The afternoon sun insisted on pouring its heat onto the earth, but Carlos remained comfortable under the cool shade of the trading post. The air carried the mixed scent of dust, sweat, and sawdust, a testament to the incessant work happening around him. Beside him, still and observant, was Specter, his attentive eyes scanning the horizon like those of a hawk.

  The road stretching before them was the beating heart of the quilombo's progress. Known as the Road of Prosperity, it snaked away towards the Holy City, a vein of packed earth and hope. To fuel this growth, two thousand more workers had been hired from other mocambos to build a concrete road to the holy city. Quilombolas from other mocambos were hired because the labor force of the Tatu Mocambo was already fully absorbed. The rhythmic sound of pickaxes, the dragging of heavy carts, and the distant voices of foremen formed a chaotic symphony of construction.

  Amidst this coming and going, a specific group caught the eye. Besides the dozens of merchants' carts, traveled a carriage of immaculate white, adorned with golden details that shimmered under the sunlight. It was a vehicle of medieval design, but it rolled on a shocking innovation: four white rubber tires, custom-made by Carlos specifically for the Popess. Ahead of it, a simpler, more functional carriage carried her bodyguards, who had already disembarked and were inspecting the area with suspicious eyes. Behind, a priest with a serious expression drove a cart loaded with products covered by a heavy canvas tarp.

  Carlos watched as the small convoy approached and finally stopped at the trading post. The door of the white carriage opened and out stepped Paula, the Popess. Her pristine white garments contrasted vividly with the ochre earth of the location, and this time, no veil hid her face. Her light eyes scanned the surroundings before settling on Carlos, and a slight, almost intimate smile curved her lips. Carlos, in turn, felt the corner of his mouth lift in response.

  "Good day, Your Holiness," greeted Carlos, with a slight nod of his head. "I did not expect your visit so soon."

  Specter inclined his head in a respectful gesture, his voice echoing the greeting.

  "Good day, Your Holiness."

  Paula closed the carriage door and approached, the fabric of her robes whispering against the earthen ground.

  "Good day, Carlos. Good day, Specter. I decided to personally bring the firearms and magical weapons you requested. I took the opportunity to come, as your mocambo has products that... well, that interest me greatly." Her eyes shone with a mix of curiosity and greed. "Besides, I confess my curiosity about how these weapons from your world work. I would love to see a demonstration."

  Specter crossed his arms, his face impenetrable.

  "Of course, Your Holiness. However, I fear that demonstrating their use here, in the middle of a public thoroughfare, is not the most prudent thing to do."

  "That will not be a problem," she retorted, making a quick signal to her guards. "We can proceed to a more discreet location."

  Carlos, however, seemed distracted, his eyes searching for someone.

  "And Francisco? Didn't he come with you today?"

  "He has his own business to attend to," replied Paula, with a slight tone of disdain. "He is keen on acquiring more 'divine books' for my collection."

  "I see, should he happen to find any divine book that is not of your interest..." Carlos began, choosing his words carefully. "I would accept it with the greatest pleasure."

  Paula gave him a perceptive look.

  "I will keep your... offer in mind, Carlos."

  Meanwhile, Specter had already started walking, his slender figure moving with purpose.

  "Your Holiness, if you would follow me, I will take you to our weapons testing range. It is the most suitable location."

  The Popess nodded in agreement and began to follow him, making another gesture for her guards to remove the tarp from the cart and carry the strange artifacts. The group then set off, leaving the bustle of the trading post behind and entering the construction site proper.

  The air changed, becoming heavier with the smell of sweat and the metallic clang of tools. As they dodged men carrying cement blocks and passed others felling trees with axes, Paula resumed the conversation, her tone one of satisfaction.

  "The construction on our side of the Road of Prosperity is progressing at a good pace. And the local merchants, I must say, were amazed by this new product, cement. Francisco, of course, was not at all pleased that I formed a construction guild and passed the recipe on to its members."

  Carlos raised an eyebrow, interested.

  "Oh? And why is he displeased?"

  "He believes it dilutes his profits," explained Paula, with a sigh that seemed more theatrical than genuine. "But, as Popess, my duty is not merely to fatten the purse of a single merchant, no matter how influential he may be. It is to consider what benefits everyone. I believe that competition among several cement producers will stimulate quality and lower prices. And, as a bonus, the secret of its manufacture will remain safe within the guild."

