liking. You name it, the trio had it.

“You are responsible for them. They all have your runemark on them so you can know them and identify them when they die. Ragnar politely took his weapon. It was a projectile weapon called the atomic gun. It was similar to the theme weapon that Lanek sent the sea dragon, but smaller in size. One of the most powerful weapons Sergeant Hakon had was a chainsword. The belt around the gun contains a dispenser for another small but powerful weapon called a mini grenade. "Careful." said the armorer. “For fools, it is as dangerous as the enemy. Now follow the servant and report to the training ground.

Hana was dressed like a true hunter, and it was hot. Black combat boots that I assumed had hidden blades in the toe and heel, black tactical pants that had hidden pockets to store potions, a gun holster on her left thigh, and a holster of blades on the right. Her left kevlar vambrace held a dozen thin silver bolts that she could launch with a flick of her wrist, while the right probably concealed a blade or a spray. A simple form-fitting black t-shirt pulled over the high collar kevlar vest obscured her form but protected her, and that’s what mattered.

I smiled greedily, already feeling the excitement as I set aside my bladder urges and parked the stolen car before quickly getting out of the car. Hiding behind the mound of old cars and keeping quiet were easily done, but knowing what was inside the truck was giving a new meaning to the word armory. I was salivating when I saw stacks of crates most likely filled with ammo, handguns, and riffles when rows of handheld missile launchers came into sight.

Xavier sighs frustratedly. "How did you find out about the contract killer?" I ask him. "The bullet which was used was fired from a military-grade weapon, which is easily not available on the market. Professional killers only smuggle such weapons because of their accuracy." He pushes his glasses up his nose and shuts his laptop, "I have run the information of the bullet and found Hydra uses such weapons. And we all know how Hydra works, all they need is their money, and they do the job in secrecy, no questions asked."

I had a backpack on my shoulder. This was Romano's basement; an ammunition house where he stored all kinds of dangerous instruments, ranging from large firearms to smaller ones, knives, chains, clubs, explosives and whatnot. It was a kind of mini armory and he had not only granted me access, but also given me the go ahead to make use of any weapon of my choice in whatever way I deemed fit. I finally reached the end of the stairs and I moved to where the first set of arms lay. Pistols of different kinds. Glocks, shotguns, revolvers and rifles, etcetera, etcetera.

Dawn has arrived as they prepare for some weapons to take, they dressed up like a warrior. Niffa in her braided tail hair matched her white sweatshirt and black pants as she put on her long dark boots then she grabbed her bow and arrow. “Still stick to that bow and arrow huh,” Rico said as he put on his long dark boots, he had the same outfit as Niffa but he put on his dark cape looking mysterious like before. He pulls the huge toolbox under the desk.

Weapons packed like sleeping beasts. Years of work. Years of power. Malachi stood beside me, watching like a king guarding his treasury. The warehouse smelled like oil, steel, and money. Men moved crates fast. Efficiently and controlled. Hustin barked the orders. “Medical kits to truck three!” “Secure the weapons rack!” “Check the chemical seals!” I leaned against a crate beside Malachi. “So what’s the priority among them?” I asked. He nodded toward the stacks. “Assault rifles. High-grade ammunition. Tactical armor. Experimental stimulants. And the compound vials — those are worth more than gold.”

Jackson grabbed my hand again and he started walking down the stairs first and helped me down so that I wouldn't trip and then he turned on a gas burner at the bottom of the stairs and it lit up almost the whole room. I looked around in shock, circling in the one spot at the armory that was right under my feet this whole time. It was bigger than the one that was known to us. Werewolves don't usually use weapons. We don't need them in a fight, so the armory that the pack knew about was really small. This one wasn't. It was full of hand guns, riffles, grenades, materials to make bombs, everything that we would need. So I grabbed a duffle bag off of a shelf and started filling it with everythin

It made me feel powerful. I heard a snick behind me and turned, only to see Hakan unsheathing a small curved dagger. I knew he carried guns, but I had no idea he also had a dagger on him. It was a pretty dagger, there was a scorpion engraved on the black hilt, while the blade itself was a shiny silver. I wonder how many lives he had taken with the blade. My question must have been written on my face, because he replied to me.