That afternoon, Luke arrived at a large private warehouse he had rented in a remote location near West Hollywood.
A box truck had just left the entrance.
A white, sowhat overweight man nad Benjamin and several workers were doing the final cleanup.
"Mr. Luke, all goods have been inventoried and stored. Here is the list."
Benjamin handed over a thick docunt.
"As per your instructions, the items procured from over a dozen different 'equipnt manufacturing companies' or 'film and TV prop companies' across the United States have been delivered in batches. Total freight, handling, and storage fees ca to $150,000. Here are the details."
Luke took the list and scanned it. It was densely packed with entries:
Tang Swords × 1,000Yanling Sabers × 1,000Zhanma dao (horse-chopping sabers) × 1,000Western long swords × 1,000Full-tal hollow-shaft step-lance spears × 1,000Transparent riot shields × 1,000Recurve bows (60-80 lb draw weight) × 1,000Carbon steel arrows × 100,000Full plate armor (steel, custom-made) × 2,000Matching saddles and stirrups × 2,000
Every item was annotated with notes such as "Film & TV props," "Edges sharpened," "Compliant with safety regulations," and included company seals and filing reference numbers.
To disperse attention and avoid potential scrutiny, Luke had used Monica and Bruce to register a shell film production company. Under the na of "large-scale historical war movie prop procurent," he placed orders with multiple companies of varying sizes and qualifications.
He paid extra for rush orders and required sharpened edges… Although this raised so minor questions, the explanations of "money is no object" and "the movie pursues realism" prevented any major resistance.
In Arica, where gun control is strict, people were far less sensitive about the circulation of cold weapons.
Arica doesn't even tightly regulate firearms — why would they care about blades?!
Luke signed the receipt Benjamin provided, then wrote a $50,000 check and handed it to him: "Thank you for your hard work, Benjamin. This is extra compensation."
Benjamin happily accepted the check: "Serving you is our honor, Mr. Luke! You can inspect the goods anyti. If you need movers, just call!"
After dismissing Benjamin and the workers, Luke entered the vast, empty warehouse alone.
The air was filled with the scent of new tal, leather, and wood. Rows of tall shelves were packed with long wooden crates and cardboard boxes wrapped in waterproof tarps, stretching as far as the eye could see.
He locked the main warehouse door securely and carefully checked every corner to ensure there were no hidden caras or listening devices.
Earlier, he had already ordered the removal of all surveillance equipnt inside and outside the warehouse.
Then he walked to the center of the warehouse and looked at the mountain of "film and TV props." A surge of pride filled his heart.
He first went to several crates marked "Andrew Workshop – Custom" and pried them open. Inside were the four titanium-alloy suits of plate armor, the six master-crafted blades, and the titanium soft armor.
He gently stroked the cold tal, feeling the power of modern technology contained within.
Next, he moved to the bulk-purchased crates and randomly opened a few.
Rows of gleaming Yanling sabers lay neatly arranged. Heavy zhanma dao blades shone with sharp edges. The spearheads of the long lances gave off a cold gleam. Although the plate armor pieces were not as finely crafted as those from Andrew's workshop, the materials were solid and the coverage was sufficient.
"This is true confidence…"
Luke murmured to himself, his eyes shining with sharp light.
In Arica, people worried about rampant firearms, AR-15s, and street-gang shootouts.
Who would truly care where these "props," purchased through scattered orders and ultimately gathered in one private warehouse, had gone?
Even if soone investigated, the layered shell companies, seemingly legitimate film project filings, and the final explanation of "possibly for private collection or destruction" would create enough fog.
He walked to an inconspicuous corner deep in the warehouse. Here were not weapons, but boxes labeled "Agricultural supplies," "Hardware parts," and "Outdoor equipnt."
Inside were other supplies he had purchased: high-energy compressed military rations, water purification tablets, first-aid dicines, multi-tools, binoculars, night-vision devices, diesel generators, and even parts for several high-power off-road motorcycles and ATVs… These were preparations for possible extre situations.
In addition to these items… there were also tens of thousands of rounds of 7.62mm ammunition. His private finance team was already planning to acquire a "gun store" and "shooting range." From now on, he could get as many hot weapons as he wanted!
Luke stood in the center of the warehouse, closed his eyes. The next mont, he opened them, a faint light flashing deep in his pupils.
He stretched out his right hand toward the mountain of crates before him and silently commanded in his mind: "Store!"
Without a sound, everything within a ten-ter radius centered on him — crates, wooden boxes, equipnt racks — vanished instantly as if erased by an eraser! The floor beca completely empty!
Luke didn't pause. He stepped to the next section and waved his hand again…
In less than half an hour, the giant warehouse — once packed with enough cold weapons and auxiliary supplies to arm a reinforced company — was completely emptied!
Everything had been transferred into that "mysterious space" that only he could freely access — the space connecting the two worlds.
The warehouse returned to its original emptiness, with only a few traces left from the moving process and the lingering scent in the air.
Luke stood in the center of the now-empty warehouse, let out a long breath, and a smile of relief mixed with ambition appeared on his face.
Modern food, dicine, and tools were the foundation of survival and developnt.
These sharp, sturdy, standardized cold weapons and armors were the sharp blades that could sweep through feudal armies.
And those few suits of "kingly armor" combined with modern top materials and craftsmanship, along with the master-forged blades, would be the symbols of his personal power and authority.
Noble lords of Westeros, are you still using your ancestral, poorly maintained chainmail and long swords to command poorly trained, shabbily equipped levied soldiers?
You don't even pay them wages!
Soon, you will witness what true "dinsional suppression" looks like!
Damn it, I'm too lazy to play those gas of intrigue and scheming anymore!
"The heavy infantry and cavalry of the Jaqenion family…" Luke murmured, clenching his fist, "it's ti for the world of ice and fire to hear the tallic roar from another dinsion."
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