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Survival odds just tilted further in his favor and Caleb knew damn well in this world, favor didn't come cheap. Business was dead for about an hour. Nobody wanted to eat burgers while ten corpses were being hauled off Main Street. Caleb didn't mind. Gave him time to think, plan, and let the tension bleed out of his crew.
The crew finally sagged with exhaustion as Caleb flipped the sign to CLOSED and closed the counter from the outside. He looked up, and saw that the moon was climbing high, silver light washing over the dirt streets.
The bloodstains on Main were gone now, scrubbed clean by the Sheriff's men, but the memory of what happened still clung to the night like a stubborn shadow before he then returned back inside.
Inside the stall, the warm glow of lantern light cast long, soft shadows across the worn wood. Caleb stood behind the counter, arms folded now, watching his crew slump into seats or lean against the walls.
Nobody spoke at first. The only sounds were the faint hiss of cooling iron and the distant howl of a coyote beyond town.
Then Jessie, voice quiet but steady, broke the silence. "Caleb," she said, looking at him with wide, searching eyes. "What… what are you?"
Caleb's gaze lingered on her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled, small, cold, and unreadable.
"Just a man," he said finally. "A man who ain't about to let nobody take what's his, Jessie."
The silence after Caleb's words lingered in the stall, hanging heavier than the smell of grease and smoke. Jessie's question, what was he? Still rippled in the air like an unsettled ghost, even if Caleb had already answered it in his own way.
Jasper leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, eyes fixed on Caleb with something that wasn't quite awe but wasn't far from it either. His voice broke the quiet next, low and steady.
"You know, boss… I look at you a whole lot different now compared to before," Jasper said, his tone carrying the weight of someone trying to wrap his head around a revelation.
Caleb turned his head toward him, one brow raising slightly, though his expression stayed unreadable. "And why's that, Jasper? What's changed?" His voice was calm, almost curious, but with an edge of composure beneath it. "I'm the same man you met back then. Still am. My gun skills ain't the kind of thing that should change the way you see me. I ain't no different just 'cause I can shoot faster'n most."
Jasper shook his head, lips curling in a wry, almost disbelieving smile. "No, boss, you are the same man, the same one who saved me, took me in when I didn't have a place to go. I ain't forgettin' that. But you ask why my look at you has changed? 'Cause I always thought you were just a good, solid cowboy. A man with decent skill, sharp eyes, maybe a bit pragmatic about life but still… just a man."
He leaned back and exhaled slowly, still shaking his head in disbelief. "What I saw today, though? That wasn't just 'decent skills,' boss. That was somethin' else. Somethin' I ain't sure even got a word. You looked like… like a legend in the makin'. A gunslinger they'll whisper about for years in the future."
Simon and Troy, seated nearby, both gave firm nods in agreement, their eyes bright with the same memory replaying in their minds, the impossible speed, the unerring precision, the cold, methodical execution.
"Jasper's right boss," Simon added, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and respect. "I thought my eyes were playin' tricks, but no man alive could've done what you just did unless he was born for it. You didn't miss, boss. Not once. Ten men in the blink of an eye. That ain't just skill. That's… somethin' else alright."
Troy nodded vigorously, his hand unconsciously flexing as if gripping the ghost of a revolver. "Hell, boss, I still don't believe it, even though I saw it. But I'll say this, if Jasper's callin' you a legend, then I ain't gonna argue none."
Even Mickey, who hadn't been there, straightened in his chair and nodded. "I didn't see it," he admitted with his one good arm resting against his side. "But I believe it. You pulled me out of a bad place and gave me a job worth somethin', boss. If Jasper, Simon, and Troy are sayin' you're somethin' more, I ain't got no reason to doubt it. I'll stand with what they said."
Jessie didn't speak. Not at first. But her silence said plenty. Her wide eyes, the way her lips pressed together, the slight furrow in her brow, if the others had looked at her then, they would've seen she was thinking the same thing, even if she didn't dare say it aloud.
Caleb let out a soft chuckle at all of this, shaking his head as though brushing aside the weight of their words. "Well… I'll say this much, I'm honored that all of you think so highly of me. Truly, I am. But I reckon you're all layin' it on a bit thick. I ain't no legend, not yet, and maybe never. I'm just a man tryin' to hold his ground in a world that'd sooner bury him."
Jasper shook his head stubbornly. "No, boss. We ain't exaggeratin'. Not one bit." His eyes were steady now, determination burning behind them. "Matter of fact… if you'd be willin', I want you to continue teach me. Teach me to shoot like you. Maybe one day I'll get half as good, or hell, even a tenth. I wanna learn more gun skills from you."
Simon immediately chimed in, eyes lighting up. "Me too. If you're willin' to share, I'd follow every word, boss."