  Carlos couldn't help but smile, impressed.

  "You truly are a forward-thinking person, Your Holiness. Sometimes, I even suspect that you might not be from this world either."

  Paula, though accustomed to flattery, blushed slightly. That specific compliment touched her intellectual vanity.

  Finally! she thought, her ego inflating like a balloon. Someone who recognizes my genius, who sees beyond appearances!

  But the balloon was quickly deflated by Carlos's next words.

  "However, I fear your idea, although brilliant in theory, might encounter problems in the future."

  "Problems?" she asked, her smile fading a little.

  "At the moment, yes, it will generate competition," he continued, picking up a small stone from the ground and examining it. "But it won't be long before the guild members realize that, instead of competing among themselves with low prices and quality work, it is much more profitable to unite and keep prices artificially high. To form a cartel."

  He tossed the stone away.

  "The idea of the guild itself is good, don't get me wrong. Even if the knowledge of cement spread throughout the world, this kind of agreement between large producers could happen. Perhaps not with cement, as it's a product easier to manufacture locally, but certainly with other items in the future."

  Paula fell silent for a long moment, processing Carlos's prediction. Her guards and even Specter exchanged confused glances; the conversation about future economies and monopolies sounded like a foreign language to them.

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  "That's... an interesting point of view," she finally conceded, her voice more subdued. "I will keep that in mind, Carlos. Thank you for the warning."

  The conversation died down as the group finally reached a more remote clearing, marked by wooden barrels and scattered shooting targets. It was the testing area of the Mountain Range Mocambo. The air here smelled of burnt gunpowder and metal.

  As the Popess's guards carefully placed the weapons on the ground, she made an observation.

  "To be honest, I'm not sure if everything I brought are, in fact, firearms. They are all divine metal artifacts that the Church preferred not to burn. They have been stored for decades."

  Carlos could barely contain his excitement. His eyes fixed on a long, dark weapon that one of the guards deposited on the ground. He wasn't an expert, but he instantly recognized the distinctive shape of a precision rifle.

  "This... this one is a sniper rifle!" he exclaimed, his voice laden with almost reverent admiration. He knelt beside the weapon, his fingers hovering over the cold, blackened metal without touching it, as if it were a sacred relic. The wooden stock was rough in some spots, but the long barrel and the scope mounted on top spoke of a mortal and precise purpose. "With this, we can eliminate a threat at an incredible distance, where not even the best archer could hit. The accuracy is excellent!"

  Everyone looked at him, expecting more. He noticed the expectant looks and, with hands slightly trembling from excitement, began frantically searching through the ammunition boxes. He found the long, slender cartridges.

  "Here!" he said, working the bolt action with some difficulty, but with the determination of someone who had seen it done before. "You need to see this. Specter, that barrel target, way over there, near those rocks. Do you see it?"

  Specter, who was already visibly excited, followed the direction of Carlos's finger.

  "I see it. Must be about three hundred, maybe four hundred paces, or meters as you call them."

  "Perfect," Carlos took a deep breath, rested the stock against his shoulder, and nestled his cheek against the stock, closing one eye. Everyone's breath seemed to halt. He pressed the trigger.

  CRACK!

  The report was sharp, loud, and violent, a sound unlike anything they had ever heard. It wasn't the boom of thunder, but an aggressive crack that echoed through the clearing and made several of the Popess's guards instinctively reach for their swords. A flock of birds took flight in fright from a distant tree.

  At the same instant, the wooden barrel, which seemed a small dot on the horizon, jumped backward with force, wood splinters flying everywhere. A clean, round hole now marked its center.

  A charged silence hung in the air, broken only by the ringing in their ears.

  "My God..." whispered one of the guards, his voice full of disbelief.

  Specter's eyes widened, a spark of pure tactical interest ignited in his gaze.

  "Excellent for eliminating high-value targets!" he exclaimed, his voice restrained but laden with fervor. "They won't even know where the attack came from!"

  He approached and carefully took the weapon from Carlos's hands, feeling the solid weight and the residual heat from the barrel. He raised it, closing one eye and aiming through the scope. A magnified, detailed world opened before his eye. "Hmm. The image is clear, but it shakes with breathing... I think I could talk to Nia... take the vision crystal from a spyglass and attach it to this weapon to be able to identify adepts at long distances. Imagine a sight that can see any magical movement from afar, not only that, but also can eliminate any threat from a long distance..."

