Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

The two entered the restaurant side by side; the environment inside was decent, completely different from the fly-infested food stalls on the street.

They ordered a few dishes at random, handed the menu to the waiter, and then waited listlessly.

"Could you tell me more about that 'Moscow Hotel'? After all, as a potential customer, I still need to know more about it."

"Boss Balalaika, huh? Actually, there's not much to say about her. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, she became a gangster and then did shady business here in Doro Anapura. She was knocked into the water while fighting with Boss Zhang for territory, and was later rescued by Dutch." Levi said, leaning back in her chair. "She has a pretty good relationship with our Black Reef Chamber of Commerce, and we do cooperate with them."

“I see, a former Soviet soldier.” Isaac nodded.

Looks like they're in luck this time. The stuff they brought over is all Soviet equipment from the Cold War era. Although it's outdated, it's still pretty good equipment.

The prices from Ukraine were incredibly low; IW made its early development funds by reselling these weapons.

I don't know if it was because the Soviet Union was so powerful back then, but even after four years, there is still a batch of inventory left.

"It seems necessary to establish a cooperative relationship with them."

“I think we should forget about it.” Levi shook her head, and it seemed that she didn’t think highly of the organization. “You’d be better off cooperating with Boss Zhang. At least the Triads have money and influence in this city. Those poor bastards can’t afford your weapons.”

"Talking behind people's backs is not a good habit, Two-handed."

The voice came from behind Levi. When she turned around, she saw a woman in a military overcoat and a group of people dressed as soldiers.

The woman had severe burn scars on her face, and her sharp eyes gave off a powerful sense of pressure. Even when she was standing still, she exuded a fearsome aura.

The soldiers behind her also had a menacing look on their faces, clearly different from ordinary thugs.

He was Balalaika, the leader of the 'Moscow Hotel' in Roanapur.

"Hey, boss lady, what brings you here?"

"I was just out discussing some business with Mr. Zhang when I saw you, you little rascal, talking bad about me." Balalaika glanced at Levi, then turned her gaze to Isaac.

"Who is this guy? Your boyfriend?"

"Almost there. We met in New York before, and he came to Roanapur to do some business."

"Coming to Roanapur to do business? This kid?" Balaleka was taken aback at first, then chuckled, "Roanapur is not a place for a child like you. I advise you to leave as soon as possible."

Isaac was not angry when he heard this. Instead, he extended his hand and said, "You must be Balalaika from the 'Moscow Hotel'. My name is Isaac, and I'm in the arms business."

"Oh?"

Balalleca was somewhat surprised by his performance.

Normally, people who have just arrived in Roanapur would be terrified of her, but this underage boy gave her a very composed feeling.

After a brief handshake with Isaac, she continued, "There are a lot of rules here. If you want to sell weapons, you'll need the approval of many powerful factions. For Two-hand's sake, I advise you to leave as soon as possible."

“I started doing business when I was twelve years old. My first business was in Colombia, where I had some conflicts with the FARC group.”

"Oh?"

"The second deal was a transaction with the mafia in Romania, and the third was doing business with guerrillas in Afghanistan, braving American and Russian gunfire," Isaac laughed. "My business philosophy is: any rule that doesn't generate profit for me is bullshit."

"Hahahahahahahaha..."

Balalaika burst into laughter after hearing this. Levi, standing next to her, couldn't tell whether she was happy or angry. Her hand had already slowly moved to her holster, ready to fight quickly in case of danger.

"Hahahaha... You really are quite the brat, no wonder you dare to come to Roanapur to do things." After laughing, Balalaika looked at Isaac with a strange smile, "You'd better be careful here from now on."

"What I need to be careful about are those who are hostile to me. I think there should be some business between us."

"What do you want to sell us? If it's something like an AK-47, we can sell it ourselves."

"T-72 tanks and Mi-24 attack helicopters, I wonder if your 'Moscow Hotel' would be interested?" Isaac laughed. "If conditions permit, I can also sell you RK-92s."

"..."

Not only Balalaika, but the soldiers behind her also stared at Isaac in disbelief.

"The weapons you're talking about...are these the ones?"

“You mobsters probably have no interest in guns and cannons. It’s always good to avoid competition between the same products in the same area,” Isaac chuckled. “How about it? Interested in some?”

Chapter 586: Russian Roulette

Late at night, Isaac and Levi came out of the restaurant.

"They only sold one tank. Is a million US dollars a lot of money? This is already a bargain."

Just now, he finalized a deal with Balalaika, selling a T-72 tank and sixty high-explosive shells to the "Moscow Hotel." However, with their current funds, buying even one tank is the limit. It was only through the "nostalgia factor" of the Soviet Union that they were able to sell it.

As a symbol of the steel torrent before the collapse of the Soviet Union, this tank has great symbolic significance, which explains why Balalaika would pay for it.

These weapons were sold off cheaply; Isaac even offered a "free MI-24 attack helicopter with every 15 million purchase" deal, but these people were genuinely poor.

A typical petty thug might get around a thousand dollars for killing someone; human life is incredibly cheap in Roanapur.