"And me," Troy added eagerly. "If there's even a chance we could learn from you, boss, I'd take it without thinkin' twice and would never doubt my decision."
Caleb studied the three of them for a moment, weighing their words, then gave a slow nod. He turned first to Jasper, his voice steady. "Of course I'll teach you. I've been teachin' you since the day we met, Jasper. Guns, survival, and how to keep your wits. Ain't no reason to stop now."
Jasper's face broke into a grin, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, boss. Means more than I can say."
Caleb shifted his gaze to Simon and Troy next. "As for you two, I'd be glad to teach you as well." Both of them smiled wide, their joy practically radiating as they exchanged a glance that spoke volumes.
"But," Caleb continued, his voice taking on a harder edge, "there are some conditions you two have to agree upon first."
Simon and Troy sobered quickly, nodding. "Name 'em, boss," Simon said.
"First," Caleb said, "you listen. Every word. No cuttin' corners, no arguin' when I tell you somethin' ain't right. You follow my teachin' to the letter. Second, you don't teach it to no one else. Not ever. What I give you stays with you. You break that, and we're done."
The two young men exchanged a quick glance, then nodded in unison. "We promise, boss," Troy said. "We'll listen to your teaching. And we won't pass it on to others."
Satisfied, Caleb gave them a nod and even the faintest ghost of a smile. "Good. Then tomorrow, after we help George, Seth, and Elias with the first day of renovatin' the stall into somethin' proper, we'll begin."
Jasper, Simon, and Troy erupted in thanks, their voices overlapping as their excitement filled the stall.
Caleb raised a hand to quiet them, his tone returning to its usual practical edge. "For now, let's pack up and clean. Ain't no use talkin' big on empty stomachs and tired bones."
They all moved to their tasks. Jasper handled the money, counting it carefully before tucking it into the lockbox. Caleb, Simon, and Troy pulled the tables and chairs back inside, stacking them neatly against the wall. Mickey and Jessie set to washing the wooden bowls and plates, their hands moving in a practiced rhythm.
When everything was done, they stepped outside into the cool night air. Caleb locked the counter, and Jasper pulled the stall door shut, securing it with a padlock.
Jasper distributed the day's wages, small stacks of bills and coins passed into Mickey's one good hand, Jessie's careful fingers, and the eager palms of Simon and Troy. Each one gave thanks, their tired faces showing quiet pride.
One by one, they dispersed, heading for their homes or rented rooms. Some off to the saloon, some to bed. Caleb, however, turned toward the hotel.
The night was still and quiet as he walked, the moonlight silvering the dirt street. The town had calmed, but the weight of what had happened earlier still clung like smoke. Caleb carried it with him, but not as a burden, more like an old, familiar companion.
He climbed the stairs of the hotel, boots heavy on the wooden steps, and when he reached the hall, he stopped short.
There, standing in front of his door, was Mary-Beth. She held a plate in her hands, knocking softly before glancing down at the food again.
Caleb approached quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Evenin', Mary-Beth," he greeted, voice low and gentle.
She jumped slightly, turning with wide eyes. "Lord, Caleb, you nearly scared me half to death." She let out a nervous laugh, clutching the plate closer. "I didn't expect you just yet. I've been knockin' on your door. Thought maybe you hadn't had supper. So I went and got you somethin' from the saloon. Lamb fry." She held out the plate with a shy smile. "Didn't figure you'd be back just now."
Caleb chuckled softly, taking the plate from her hands with careful ease. "You thought right. I hadn't eaten yet. Thank you, darlin'. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it." His voice was softer now, almost tender.
He reached out and brushed a hand gently across the top of her head, a simple gesture that made her cheeks flush and her smile brighten.
Mary-Beth tilted her head slightly, then leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Enjoy it, Caleb," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that lingered even as she stepped away.
She turned and walked down the hall toward her own room, her smile still lighting her face.
Caleb watched her go, his own smile gentler than most had ever seen from him. Then he unlocked his door, stepped inside, and closed it quietly behind him.
He set the plate down on the small table by the bed, pulled off his hat, and sat down heavily. The lamb fry was simple but filling, and he ate it in silence, the events of the day replaying in his mind between each bite.
When the plate was clean, he set it aside, drank deeply from his water canteen, and stretched out on the bed. His eyes drifted shut, the lantern casting its soft glow across the room. Tomorrow, the renovations would begin. But tonight, he let the weight of the day slip away into sleep, knowing the world would demand more of him soon enough.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 3)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 3)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
- Acting (Lvl 2)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,580 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 5,407 dollars and 43 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 8 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, 2 silver rings, 4 silver pocket watches, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, 2 Colm's Schofields, and land deed (Parcel)
Bank: -