mark4

The final gun is made, your work is done. You curl up on the sofa, and shut your eyes to sleep.

But you fail, and after tossing about several times you finally get up from the sofa in frustration. The workshop will be closed, and all relevant work will be taken over by the Shrine of Gunsmithing.

Now, you are the only one in the workshop. There are no customers or apprentices, and finally you feel the reality of the workshop's closure. Guns have kept you company your whole life, and you feel sorrow over having to part with them.

You sigh in silence, sitting within the darkness, bidding farewell to the workshop you poured so much sweat and tears over. Right now, you have so much to say.

Unfortunately, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. You do not want to pay it any mind, but the man dressed like a functionary walks right in.

'Hello. Anybody home?'