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"I do. You don't sell the food I made and I don't sell drinks. But you do. Folks get thirsty from salty food. I send 'em your way. Maybe you can stock a few drinks at my business later. What do you say, Mr. Douglas?"
Mr. Douglas nodded slowly. "Smart. Real smart. I like it, Caleb. Pleasure doing business with you."
"Good. Pleasure doing business with you as well, Mr. Douglas."
By noon, Caleb had laid the foundation.
The venture had started. The stall would come next. With suppliers locked, and Jasper ready to be the face of the operation, Caleb had all the tools he needed. Now all that was left was just execution, hiring carpenters to build the stall for him.
For the carpenters or builders Caleb planned to hire, he was confident he could find them later that night at the saloon. It was poker night, after all, and many of the local craftsmen were known to gather there to watch or join the game.
Some were even regulars who had lost to him in the past. With that thought in mind, Caleb decided to head back to his hotel room and rest. He had spent all morning and noon laying the foundation of his fast food venture, and he needed his strength for the tournament tonight.
When he arrived at his room, he took off his boots and hat, stretched his arms wide, and sank into the bed with a long exhale. The room was quiet, the late afternoon light casting a warm glow on the floorboards. Caleb drifted into sleep quickly, his body grateful for the reprieve.
When he awoke, the sun had dipped toward the horizon, bathing Valentine in hues of gold and orange. The day had begun to settle, and the buzz of evening life was rising in the streets below.
Caleb got up, rolling his shoulders to work out the stiffness, then retrieved his Vaquero Outfit from his inventory, a dark buttoned vest, a finely stitched white shirt, charcoal trousers with silver lined cuffs, a scarlet sash around his waist, and boots polished to a dark gleam. He looked sharp, confident, the picture of a man with a purpose.
He straightened his hat in the mirror, gave himself a satisfied nod, The man staring back looked sharper somehow, more purposeful.
"Let's make some money."
After that, he stepped out of his room and down the hotel stairs, boots clicking against wood as he made his way toward the saloon.
When Caleb reached the front of the saloon, he found it jam packed with patrons. Even the porch was full, men and women alike with mugs of beer and whiskey in hand, laughter spilling from their lips.
A few working girls were already seated on laps to standing close, giggling and clinking glasses with cowboys and ranch hands. As soon as they saw him, a wave of cheers erupted.
"Well, look who decided to finally show!" shouted a grizzled prospector, raising his beer.
"Caleb! There he is!"
"The man of the hour!"
"Got my money on you again, boy!"
"Show 'em how it's done, Thorne!"
Caleb smiled and tipped his hat to them, walking confidently up the steps. He gave nods and quick greetings, even earning a playful kiss on the cheek from one of the bolder girls.
"Save your hollering for when I've got their money in my pocket." The crowd laughed, parting to let him through, where he then pushed open the batwing doors and stepped inside.
The interior was alive with the hum of piano music and the loud bustle of the crowd. Heat was released from inside, then smoke hung in the air, thick with the smell of sweat, bourbon, and perfume. The saloon was a hive of energy tonight. As he passed through the packed crowd, more cheers and calls came his way.
"Caleb's here! We can start soon!"
"You takin' bets again, Thorne?"
"Don't clean us out too bad this time!"
Caleb merely grinned, his eyes scanning the crowd before heading toward the bar. As Caleb wove through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces, Old Bob from the butcher stall, a few ranch hands he'd gambled with before, even the town's blacksmith, who raised a tankard in salute.
As he reached the bar, behind the counter, stood Mr. Douglas, wiping down a glass and looking up just in time to see him approach.
"Finally," Mr. Douglas said, a wide grin spreading on his weathered face. "Look what the cat dragged in."
"Evenin', Mr. Douglas."
Mr. Douglas grabbed a clean glass, pulled out a bottle of fine whiskey, and poured Caleb a drink. "On the house. For the star of the show."
Caleb took the glass with a nod of thanks and downed it in one smooth gulp. The burn of the liquor traced fire down his throat.
"Damn good stuff, Appreciate it," Caleb said, setting the glass down.
"Only the best for our main attraction tonight," Mr. Douglas said with a wink.
Caleb leaned against the bar and lowered his voice slightly. "Wanted to run an idea by you. Thinking of changing things up tonight. Three rounds. Whoever plays in the first round and loses? They're out. No coming back."
Douglas raised an eyebrow. "Three rounds, huh?"
Caleb nodded. "New players each round. Anyone who has already played doesn't get back in. Keep things fresh. Give more folks a shot. But it also adds tension. Losers can't try their luck twice."
Douglas was quiet for a moment. Then he snorted and laughed. "You're evil son of a bitch, Caleb. That ain't a rule. That's bait. You know damn well folks'll think you're gonna be tired by the second or third game. They'll think your chances of losing get higher."
Caleb chuckled. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just bored. Either way, money's a big bonus."
They both laughed and clinked imaginary glasses.
Douglas leaned in and said, "Well, you go on and make the announcement. Let 'em know what they're in for. This is your show, after all."
Caleb turned and faced the bustling saloon, where the energy had grown electric with anticipation. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the bar counter which was at the center of the room that let him rise above the crowd.