“Selling one is already pretty good; our boss isn’t exactly rich,” Levi said from the side. “Besides, one tank is enough to make us practically invincible in Roanapur.”

"Impossible. Using tanks in urban warfare is suicidal. It's better to buy an RK-92."

Through his experiences over the past few years, he has come to understand that AS is more advantageous than tanks in urban warfare and warfare in complex terrain. Isaac understands this, and Balalaika probably understands it as well.

However, the RK-92 Isaac was priced at two million US dollars, which she really couldn't afford.

"Forget it, I have no interest in doing business with poor people. My main purpose in coming to Roanapur is to find a distribution center for the remaining weapons."

"Where to go next? How about we go to a bar?"

"Okay."

The two got into the car, and with the sound of the engine starting, Revy drove off into the distance.

……

In a bar called Yellow Flag, Levi and Isaac sat side by side at the bar.

The bar was already filled with all sorts of people at night, and the bartender was shaking drinks behind the counter.

It is worth noting that the outer layer of the bar appears to be made of an extremely thick armor plate, suggesting that quite a few gunfights have taken place here.

"Bartender, a whiskey, and a tequila for the guy next to me," Levi said, tossing a few bills in front of the bartender.

"Okay, speaking of Two-hand, is this guy next to you your boyfriend?"

"Any objections?"

"No, no." The bartender shook his head and scurried off to get the drinks. He didn't want his bar to be destroyed by this crazy woman again.

Isaac looked around at the scene. The city was already very chaotic during the day, and it was naturally not peaceful at night either.

Everywhere you look, there are thugs gambling or fighting, and the sound of shattering bottles echoes constantly. Unsurprisingly, everyone who comes to the bar carries a gun; in this city, carrying a firearm is a basic requirement.

Prostitutes, drug addicts, mercenaries, and assassins all gather here; an ordinary person would never survive more than three days.

The bartender placed two glasses filled with ice on the counter and looked at Isaac, asking, "Is this your first time in Roanapur, young man?"

"Yes, I guess I'll be staying here for a while from now on."

"Judging from your appearance, you must have lived a wealthy life in some peaceful town before. This city isn't as simple as you think." The bartender glanced at Levi and continued, "Look at those customers drinking. Even if you took a machine gun and mowed them all down, not one of them would be innocent."

In other words, it tells Isaac that everyone who comes here is a villain.

“Roanapura is indeed dangerous, but the more dangerous the place, the more business opportunities it holds.” Isaac stroked the ice in his glass and smiled. “Besides, I’m not the kind of person who’s suited to stay in peaceful areas.”

"No wonder you managed to get together with Two-hand."

Just then, Isaac saw something that greatly interested him.

A group of guys are gathered around a round table, playing Russian roulette.

"I'm going to play over there for a while, wait a moment."

"what?"

Before Levi could react, he had already walked towards the table.

The rules of Russian roulette are simple: one or more bullets are loaded into the six chambers of a revolver, the cylinder is spun randomly, and then closed. Players take turns pointing the gun at their own head and pulling the trigger; whoever is shot is automatically eliminated, and those who chicken out also lose. The last one standing wins.

Bystanders bet on the lives of the participants.

boom!

"Ooooooo!!!"

Amidst the screams of onlookers, a man's head exploded and he slammed onto the table. The surrounding crowd cheered, while the survivor gasped for breath in the smoky air.

Isaac walked up to them, kicked the loser's corpse aside, picked up his revolver, and laughed, "Gentlemen, how about I make a bet with you?"

"what?"

The people gathered around saw Isaac and realized he was a complete stranger.

His attire doesn't resemble that of a Roanapur resident; he looks more like a student going on a picnic.

"Kid, where did you come from?"

"Never mind where I come from. I wonder if you guys have the guts to gamble with me?" Isaac said, throwing a wad of cash onto the table.

The amount of money in these banknotes was so large, amounting to tens of thousands of US dollars, that it could make all the thugs sitting in the bar work for him.

The onlookers' eyes widened when they saw the banknotes.

"Fine, since you don't care about your life, I'm ready to oblige anytime."

A fierce-looking man in the crowd pushed the victor aside and sat down in front of Isaac.

"While you can still regret it now, go back to your mother's arms and drink milk."

"Save your nonsense for when you're alive."

"Fuck!"

Amidst another roar from the surroundings, their gamble began.

The bartender, watching from the side, was sweating profusely. He asked Levi, who was standing nearby, "Hey, your little boyfriend went there and did something reckless, aren't you going to stop him?"

"He'll be fine. He doesn't do things he's not sure of." Levi watched the crowd shouting and yelling with interest.

At the round table, Isaac and the person opposite him each loaded bullets into their revolvers.

"Watch out, kid, don't wet your pants when the time comes." He picked up the gun, pointed it at his head, and pulled the trigger.

Everyone held their breath, then heard a click. The bullet hadn't left the barrel.

"Phew~ It's your turn, kid." He breathed a sigh of relief; what had just happened had made him quite nervous.