If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
...
Caleb leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Well, sounds temptin'. But if it's as exclusive as you say, I reckon the entry fee ain't cheap."
Both men laughed, exchanging a glance. Franklin shook his head. "You're right about that. If you can't secure an invitation, the buy in's steep. But that's the beauty of it, you don't pay your way in, you earn it. Word gets around quick in Saint Denis. A few more nights like tonight, and folks'll start talkin' about you. Enough buzz, and you'll have an invite delivered right to your table."
Caleb tilted his head, pretending to weigh it. "So all I gotta do is make a name for myself at the tables, huh?"
"Exactly," Louis said with a smile that was equal parts charm and mischief. "Saint Denis loves a rising star. You play like that again, and you'll be the talk of every parlor and poker room in the city."
Franklin said with a grin. "You make a name for yourself. Win big, stay consistent, and people start talkin'. It won't be long before one of Bronte's associates or one of the Korrigan's hosts notices you."
At that, Caleb's eyes sharpened ever so slightly. "Bronte, huh? So he's tied to the riverboat too?"
Louis leaned back with a smirk. "Who else could manage something of that scale in this city? The Korrigan's his show, through and through. The finest tables, the richest guests, all under his control."
Caleb nodded slowly. "Makes sense. A man like him would want to keep the best cards close to his chest."
He keep a faint smile on his face, though his mind was already racing. The Grand Korrigan. It hadn't happened yet, which meant this was his chance to steer things differently. He could use this. Get close, gather intel, maybe even stop Dutch before he dragged them all into that mess.
He leaned forward, fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Well, gentlemen, that's quite the offer. Appreciate you bringin' it my way."
Franklin raised his glass. "To luck and opportunity, then."
Caleb clinked his bottle gently against Franklin's. "To both."
Ezra returned just in time with his meal, the aroma of butter and garlic from the Lobster Bisque mixing with the rich scent of seared Prime Rib. "Here we are, lobster bisque, prime rib, hot bread, and your fixin's" he said, setting the plates down and said with a smile. "Enjoy, gentlemen."
"Thank you, Ezra," Caleb said, giving a nod as the bartender returned to his counter.
The two patrons rose from their seats, straightening their jackets. "We'll leave you to your meal, Mister McLaughlin," Hawley said. "But mark our words,you keep playin' like you did tonight, and you'll have that invitation before long."
"Appreciate the tip," Caleb said, raising his beer slightly in farewell.
The two wealthy patrons then departed after saying that, satisfied they'd planted the seed. Caleb watched them go, then turned his attention back to his meal. He took a slow bite of the steak, tender, perfectly seasoned, but his mind wasn't on the food.
He was thinking about the boat. About how he might use it to his advantage this time. When the meal was finished and the saloon began to thin, he leaned back, wiped his hands, and decided to check his system before heading back to his rented room for the night.
Caleb slept that night like he hadn't in months. The bed was softer than anything he'd laid on since coming to this world, a true Saint Denis luxury. The mattress cradled his sore muscles perfectly, the pillow felt like clouds against his head, and for the first time in weeks, there was no distant sound of crickets, gunfire, or restless horses. Just the faint hum of the city outside and the rhythm of his own breathing.
He drifted off easily, thoughts of the Grand Korrigan slowly fading into the haze of dreams. The night passed quietly, and when he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the shutters, painting golden stripes across the room. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the morning light, before stretching with a deep groan of satisfaction.
"Damn," he muttered with a faint smile, rolling his shoulders. "Now that's a bed."
He sat up and rubbed his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. Every muscle in his body felt rested and light, every ache gone, which was a rare feeling.
After taking a deep breath, Caleb got up and began his morning routine. He started with some simple calisthenics, a few stretches, shoulder rolls, and light squats to get his blood moving. Then came the sit ups and push ups, the steady rhythm of breath and muscle grounding him the way it always did.
The wooden floor creaked slightly under his palms as he counted out fifty clean reps, then another fifty sit ups for good measure. By the time he finished, sweat glistened faintly on his forehead, and he felt properly alive again.
"Alright," he said to himself quietly, grabbing a towel to wipe down. "Time to start the day."
He put on his McLaughlin outfit and make sure it was neat. Once ready, he stepped out of his room and headed downstairs.
The saloon was quieter in the morning, just a few early patrons scattered about. The smell of whiskey and stale tobacco lingered, but mixed with it now was the aroma of fresh bread and coffee from the kitchen.
Behind the bar wasn't Ezra this time as maybe it wasn't his shift tdoay, but a younger man, another black bartender, no older than his mid twenties, with neatly trimmed hair and a calm, professional air about him.
Caleb gave a polite nod but didn't make conversation. He wasn't the kind to pry unless there was reason. He walked up to the counter, reached into his pocket, and placed 50 cents neatly on the wood.
"Morning," he said evenly. "Wouldn't mind a hot bath if one's available."
The young bartender glanced up, his eyes warm but businesslike. "Sure thing, sir. That'll do. I'll have the bathwater heated and ready in a few minutes. You want anythin' to drink while you wait?"
Caleb chuckled lightly. "Why not. A good morning deserves a good start." He placed a dollar bill next to the coins. "Glass of whiskey'll do."
"Right away."
