The door shut behind us with a dull click.
For a second, nobody said anything.
You could hear it though—movement somewhere deeper inside. Not loud. Just… there.
Then a voice came from behind one of the racks.
"Una first time here?"
A man stepped out.
He didn't look as scary as the guy outside, but something about him still felt off. Calm. Too calm. Like nothing in this room surprised him anymore.
He glanced at all of us, one by one.
When his eyes got to me, they paused… just a bit longer.
Then he gave a small smile.
"Welcome. Wetin una wan buy?"
Mr. Chibueze stepped forward like he'd done this before.
"They're new."
The man nodded slowly. "Yeah… I can tell."
He turned and waved his hand.
"Come. Make I show una something."
We followed him deeper inside.
Up close, everything looked… different.
Not like in movies.
Real.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
He stopped by a rack and picked up a rifle like it weighed nothing.
"This one?" he said, tapping it lightly. "Simple. No stress. E no go fail you when things don bad."
He looked at me.
"First time, you no need anything fancy. When wahala start, your brain go blank. Na what your body fit handle go save you."
Skywhite leaned forward almost immediately.
"What about something faster? Like… automatic?"
The man laughed under his breath.
"Ah. You dey rush."
He walked to another section and picked up a sleeker gun.
"This one dey faster, true. But if your hand no steady, e go control you instead."
He handed it to Skywhite.
"Carry am."
Skywhite took it—and his whole vibe changed.
Still excited…
…but now he could feel it.
The weight.
Gift stepped closer, folding her arms.
"I don't want anything big like that. Something smaller."
The man nodded.
"Better."
He opened a glass case and brought out a handgun.
"This one easy to carry. Quick."
He handed it to her.
"But if you panic… e no go forgive you."
I hadn't moved.
I was still looking around.
Every corner.
Every weapon.
Even the shadows.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He turned back to me.
"You nko?"
(What about you?)
"What you dey find?"
I hesitated.
Then I just said it straight.
"Something wey go keep me alive."
He looked at me for a second.
Then he smiled again—but this time… it wasn't friendly.
"Good."
He walked past the others and stopped at another rack.
These ones looked rougher.
Not shiny. Not neat.
Just… built for damage.
He picked one and held it out to me.
"No pick because e fine," he said.
"Pick wetin you go still fit use… when fear catch you."
Nobody talked after that.
Even Skywhite kept quiet.
From behind us, Mr. Chibueze spoke.
"Teach them properly."
The man nodded.
Then he looked at all of us again.
This time, no smile.
"Alright."
He rested the gun back on the rack.
"Make una listen well."
A short pause.
"Because outside…"
He glanced toward the door.
"…nobody go give una second chance."The deal was done quickly.
Cash changed hands.
No receipts. No questions.
Just nods.
"Pack am," the seller said, and two guys from the back moved fast, bringing out cases, ammo, cleaning kits… even things I didn't recognize.
Mr. Chibueze barely checked anything.
"Let's move," he said.
"Not yet," the seller cut in.
We paused.
He looked at us, then jerked his head toward a side door.
"Una no go carry all these things go outside like that. Come."
The room behind the door was smaller.
Concrete walls. No windows.
A long metal table in the center.
"Drop everything."
We did.
He picked up one of the rifles and slapped it onto the table.
"Listen. I no get time to repeat myself."
He pointed.
"First—handling."
He grabbed the rifle, checked it in one smooth motion.
"Always assume say e loaded. Always."
Click.
Magazine out.
Chk.
Chamber checked.
"Finger no go touch trigger unless you wan fire. No mistake here."
He shoved it into my hands.
"Hold am."
I took it.
He adjusted my grip immediately.
"No. Tight here. Shoulder firm. If e kick you, na your fault."
He turned to Skywhite.
"You—come."
He handed him another one.
"Balance. If your body no stable, forget am."
Gift stepped forward on her own.
"I want to learn that one again."
He smirked slightly.
"Good."
Next—cleaning.
He broke the rifle apart like it was nothing.
Pieces laid out in seconds.
"After use, you clean am. If you no clean am, one day e go jam… and that day fit be your last."
He tossed a cloth at Divine.
"Wipe. Inside first. Slowly."
Oil came next.
"Not too much. Not too small. You no dey fry egg."
Reassembly.
Fast.
Clean.
Efficient.
"Again."
We repeated it.
Hands shaky at first.
Then better.
Then faster.
Then he switched.
Handguns.
Shorter.
Sharper.
"Close range. No time to think. Draw—fire—move."
He demonstrated.
So fast I almost missed it.
"Try."
We went one by one.
Draw.
Aim.Dry fire.Reset.Again.
Again.
Again.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe longer.
Time felt strange in that room.
Then—
"Arrange your things."
Ammo sorted.
Weapons packed.
Everything placed with purpose.
No clutter.
"No go scatter your loadout. When wahala start, you no get time dey find bullets."
We finished.
Breathing heavier now.
Sweat on our skin.
But something had changed.
We weren't just holding weapons anymore.
We understood them.
A little.
"Alright," the seller said. "Una fit go."
We started packing up.
That's when I saw it.
It wasn't on the main racks.
It was further back.
Almost hidden.
A black saber.
Not shiny.
Not decorative.
Just… dark.
The blade looked like it swallowed light instead of reflecting it.
Edges too clean.
Too perfect.
Like it wasn't made here.
I stepped closer without thinking.
"David."
I didn't answer.
The seller's voice came from behind me.
"You get eye."
I turned.
He was watching me.
Different now.
More serious.
"That one no be normal blade," he said, walking over slowly.
He stopped beside me.
"E come from something wey fall from sky."
I frowned slightly.
"…What?"
He reached out and tapped the flat of the blade.
A low, strange hum followed.
Not loud.
But you could feel it.
"Meteor metal," he said quietly. "Something like that."
He looked at me.
"E no dull."
A pause.
"E no break."