Landlord in the Arctic-Chapter 41: Supplies

They left Nash behind to look after Prince and Coca-Cola.

The two of them drove the pickup truck from the suburbs back to the Polar Star Autonomous Region.

When he saw the place Tom had mentioned that sold satellite phones, Feng Mountain was left speechless.

A Walmart Supermarket. They really sold everything—food, drinks, clothes, guns, and even satellite phones. The only things they seemed to be missing were cars and planes.

They headed into the supermarket.

Tom led him to the counter where they sold satellite phones. Unfortunately, the salesperson this time was a stern-faced woman, built as sturdily as a grizzly bear, who looked at everyone like they owed her money.

After they stated their purpose, the woman, her face a rigid mask, pulled out a device that looked like a walkie-talkie and began speaking as if reciting from a user manual.

"This is the new 9575 handheld satellite phone from the Iridium Company. It’s currently the smallest on the market. It’s waterproof, dustproof, and shockproof, making it highly resistant to external damage and extremely durable."

"It has a standby time of thirty hours and four hours of continuous talk time. It also supports online tracking and provides Google services."

"You can also opt for the Iridium mobile terminal. Iridium’s satellite communication service allows you to use more than just the satellite phone; it can also provide location services for your cell phone and offers data transfer speeds of 1 Mbps."

"Trust me, son. In the Arctic Circle, an Iridium satellite phone is your best option."

Feng Mountain turned to Tom, who nodded in agreement. "Buddy, I’ll be honest, you have a lot of options for sat phones. Iridium phones are expensive and people complain about them all the time, but you can’t deny that in the Arctic and Antarctic, they’re the best choice."

"How much?"

The stern woman’s face finally showed a flicker of emotion. ’Someone’s actually buying it at that price? He must have been smacked in the head by a grizzly.’

"The Iridium 9575 satellite phone is $3,000. Calls are $8 a minute. If you opt for the mobile terminal, it’s a $1,000 monthly service fee. The equipment itself is provided for free by the Iridium Company, but you have to sign a two-year contract."

"Cash or check?" Feng Mountain pulled out his checkbook.

....

He ordered the complete Iridium Company package, adding on three extra battery packs and a solar charging unit. In the Far North Region, the days would only get shorter and the nights longer. Preparing extra batteries in advance was essential to keep the phone working.

Fortunately, the mobile terminal didn’t require a technician for installation. The setup was completely foolproof; he could do it himself just by following the instruction manual.

After completing the purchase, Feng Mountain arranged for the Iridium Company to deliver the equipment directly to Tom’s flight school.

Feng Mountain decided to continue shopping. ’Since I’m already here, I might as well get all the supplies in one go. It’ll save me from running back and forth.’

The food section.

Meat was plentiful in the Crown Territory, so he didn’t need to buy any. He focused on staples like rice, flour, and noodles.

He loaded cart after cart with oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, and cumin. The sheer volume of it made the Walmart staff think he was a looter, and they nearly called the police. Once they understood the situation, however, they immediately assigned a few employees to help him transport his haul.

"Buddy, are you planning to open a supermarket on the tundra?" Tom asked, baffled. He gestured to a cart piled high with various chili peppers. "When you run out, you can just fly back to Fairbanks. All these spices will expire before you can use them."

’Spices expire?’

’Man, you’ve clearly never seen a Chinese kitchen.’

’Spices like chili bean paste, Lao Gan Ma, chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, and star anise... we use them even if they’re past the expiration date.’

’Expiration dates are for amateurs. As long as it hasn’t actually spoiled, it’s still good.’

Feng Mountain picked up a bag of cinnamon bark, tossed it into the cart, and gestured for a store employee to take it to the checkout.

With the food section cleared, he launched another major shopping spree in the clothing department.

Thermal wear, down jackets, windbreakers, backpacks, outdoor tents—if it looked useful, he bought it.

His illogical, frantic shopping spree began to attract a crowd of onlookers, prompting Tom to pointedly put some distance between himself and Feng Mountain.

’These foreigners. They have no idea what it means to stock up and prepare for the worst.’