He raised a hand, and slowly, the piano player tapered off. Voices quieted, one by one, until the saloon was attentive.
"Ladies and gents," Caleb called, his voice confident and smooth, "I've got a small change to tonight's poker tournament. Three rounds instead of one."
A few surprised murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"But there's a twist," he continued. "You lose a round? You're out. No second chances. If you think I'm gonna be tired after playin' all night, well... maybe that's your lucky break. Or maybe it ain't."
Laughter, whoops, and cheers rang out across the room.
"Sign up starts in five minutes. Buy in's 25 dollars per round. The first round begins when the list is full. Let's have ourselves a night, folks!"
The crowd erupted in applause and shouts. Drinks were raised. Dollar bills were placed onto the tabletops. The room was lit with a feverish energy.
"Deal me in!"
"I'm in!"
"Three rounds of losing my shirt? Sign me up!"
The rush to the sign up sheet was nearly a stampede. Caleb stepped from the bar counter after that was done.
"You really know how to stir the pot," Mr. Douglas said, eyes gleaming.
"That's the idea."
And in the back of Caleb's mind, the rest of his plan ticked along. Once the tournament was over and the winnings counted, he'd speak to the carpenters, several of whom he spotted already in the saloon.
The men who built barns and porches by day gambled by night, and Caleb had every intention of making them part of his business by tomorrow morning.
But first... he had some cards to play.
And so, with the crowd still cheering and energy high, Caleb took his seat at the poker table for the first round. The list was full, six players total, including himself, and each buy in was 25 dollars, making the pot a clean 150 dollars.
Mr. Douglas, as always, acted as the overseer and informal pit boss, standing nearby with a stern eye. No one dared cheat under his watch.
Caleb rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. Time to work.
Utilizing his Poker skill (Level 3) and his sharp perception (8/10), Caleb didn't rush to dominate. He let the others test each other first, keeping a low profile while studying each player's habits.
Finger taps. Nervous gulps. Even how they stacked their chips. Once he got a read on them, he began manipulating the pot, baiting bets, folding at times he knew he'd win, only to raise harder when the pot swelled with greed.
One by one, the other five fell. Some walked away grumbling, others with forced laughter, but all of them lighter in the pocket. By the final hand, Caleb played it cool, revealing a modest flush against a two pair. Applause rang out as he collected the pot, 569 dollars and 37 cents, including side bets.
Cheers erupted from the crowd, especially those who had put money on him to win. The saloon roared with laughter, backslaps, and raised drinks, while the losers simply groaned or shook their heads in disbelief.
But Caleb wasn't done yet.
"Second round!" he declared, rising and waving toward the signup sheet.
Another list filled within minutes. More players, more stakes. Again, six seats were taken. This time, a few familiar faces were replaced with unfamiliar ones, some with quiet eyes and serious faces.
Caleb could tell immediately that some of these men weren't here for show. A few of them had watched the entire first round silently, now stepping into the light.
Caleb sat, poker face firmly in place.
This round was trickier. He had to adapt more often, bluffing when needed, and acting careless when he sensed someone trying to read him. He even lost a hand early, just to throw off a particularly sharp opponent. It worked. They grew overconfident, and Caleb struck hard three rounds later.
It took longer, but he secured victory again. The pot this time was 547 dollars and 56 cents.
Another round of cheers. A few hats were thrown in the air. Some patrons began calling Caleb the "Poker King of Valentine," while others muttered that he had to be cheating, though no one could ever point to when or how.
By now, the saloon was practically vibrating with anticipation.
The third round began.
Caleb leaned back against the chair, scanning the new lineup. These men were no amateurs. He recognized them like that due to their body language and aura when they sit at the table.
There's a traveling gambler named Curtis with a snake oil smile, a half Mexican dealer who rarely spoke, and a former riverboat man who had been counting cards in his head the moment he sat down.
These weren't just players. They were professionals.
And they'd been watching him.
Caleb adjusted his playstyle. This wasn't about theatrics now. He switched from baiting to sharp, cold math. Calculated raises. Conservative calls. Well timed bluffs. The table felt like a battlefield, and every card was a bullet.
Tension gripped the air tighter than a noose.
One by one, he cut through them. Not without struggle. Not without sweat.
But finally, after two hours, Curtis folded on a massive hand, a failed bluff, and Caleb laid down his full house.
"Son of a bitch," Curtis muttered, grinning as he slid back his chair.
Caleb collected the third pot 589 dollars and 21 cents.
Just as the coins clinked into his hand, a familiar chime rang in his ears.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: [Poker] Skill has increased. → Lvl 4
Caleb couldn't help but grin. Not only had he won all three rounds, but the final challenge had pushed his abilities to the next level.
In total, his winnings that night amounted to $1,706 dollars and 14 cents. A staggering haul. But it came with risks. People might start thinking he was a cheat or worse. He stood up, raised his arms, and shouted over the din, "Drinks on me, folks! Everyone gets a round!"
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 3) → (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
Money: 2,198 dollars and 1 cents
Inventory: 1436 dollars, 2 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets
Bank: -