Landlord in the Arctic

Chapter 354: Chapter 274: Claiming the Prize

"What, you don’t want the prizes?"

The four old men seemed to have planned this in advance. Hearing Feng Mountain’s question, they immediately started nodding, their heads bobbing like they were pounding garlic.

Feng Mountain found this even more amusing. He raised his voice and asked, "And you want to sell the prizes I gave you back to me?"

The four old men continued to nod vigorously.

They looked completely matter-of-fact, as if their request was the most normal thing in the world.

This audacious move truly left Feng Mountain speechless.

The old saying was right: an old fox just gets more cunning with age.

’They’ve really got this all figured out. Taking my stuff and selling it right back to me.’

’As far as business deals go, you can’t really find a flaw in it.’

However, Feng Mountain wasn’t about to indulge this kind of behavior.

’If every event ends up like this, then what’s the fucking point?’

He immediately rejected their absurd proposal.

"Sorry, prizes, once awarded, are final. You can, however, forfeit them. See you four around."

Hearing this, the four old men were dumbfounded. The smiles on their faces froze, and they stood there, looking from one to another.

After returning to the camp, everyone took the fish they had caught at Gem Lake to the restaurant.

Soon, they would be able to taste the delicious dishes prepared with the fresh catch.

Afterward, the group piled into the tavern.

Another party was underway.

You had to admit, these foreigners had an almost fanatical devotion to parties.

In their eyes, it seemed that any excuse for a good time was a reason to throw a party.

For the past couple of days, Feng Mountain had developed a strange fear of alcohol.

Whenever he saw alcohol, he would get a faint sense of dread, as if several pairs of eyes were staring daggers into his back.

Sure enough, when he saw everyone starting to drink and celebrate again, he quickly found an excuse, said his goodbyes, and hurried away.

Leaving the tavern, he sauntered over to the fire pit.

Milyukov was still there, completely absorbed in his work on the Mammoth bones.

The better part of the day had passed, yet not a single one of the Mammoth’s legs was standing.

The bones lay scattered on the ground. Milyukov would pick one up to compare it, then ponder the best way to piece them together.

His intense concentration made it clear that the assembly was a major challenge. It looked like it would still be a long time before the job was done.

Just as Feng Mountain was standing by, watching Milyukov at work...

Suddenly, his phone rang with a clear, crisp tone.

He took out his phone and saw it was an unfamiliar number. Though puzzled, he answered the call.

The moment he answered, a man’s low voice came through.

"Hello, Mr. Feng. This is Will, a technical advisor with TTI Taran Tactical Innovations Company. I’ve been tasked by several custom firearm companies with delivering the weapons you ordered."

"Are you in the Crown Territory?"

Will asked, sounding eager to get the weapons into Feng Mountain’s hands as soon as possible.

The moment he heard that his custom-ordered weapons were being delivered...

...any trace of languor on Feng Mountain’s face vanished instantly.

He perked up, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

He immediately replied with excitement.

"Man, I thought it would take a few months! Are you guys always this efficient?"

Will chuckled on the other end of the line and explained.

"Because you’re a VIP client, the firearm companies postponed a few private orders to move yours up the schedule a bit."

From the sound of it, the firearm companies had clearly done a lot of coordinating to get Feng Mountain his weapons as soon as possible.

"That’s fantastic, thank you! I’m in the Crown Territory right now, so I’m ready whenever you are."

Feng Mountain was overjoyed and couldn’t wait to respond. The thought of getting his hands on those custom weapons made his heart pound with anticipation.

"Great. See you in four hours." Will said, then hung up.

Feng Mountain clutched his phone, unable to contain the surging wave of his excitement. He pumped his fist in the air a few times, shouting, "Yes! Yes!"

Then, like a shot, he took off running toward the tavern.

The moment he entered the tavern, a wave of boisterous noise washed over him.

But Feng Mountain had no time for that now.

His eyes quickly scanned the crowd.

He quickly spotted the three retired soldiers having a drink.

Bald Paine, Bat Frank, and Scarred Calio.

Feng Mountain hurried over, clapped them on the shoulder, and told them to get ready. A shipment of custom weapons was coming in.

"Boss, is it Taran Tactical?" Bald Paine’s eyes lit up instantly. He still hadn’t forgotten about Feng Mountain’s Glock 17L Combat Master.

Seeing Paine’s eagerness, Feng Mountain felt incredibly smug. He casually picked up a bottle of beer and held it up as if displaying a prized trophy.

"Not just Taran Tactical. We’ve also got custom guns from Deep River Customization, Wilson Combat, Night Hawk Customization, and a few others."

"Good God!"

"Oh my God!"

"Fack."

Hearing this, the three of them—Bald Paine, Bat Frank, and Scarred Calio—stared wide-eyed and exclaimed in unison.

You have to understand, these custom firearm companies were legendary in the United States.

The custom guns they produced were top-tier in every respect—performance, craftsmanship, and aesthetics.

Nearly every gun enthusiast dreamed of owning a custom piece from one of these companies.

To gun aficionados, these firearms were the Holy Grail, possessing an irresistible allure.

Unfortunately, these custom guns were prohibitively expensive, and the wait times for customization were incredibly long. For most people, owning one was just an impossible dream.