’Wait until a blizzard traps them in their homes. They’ll be the ones panicking then.’

Feng Mountain pursed his lips and went back to his shopping.

After he was done with the living essentials, he walked to the final stop on his trip: the gun counter.

Thanks to the massive, money-hemorrhaging shopping spree, the salesman at the gun counter had been pacing back and forth in anticipation.

Since buying a gun in Alaska doesn’t require a permit, the racks were filled with all sorts of firearms.

Handguns, semi-automatic rifles, sniper rifles, hunting rifles, antique firearms, and even various bows and arrows were on display.

Accompanied by the salesman, Feng Mountain did a quick survey. Long guns were generally priced between $1,000 and $2,000, while handguns were in the $300 to $500 range.

Purchasing handguns and semi-automatic rifles required an Alaska resident ID, while automatic rifles and shotguns required United States citizenship. Since Feng Mountain only had a green card, fully automatic rifles were out of the question.

However, once his FFL was approved, he’d be able to purchase fully automatic weapons online, so citizenship wasn’t that important to Feng Mountain.

"I need a few handguns. Any recommendations?"

"Of course, sir. I’ll just need to see your ID," the salesman asked politely. He took Feng Mountain’s green card, ran a background check on the computer, and handed it back, his smile widening. "We have a wide variety of handguns. Right this way."

The salesman led him to the handgun counter and took a black pistol from the glass case.

"This is the Glock 17, one of the most popular firearms of the year. It’s semi-automatic and features a modern fire-control system. The trigger pull is smooth and consistent, the muzzle velocity is around 374 m/s, and its effective range is about 50 meters."

"It sells for $766."

’Isn’t this the same gun Frank gave me for self-defense last night?’

’He took it back before I even got to fire it.’

Feng Mountain’s eyes lit up. He took the gun and handled it, enjoying the comfortable feel of the grip.

"I’ll take it. What else can you show me?"

The salesman grinned and pulled another pistol, also black, from the case.

"This is the Beretta 92. It’s also a semi-automatic and serves as the standard-issue sidearm for the military and law enforcement agencies of several countries. It has been battle-tested for years, ensuring its durability and reliability. It uses standard 9x19mm Parabellum ammunition, has a standard magazine capacity of 15 rounds, and can take extended magazines of up to 32. Its effective range is also about 50 meters."

"Price is $799."

"I’ll take it. Got anything else?"

"Yes, sir!" The salesman immediately produced a tray of handguns, though this time they were all revolvers.

"The Ruger GP100. This is a limited commemorative edition, one of only 500 made worldwide. It fires .44 Special ammunition, has a five-round cylinder, and a 4.2-inch barrel. The grips are walnut and feature the laser-engraved signature of Jeff Quinn."

"The Dan Wesson .445 SuperMag. It fires .445 SuperMag ammunition and the cylinder holds five rounds. It’s extremely powerful and mostly used for hunting large game, like grizzly bears."

"I’ll take them all. And pack 500 rounds of ammunition for each one. Now, show me the semi-automatic rifles." Feng Mountain suffered from decision paralysis; when it was hard to choose, his solution was to just buy everything.

A blissful smile spread across the salesman’s face. He quickly called a coworker over to start boxing everything up while he personally led Feng Mountain to the semi-automatic rifle counter.

His first recommendation was, naturally, the American people’s favorite semi-automatic rifle: the AR-15.

An AR-15 rifle is shorter than a baseball bat,

lighter than a bowling ball, easy to fire, has minimal recoil, is simple to aim, and its high-velocity rounds make it extremely lethal.

Feng Mountain, who had seen *First Blood*, was of course familiar with this gun. He recalled the film’s imposing hero, Boss Shi, using it to just go RAT-A-TAT-TAT and mow everyone down. Even though this was the semi-automatic version, he bought it immediately.

After that, he bought several more semi-automatic rifles, hunting rifles, and shotguns.

The salesman gave him a mysterious smile. "Sir, I happen to have a semi-automatic rifle here from your homeland. I wonder if you might be interested."

...