The bartender poured the whiskey into a clean glass, the amber liquid catching the light like gold. Caleb nodded in thanks, took a sip, and leaned one elbow on the counter while the bartender stepped away to make arrangements for the bath.
The whiskey burned smooth and warm down his throat, waking him fully. He stared absently at the rows of bottles behind the counter as his mind wandered. Alright… itinerary for today.
First order of business, sell the trinkets and valuables to the Saint Denis fence. He'd accumulated quite a bit from his ventures, and with the upgraded system inventory, he had more space than ever to keep it safe but why keep it if he can turned them into cash.
Next, a visit to the clothing store, get himself couple of something more fitting for the city, and maybe a fancy dress for Mary-Beth. She'd been good to him, and she deserved a little luxury for once. Then finally, the gun store, Kuo Chao & Co., one of the best in the city. He'd replace his old Lancaster Repeater, maybe with a Litchfield. The Lancaster had served him well, modified and reliable, but times were changing. A better rifle meant a better edge, and Caleb never turned down an advantage.
He glanced down at the whiskey glass, swirling what remained at the bottom. He already had his two Navy Revolver, fully upgraded and still as powerful as ever, no need to swap that out. Maybe buy a pistol or two for collection, new firepower, just because, and just in case.
Before he could think any further, the bartender returned. "Bath's ready for you upstairs, sir," he said politely.
Caleb smiled faintly. "Appreciate it."
He downed the rest of his whiskey, left the empty glass on the counter, and made his way back up the stairs.
The bathhouse was well kept, polished copper fixtures, a deep porcelain tub, and fresh linens folded neatly nearby. Steam filled the room, the scent of lavender soap in the air. Caleb stripped off his clothes, folded them neatly aside, and stepped into the tub.
The hot water enveloped him instantly, and he let out a low sigh. "Now this," he murmured, "is somethin' I could get used to."
He washed away the grime and sweat of the past days, taking his time to scrub clean and let his muscles loosen under the heat. Every ache seemed to melt away.
When he finished, he dried off, got dressed again, and headed downstairs. The young bartender gave him a polite nod as he passed. Caleb returned it but didn't linger.
Outside, the Saint Denis morning was alive with sound, carriage wheels clattering over cobblestone, merchants calling out prices, the distant whistle of a train somewhere to the north. The air smelled faintly of smoke, salt, and perfume all at once, a city's breath.
Tied up by the saloon's front post was Morgan, pawing at the ground impatiently.
"Hey there, girl," Caleb said softly as he approached, patting her neck. Morgan let out a pleased snort, nuzzling against his hand. "Miss me, huh? Let's get movin', then. Got business to take care of."
He mounted up smoothly, took one last glance around, then guided her down the main road. The streets were busy even this early, fine dressed men with top hats, women in elaborate gowns, street vendors shouting about fresh fruit, and the occasional newspaper boy weaving through the crowd.
With his Past Life Memory Skill, Caleb recalled Saint Denis's layout easily. Combined with his map function, navigating the city was effortless. He guided Morgan eastward through the polished streets, past the grand façades of mansions and theaters, until the scenery slowly shifted.
The cobblestone gave way to narrower lanes, the air filled more with market chatter than refined conversation. Middle class apartments, homes, shops, and vendors began to line the streets. Eventually, the familiar scent of produce and spice filled the air, the Saint Denis market.
Caleb dismounted, hitching Morgan to a nearby post. "Won't be long, girl," he said, giving her a reassuring pat before turning toward the bustling crowd.
The market was a lively chaos, stalls selling vegetables, fruits, meats, baked goods, and exotic imports. Vendors shouted over one another, bartering, laughing, calling out deals. Caleb slipped through the flow of people, his eyes scanning everything.
For the first time since arriving in Saint Denisnand this world, he spotted a few Chinese merchants speaking in their native tongue with Chinese customers looking like they were haggling, their presence a reminder of how diverse the city truly was.
He weaved past them, careful not to draw attention, until he reached a small, less noticeable storefront tucked between a tailor and a spice shop. The sign above read Antique Curios & Rarities, though anyone who knew the underbelly of the city recognized it for what it really was, the local fence.
Caleb pushed open the creaking door, the small brass bell jingling overhead. The shop's interior was dim but organized, shelves lined with old trinkets, clocks, and jewelry, all serving as camouflage for the more illicit business beneath.
He walked toward the counter, taking the short steps down into the lower section of the store. Behind the counter stood a middle aged man with thinning hair and a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Well, good morning, sir," the man greeted, his voice smooth but cautious. "What can I help you with today?"
Caleb smiled back, setting his hands casually on the counter. "Got some items I'd like to sell. Trinkets, mostly. Valuables too."
The fence's expression brightened at once. "Of course, of course. Always happy to do business. Let's have a look, shall we?"
Caleb nodded and reached into his satchel, though in truth, he was pulling the items directly from his system inventory, careful to make it look natural. One by one, he laid them on the counter. twelve silver rings, two large bags of assorted jewelry, five gold rings, six silver pocket watches, three silver buckles, three gold buckles, one gold pocket compass, and two platinum pocket watches.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 2)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 1)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 3)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
Money: 2,144 dollars and 96 cents
Inventory: 104,021 dollars and 22 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 58 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 5 gold rings, 5 silver rings, 6 silver pocket watches, 3 silver buckles, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, 2 Colm's Schofields, and land deed (Parcel)
Bank: -