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While Quan Ying was discussing specific matters with Yuan Xing, Quan Yi, led by Yuan Fei, explored the interior of the blacksmith shop.
The hall was filled with various weapons and armor.
Of course, there were some farm tools in the corners, but their numbers were far fewer than the weapons and armor.
In large cities, the demand for weapons and armor far exceeded that of agricultural tools, leading to higher sales.
Quan Yi carefully examined the quality of the ironware on display.
Although he knew little about forging, he was familiar with weapons and armor, as many were stored in the basement of the Quan family estate.
Comparing the two, the quality of the Yuan family's blacksmithing was not far off, though still slightly inferior to those in the Quan family's collection. However, this was due to the difference in materials—while the Quan family used rare and precious metals, the Yuan family's shop primarily worked with more common resources.
Despite this, it was evident that Blacksmith Yuan's craftsmanship was exceptional.
Quan Yi then turned his attention to the price list.
He sighed—not because the prices were too high, but because they were too low.
Weapons of this caliber should have been sold at a much higher price, yet the listed prices barely covered the cost of materials.
His investigations had revealed that the Yuan family followed a strict policy, only charging 10% above the base cost as profit.
It was a simple and honest business philosophy.
Because of this integrity, the Yuan family blacksmith shop had built a strong reputation.
However, as Blacksmith Yuan's skills continued to improve with age, the quality of his work also reached new heights. Even ordinary materials seemed to take on a unique brilliance in his hands.
Under these circumstances, he should have raised his prices. Instead, he had mistakenly lowered them further.
At first, such high-quality, low-cost goods naturally became popular in the market. But this also invited jealousy and hostility from competitors.
The Yuan family's current struggles were a direct result of being deliberately suppressed and slandered by rival businesses.
Blacksmith Yuan's mistake was underestimating both his own craftsmanship and the ruthless nature of the business world.
In such a cutthroat industry, skill and integrity alone were not enough to survive.
Yet, it was precisely this integrity that convinced Quan Yi he could trust Blacksmith Yuan as a partner.
"Young master, would you like to see the forging room for yourself?"
At that moment, Yuan Xing, having finished discussing the contract, approached Quan Yi.
Unconsciously, his form of address had shifted from "little boy" to "young master."
"Of course. I've long wanted to witness Blacksmith Yuan's craftsmanship firsthand," Quan Yi replied with interest.
After all, this place would soon become his secret base—he had to familiarize himself with it.
Under Blacksmith Yuan's guidance, the group walked through the hall and into the backyard.
The moment Quan Yi stepped through the backyard gate, a wave of heat rushed toward him.
Before them lay an expansive forging room, its large furnace still burning despite the absence of blacksmiths or customers.
Various forging tools were neatly arranged around the workshop, and the entire environment was orderly and well-maintained.
It was nothing like the dirty, chaotic workspace Quan Yi had imagined.
Even with just a glance, he could tell what kind of man Blacksmith Yuan was by the way he maintained his workspace.
Stepping forward, Blacksmith Yuan gestured toward the largest workbench in the room.
"This is my workbench. I do most of my work here—including crafting the young master's ironware."
It was Quan Yi's first time inside a forging room, and he found himself fascinated by the various tools and equipment.
There was something undeniably romantic about having a forge of one's own.
Quan Yi's mood lifted as excitement surged within him.
"Without further ado, Blacksmith Yuan, could you show us your craftsmanship?" Unable to contain his anticipation, he eagerly made the request to Yuan Xing.
"Of course. Son, pull the bellows for me."
This was a great opportunity to demonstrate his skills to his future business partner. Yuan Xing acknowledged his father's command and joined him in showcasing their expertise.
"Alright, Dad."
The two of them removed their shirts in unison, revealing their well-toned upper bodies.
At the same time, their expressions turned serious—much like the focused state Quan Yi entered when training.
"Huff, huff."
Under Yuan Fei's steady control, the bellows pumped rhythmically, keeping the flames burning at a stable temperature.
Before long, the iron block glowed red-hot. Blacksmith Yuan, who had remained still up until now, suddenly grabbed the heated metal with a pair of tongs and placed it onto the anvil.
Then, with a flash of light, a square hammer materialized in his right hand.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Blacksmith Yuan swung his hammer down with practiced precision, striking the iron repeatedly.
The hammer in his hand was none other than the Yuan family's ancestral Martial Soul—the Square-Headed Hammer.
Under Blacksmith Yuan's masterful strikes, the previously irregular lump of metal began to take shape.
Before long, he ceased his hammering, picked up the newly formed piece with the tongs, and plunged it into a vat of water.
"Sizzle—!"
The moment the scorching metal met the cold water, steam exploded into the air, filling the forging room with a thick mist.
As the hissing sound faded, Blacksmith Yuan retrieved the iron piece and proudly presented it to Quan Yi.
Upon seeing the final product, Quan Yi couldn't help but applaud.
"Impressive! Blacksmith Yuan, you are truly worthy of being called a master!"
Resting in Blacksmith Yuan's palm was a perfectly shaped iron sphere—flawlessly round, with no visible imperfections.
It had taken him only ten minutes to hammer an irregular iron block into a near-perfect sphere.
This wasn't just any iron ball. It was the ammunition for the shotgun Quan Yi had commissioned earlier.
Realizing this, Quan Yi quickly pulled out the iron tube he had been carrying and slid the iron ball inside.
The sphere fit perfectly, rolling smoothly down the barrel, with only a few millimeters of clearance.
And yet, Blacksmith Yuan had created this without any measurements—entirely by feel alone.
Holding the gun barrel in his hands, Quan Yi felt a sense of certainty wash over him. With this level of craftsmanship, his dream was no longer just a fantasy—it was becoming reality.
Having witnessed Blacksmith Yuan's exceptional skills firsthand, Quan Yi wasted no time. He moved into the blacksmith shop for the entire week, working tirelessly.
From morning till night, the sound of hammering never ceased.
It was only on the eve of his departure that the forge finally fell silent.
"Young master, does this iron tool of yours really work?" Yuan Xing asked, doubt creeping into his voice.
"Don't worry," Quan Yi replied with confidence. "I know exactly how to use it. And in the right hands, this weapon will unleash its true potential."
In his grip was a long iron object.
One end was thin, the other thick. One part was straight, while another section was slightly irregular.
Yuan Xing had never seen such a peculiar weapon before. He couldn't begin to guess its purpose.
But Quan Yi was more than satisfied.
Against all odds, he had successfully recreated a firearm in this world.
Yes, this iron weapon—this gun—was modeled after the shotguns from his previous life.
Compared to the crude iron pipe from before, this version had been significantly refined. It now featured a proper handle and a sturdy stock, allowing Quan Yi to better manage the recoil from the Seal of Rhinoceros.
In fact, with these improvements, even someone without spirit power would be able to wield it.
Yet the most groundbreaking addition was a simple but functional magazine and an ammo chamber.
The magazine was positioned at the top of the firearm. After firing a shot, Quan Yi only needed to push a switch to open the chamber, allowing a new round to slide effortlessly into the barrel.
This innovation would make reloading much faster and far more efficient.
For now, this weapon was exclusive to him—but in the future, who could say?
In his mind, the Iron Research Institute had already taken on another name.
A name that carried the potential to reshape warfare itself.
The Firearms Research Institute.