THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 10: The Magic Gun Shop

A New Path –

Leon turned the rusted dagger over in his hands, inspecting the chipped edge and the dark stains along the blade. It had served its purpose, but it wasn't enough.

His first real battle had made one thing clear—he couldn't rely on a knife.

Fighting up close wasn't his style. He wasn't a warrior who could trade blows or a mage who could stand still and cast spells from afar. He was something else.

His summons fought for him. They took the hits, they engaged the enemy, they gave him space to think. But for that to work, he needed a weapon that fit his role.

His eyes flicked to his Zombie Mage, floating silently nearby. It had already adapted—leveling up, evolving. So why shouldn't he do the same?

He didn't need a sword.

He didn't need a staff.

He needed something faster.

Something that could let him strike from a distance without standing still.

A gun.

The Underground Magic Shop

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The streets were quiet at this hour, the usual crowds of adventurers and merchants having long since cleared out. Leon moved through the alleyways, avoiding the well-lit roads, making his way toward a part of the city that most people avoided.

The underground market wasn't exactly illegal—but it wasn't for ordinary buyers, either. If you wanted something unconventional, something not approved by the guilds, you came here.

Leon stopped in front of an iron-reinforced door, half-hidden between two abandoned buildings. No signs, no markings—just a heavy steel lock engraved with runes.

He knocked twice.

A slit in the door slid open, revealing a pair of sharp, mechanical eyes behind a set of brass-rimmed goggles.

"You don't look like a regular," a gruff voice muttered.

Leon didn't answer. He simply held up a handful of silver coins.

The eyes behind the goggles squinted, then disappeared as the slot snapped shut.

A moment later, the door creaked open.

Leon stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, the scent of oil, burnt metal, and faint mana residue filling the air. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with odd weapons—guns with glowing runes, crossbows infused with spell crystals, even mana-charged explosives in thick, reinforced casings.

Behind the counter, a stocky dwarf with a soot-stained apron and leather gloves leaned against the table, adjusting the gears on a mechanical gauntlet.

"Haven't seen you before," the dwarf muttered, his voice like grinding stone. "What're ya buyin'?"

Finding the Magic Gun

Leon's eyes scanned the weapons, ignoring the heavier gear meant for warriors.

He wasn't looking for power—he needed precision.

And then, he saw it.

A sleek, dark-steel firearm, smaller than the others but lined with faintly glowing runes.

Unlike traditional weapons, it had no place for bullets or cartridges. Instead, a small mana chamber sat at its core, humming softly with stored energy.

"Aim, pull the trigger, and it fires compressed mana bolts," the dwarf said, noticing Leon's interest. "No bullets needed, just yer own energy."

Leon picked it up.

The weight felt perfect in his grip.

Balanced. Light. Designed for speed over power.

The dwarf let out a chuckle.

"A gunner necromancer? That's a first."

Leon didn't care.

He flicked open a small panel on the side, watching as the mana chamber pulsed faintly in response to his touch. The mechanism was smooth, responsive, simple.

This was exactly what he needed.

"I'll take it," he said.

Outside the city, the old training grounds sat abandoned, long since replaced by the newer, guild-run facilities. Cracked stone dummies still stood in place, remnants of past training sessions, covered in old scorch marks and sword slashes.

Leon stood at a distance, rolling his shoulders as he raised the mana gun.

He let his mana flow into the chamber, feeling the slight resistance as the gun absorbed his energy. The runes along the barrel flared faintly, signaling it was ready.

He took aim.

Pulled the trigger.

A compressed mana bullet fired out, streaking through the air in a glowing blue arc, slamming into the stone dummy's chest with a sharp impact.

A clean hit.

No recoil. No delay.

Just speed. Precision.

Leon fired again, adjusting his aim. This time, he hit the dummy's head.

A slow grin formed on his face.

His summons would be his frontline.

He would be their ranged support.

He had never heard of a gunner necromancer before.

But that was exactly why it would work.

He wasn't following the rules. He was making new ones.