That person still ignored Ethan's mockery, whether because he didn't understand or just didn't care: "By the way, did you know, although I was in an accident, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I found something good in the South American jungle..."

He kept talking to himself, while Ethan ignored him, took a piece of paper from the drawer, quickly wrote a few words on it, folded it twice into a triangular prism, and placed it on the table.

On the outward-facing side of the paper, it read: "Gunsmiths and dogs are not allowed inside."

Gunsmith glanced at the paper: "Hey, I just dropped by to see an old friend, do you really have to go this far?"

Ethan looked at Gunsmith very seriously: "Dropped by? How did you find me here?"

Gunsmith replied woodenly, "Well... I was just walking, and somehow ended up at your bookstore's door."

"Where did your accident happen?"

"Uh... South America."

"Those three words cover eight million square kilometers. Can you be more specific?"

"Uh... I don't know either."

"Where are you now?"

"Uh... somewhere in Asia... right?" Gunsmith had a rather uncertain expression.

Ethan said, "You do know you're in Hokkaido, right?"

Gunsmith clearly got a hint: "Oh, right, right, right, it's Hokkaido, the city near Iceland, near the Arctic Circle."

Ethan's mouth hung half open, his gaze unable to leave Gunsmith's face: "Do you know where north is?"

"Uh..." Gunsmith raised his hand, hesitated for a few seconds, and pointed at the ceiling: "Is it that direction?"

Ethan slammed his face heavily onto the table: "I don't want to see you again."

Gunsmith said helplessly, "Alright, alright, when I helped you make the transfer device, I left a... um... something like a system backdoor. As long as I make a tracker, I can find your bookstore's location."

Ethan still didn't lift his head: "And then?"

Gunsmith replied, "It's simple. After making the tracker, I calculated the coordinates shown on it, marked your location on a world map, found a taxi driver, showed him the map, and he took me to the airport; then I showed the map to the lady at the ticket counter, she gave me a ticket, I took a flight for dozens of hours, after leaving the airport I found another taxi driver..."

Ethan let out a very, very long sigh, sat up straight, and asked, "So what do you want?"

"I need to go somewhere completely isolated to research the new material I got in South America," Gunsmith answered.

Ethan tilted his head, looked at Gunsmith standing across the desk: "Where's the stuff?"

"Oh, in my pants pocket."

"You really carry it with you."

"Yeah."

"And your luggage?"

"What for? I made myself an untraceable credit card, it doesn't leave a real ID when used, and the balance is always a hundred thousand."

"Oh." Ethan nodded. "Then why don't you take your card, go out and find a taxi driver, have him take you to the airport, then find a kind lady to give you a ticket to Iceland, after you arrive, leave the airport and ask for directions, and when you see the ocean, rent a boat, sail to Greenland on the other side, buy a sled and a few sled dogs from the locals, whip the dogs and charge into the Arctic Circle, build an igloo, and do whatever you want."

Gunsmith actually seemed to seriously consider it for a moment: "What would I eat there?"

Ethan spread his hands: "Ah... who knows, early Homo sapiens from hundreds of thousands of years ago might have chosen to cut a hole in the ice, catch some fish, cook them to survive; as for you, eating shit should be enough."

With a flick of his hand, Gunsmith slid out a bizarrely shaped pistol from his sleeve. The gun looked as if it were made of white bone, and in Gunsmith's hand, it appeared quite formidable.

"Enough with the jokes. Are you going to help me or not?"

Ethan propped his chin with one hand, looking completely indifferent, and said weakly, "Oh no, help, this is so serious, it's as if the Mafia sent me a fish."

Gunsmith's gun barrel slowly shifted, finally pointing at the pot of coffee boiling nearby.

Cold sweat broke out on Ethan's forehead, and his eyes suddenly became sharp: "If you dare shoot the coffee pot, I'll chop you up and feed you to the pigs."

"Well... to be honest, the reason I got into that accident and ended up in the jungle, according to my analysis, was definitely not an accident, it must have been man-made. There are only two possibilities: either the Empire wanted to get rid of a 'weapons consultant' who doesn't follow orders, or it was those bastards from Europe's 'Iron Law.' Either way, they're not people you want to cross. After all, I'm only at the 'Bing' level. If they have their eyes on me, I have to keep running, can't stay in one place for long, so now only you can help me hide."

Ethan let out another long sigh: "So how long are you planning to hide?"

Gunsmith said, "That's hard to say... probably a few months. But as long as I can turn the new material into a gun, I can at least reach the 'Qiang' level. Then I can walk sideways across the whole planet."