  At that very moment, a soft voice echoed right behind Specter, so close her breath almost touched his ear.

  "This weapon is perfect for me."

  Carlos jumped back, his heart racing like a war drum. Whisper was there, as if she had materialized from the very elongated shadows of the evening. No one else seemed surprised; they were accustomed to sensing her subtle presence, a slight change in air pressure.

  "I already use the assassin's gem," she continued, her voice a near-hypnotic whisper, while her slender fingers passed over the sniper rifle's barrel with a certain familiarity. "With a magical scope I can see a target a kilometer away as if it were ten paces away. And I can turn invisible with the assassin's gem. It would be the ideal weapon. A deadly whisper they will never hear coming."

  Shortly after, Shadow appeared beside his sister, his silent steps making not a single sound on the soft earth. His eyes, serious and analytical, scanned the arsenal.

  "I think any firearm becomes formidable in the hands of adepts of the assassin's gem," he commented, his voice a deeper contrast to his sister's. "The element of surprise is our greatest ally. But this one..." he pointed to the sniper rifle "...this is the embodiment of absolute silence. The death that comes from a place they don't even know exists."

  Specter merely nodded in agreement, lowering the sniper rifle with renewed respect. The weapon was no longer just an artifact; it was a potential extension of his own assassins.

  The excitement was palpable. Carlos, reinvigorated, picked up one of the shotguns.

  "This one is more... direct," he announced, loading it. He pointed towards an empty stack of planks about twenty meters away. "It doesn't have much accuracy, but it doesn't need to."

  BOOM!

  The roar was overwhelming, much deeper and more threatening than the sniper's. The recoil was brutal, shoving Carlos's shoulder back. The stack of planks simply disintegrated, turning into a cloud of splinters and dust.

  The Popess, who had observed everything with an academic curiosity, instinctively took a step back, her eyes wide. The guards, now clearly impressed and somewhat alarmed, exchanged serious looks. That was not a power that could be blocked with ordinary armor.

  Finally, Carlos picked up the heavy machine gun, resting it on the ground.

  "And this one... this is for when you need to say 'no' to an entire army all at once," he said, with a slightly strained smile, still panting from the effort. "It spits fire and metal faster than a dragon breathes fire. Unfortunately, we can't waste the ammunition now, but trust me."

  After thoroughly examining the rest of the arsenal, a new respect hung in the air. There were shotguns, submachine guns, and even a bazooka, although there was no ammunition for the latter. For a gang fight, it would be a formidable arsenal. For a war between armies, perhaps they wouldn't be enough to turn the tide alone, but they would certainly be a decisive asset in crucial battles. They were no longer just objects; they were tools of change, and everyone present felt the weight of this new power in their hands.

  After the firearms had all been inspected, the Popess wiped her hands with a white handkerchief.

  "I also brought the magical weapons you asked for."

  This time, it was Specter who couldn't disguise his interest. While the firearms empowered the common folk, the magical weapons would give a greater fighting chance to the adepts who were previously stuck with just spears.

  "Your Holiness," he said, and a small, but genuine, smile appeared on his lips. "All of this will help us immensely. We are in your debt."

  Paula shook her head, an almost maternal gesture.

  "You all also help me, Specter. And I hope you all continue to do so. I hope you all always see me as your sole and preferred business partner." She looked at the sky, where the sun was beginning to decline. "Now, if you all will excuse me, my carts are empty and I have many products to fill them with. Chocolates, shampoos, gloves, tires... the list is long."

  The rest of the afternoon was dedicated to trade. The Popess toured every stall, shop, and market in the mocambo, her white figure a familiar and powerful sight. She bought enthusiastically, examining fabrics, tasting sweets, and smelling soaps. Her guards, initially imposing, soon found themselves transformed into pack mules, their arms full of packages, boxes, and bags of all shapes and sizes.

  Before retiring, she paid a visit to the local church for a quick prayer and then headed to the apartment complex, where a room was kept for her until the completion of the hotel for distinguished visitors. The hotel, which Carlos was personally supervising, promised to be an even more imposing structure.

  Early the next morning, the white carriage with its rubber tires departed back to the Holy City. From inside, Paula looked out the window, her face illuminated by a deep satisfaction. She was not just taking merchandise; she was taking the certainty of a profitable partnership, the seed of ideas that could change her world, and the vivid image of a hospital that functioned as a haven of cleanliness and order, a model to be followed.