Black armor glittered with a cold sheen under the light, the custom size making it fit his forearm perfectly. He swung his right fist, feeling a familiar yet strange sense of power.
This piece of individual equipment was lightweight and portable, capable of enhancing a soldier's strength, improving shooting accuracy, and reducing the recoil of firearms on the arm. It also had some small attached functions, which made it a rare treasure when he was in the service.
Only now, active soldiers hardly used them anymore.
He walked out of the storeroom, put on a long-sleeved jacket, and carefully concealed his right arm's armor. Then, he slipped the magazine into his handgun and tucked it into his waistband.
He glanced toward his daughter's room, a smile unconsciously spreading across his face. A cute cartoon rabbit doorbell hung on the wooden door, something he and his daughter had made together just a week ago.
