My SSS-Rank Kingdom-Building System

"Alright "As she stood up and walked towards the room of her parents.. reaching inside she pulled a box from under the bed..

"Here You Go.."as she handed him the cash

"Thank you, I'll be back soon," Leon muttered as he tucked the cash into his jacket pocket, giving Emily a quick nod before stepping out of her room. 

He exited the house and slid into his old, rusted car. The vehicle had seen better days—its paint chipped, the seats worn, and the engine sputtering like it was ready to give up at any moment. Leon didn't have time to worry about that now. He needed money, and fast.

Driving down the street. He pulled up to the nearest car dealership, a small lot that looked like it hadn't seen a new car in years. The sign read "Buy, Sell, Trade," in faded letters, but it would have to do.

He parked and stepped out, the car's engine coughing one last time before it fell silent. A guy in his late twenties, wearing a mechanic's jumpsuit, was leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. He looked up as Leon approached.

"Hey," Leon called out. "I'm looking to sell this."

The guy glanced over the car with a quick once-over, his eyes narrowing. "This thing's seen better days," he muttered, stepping closer. "I'll give you $3,000 for it, tops. You won't get much more than that."

Leon hesitated, but only for a moment. He didn't have time to haggle. "Fine," he said, the urgency in his voice clear.

The guy pulled out a tablet and tapped away, inputting the details. A few minutes later, the paperwork was done, and Leon handed over the keys. The dealership took the car off his hands, and Leon walked away with $3,000 in cash, folded in his jacket pocket.

The money was barely enough for what he needed, but it would have to do. 

He tossed the cash into the glove compartment and drove off, the engine groaning in protest as he made his way to the weapons store.

The store was tucked in an alley, the sign barely visible to anyone who wasn't actively searching for it. Leon had been here before. He knew the drill. He walked through the heavy metal door, greeted by the familiar scent of gunpowder and old leather. The owner, a grizzled man in his fifties with a thick beard and wary eyes, didn't even look up as Leon entered.

Leon approached the counter, his voice low but steady. "I need to buy an M4 assault rifle. Preferably a military-grade model."

The shopkeeper didn't blink. "You know that's not something civilians can just walk in and buy, right? You need a license for that kind of weapon. You ex-military?"

Leon pulled out his military ID, sliding it across the counter. The man glanced at it, then back at Leon with a grunt.

"Ex-military, huh? That'll make things easier." The shopkeeper nodded and pushed a small stack of paperwork toward Leon. "You'll need to fill out the forms and provide proof of your background, like a copy of your discharge papers. That'll clear you for the purchase."

Leon did as instructed, filling out the forms with practiced speed. He'd gone through this routine more than once in the past. After what seemed like an eternity, the shopkeeper nodded in approval.

"Alright, you're cleared. I'll grab the rifle."

The old man disappeared into the back, returning a few minutes later with a large, sealed box. He placed it on the counter, and Leon's eyes briefly flicked over the label: Colt M4 Carbine, 5.56mm. It was a military-grade assault rifle, compact, reliable, and lethal in the right hands.

The rifle came fully customized with tactical accessories—a suppressor, a reflex sight, and a few extra magazines.

"It's packed, ready for transport," the shopkeeper said. "But remember, this isn't something you can just walk around with. You've got the proper license, but you're still gonna need a discreet carry option."

Leon nodded. No one was allowed to openly carry such a weapon in public, especially not with the legal scrutiny that would follow.

He glanced around the store, his eyes landing on a duffel bag sitting in the corner. "What about carrying it?" he asked.

"Got just the thing," the shopkeeper said with a sly grin, reaching into a nearby shelf and pulling out a large, black duffel bag. It was heavy-duty, built to conceal the rifle, with a thick, padded interior that would prevent anyone from noticing what it contained. "This should do the trick. It's the kind of bag no one gives a second glance."

Leon paid the man and packed the rifle and ammo into the bag, careful to make sure it didn't bulge or give away its contents. Once everything was secured, he slung the bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight of what was inside.

"Don't cause trouble with that, alright?" the shopkeeper warned as Leon walked toward the door.

Leon gave him a brief nod. "I won't."

The moment he stepped outside.

"System," Leon called out, glancing around the street. "Where are you going to send me? Can you give me any idea of what to prepare for?"

[Medieval Fantasy World. Suggested preparation: Basic survival resources.]

"Great," Leon muttered to himself. "Salt, I guess. I can't think of much else."

The thought of salt made sense. In a medieval fantasy world, something as simple as salt could be extremely valuable—used for preservation, trade, and even healing in some cases.

With that thought in mind, Leon turned his attention to the streets. He'd need to find some basic supplies before he left, especially anything that could help him survive in a world where technology didn't exist.

He walked quickly through the city, his mind running through the checklist in his head. Food, water, some basic survival gear... and salt.

As he passed by a convenience store, his eyes caught a small container of salt on a shelf near the checkout counter. The price was low—cheap for what it could potentially be worth in the new world.

He picked it up without a second thought and paid the cashier. Once he had the salt, he immediately headed to a nearby store specializing in camping gear.

The store was packed with everything from tents to knives, and he quickly gathered a few essentials: a small first aid kit, a compact sleeping bag, and some more non-perishable food.

Once everything was packed and ready, he made sure his rifle and gear were secure in the duffel bag.

He needed to be as prepared as possible—whether it was against monsters or hostile people in the medieval world.