He searched ten people one by one but found no clues.
"Store the firearms and take them to the valley to be dumped," Henry ordered Luke before leaving the police station.
With another 1,000 us dollar bounty income, Henry was in a good mood as he went to Phoenix Bar with Pete for dinner.
Luke and Maddie obediently complied, leaving Lawrence on duty.
Now, in their eyes, Henry was almost like a god.
Following such a powerful Sheriff, their future was bright, and their safety greatly increased.
Pete was four years older than Henry and had just recently married.
The moment the two pushed open the narrow double-leaf louvered doors and stepped into the saloon, the entire saloon seemed to be put on pause.
Only a second later did a greater clamor erupt.
The people inside enthusiastically greeted Henry.
"Henry, your gun-slinging posture yesterday was awesome!"
"Henry, over here, we have excellent whiskey."
"Henry, I heard you just dealt with 10 more assassins?"
Henry greeted them one by one; most were acquaintances, and his original body used this place as a canteen.
All police officers received a 60% discount on food and a 30% discount on drinks here.
The bar owner, Drummond, was of Scotland descent, so the whiskey was very authentic.
Furthermore, since this was a gold-mining town, most townspeople could afford good liquor, so there was less fake alcohol here.
Selling fake alcohol in Fresco Town could lead to expulsion if caught.
The saloon was three stories high.
The first floor was a hall of about 300 square meters, with more than fifty sets of log tables and chairs scattered about.
A pool table was in one corner.
In another corner was a standard boxing ring—5.49 meters (18 feet) long and 4.88 meters (16 feet) wide.
The second floor had guest rooms and card rooms.
The third floor had guest rooms.
Of course, card games could also be played in the first-floor hall.
The four bars in Fresco Town also operated as restaurants and inns.
Unless they were bar girls or women with a bad reputation, normal women would not appear in bars.
However, the bar girls employed in these Western bars rarely "went out"—except in some of the lowest-class bars.
They would only sing and dance with lonely male customers, at most flirting a little.
Their purpose was simply to encourage more people to come, drink more, or play a few hands of cards, so they would spend more money, and the girls themselves could have a couple more drinks.
Bar girls received a commission on the drinks consumed at the tables they served.
Of course, if they hit it off, anything was possible.
However, it was almost impossible for it to be free.
Henry and Pete found a window seat and sat down.
Streisand, a blonde waitress with a hot figure but average looks, walked over, first giving Henry a big flirtatious wink, and said, "Handsome Sheriff Henry, what are you having today?"
"Two portions of venison steak, two portions of beef steak, three pounds of bread, and two portions of any vegetables you have," Henry rattled off the order expertly.
Streisand quickly jotted down the order and asked, "What would you like to drink?"
"Two whiskies, Pete, it's your turn to order, my treat," Henry said.
"That's enough," Pete shrugged.
Henry smiled and said, "What I just ordered is all for myself."
"What?" Pete's eyes widened like lanterns.
Streisand also widened her big, watery eyes in surprise.
A portion of beef steak and venison steak here weighed one pound, which is about 0.91 jin.
Since his body leveled up to LV3, Henry found his appetite had more than doubled.
Four pounds of meat per meal was 3.64 jin of meat, plus 2.73 jin of bread!
The small amount of steak he ate at Linda's at noon was not enough at all; Henry had to take out a lot of dry rations from his space to barely feel half full.
Streisand smiled charmingly and said in a teasing voice, "You can only be capable if you can eat! No wonder you're so amazing, Henry."
Henry spread his hands and stated confidently, "Of course I am."
Unfortunately, Streisand's looks were quite ordinary, not a suitable target for Henry to try out his new talent, so he didn't bother to flirt.
Pete said, "I'll have a beef steak, a glass of milk, a pound of bread, and another glass of bourbon."
Streisand quickly took the order and walked away, swaying her sexy big bottom gracefully.
Pete couldn't help but stare for a few moments.
"Pete, you need to think carefully about how to please me, so Mary won't know how you're acting right now," Henry chuckled.
Pete finally sobered up, his face flushed red.
"You wouldn't. By the way, how did your marksmanship become so good now?"
Seeing him forcefully change the subject, Henry didn't press further and said, "I just didn't want to show it before. Yesterday, I had no choice; more than forty people ambushed us. It's a pity Brian was too far from me, so I couldn't save him in time."
Pete's eyes instantly reddened, and he was speechless.
Brian had indeed been very good to him; even his wife Mary was married after Brian personally went to a farmer's place to arrange the match.
"Brian personally killed nearly thirty enemies. You don't need to be too sad for him. This is the West. You need to practice your marksmanship to protect your wife and future children."
"Yes, I will," Pete nodded.
"Slap!" A crisp slapping sound suddenly came from upstairs.
"You b*tch, how dare you secretly reveal my hand?" A crude voice rang out.
"I didn't," a choked female voice tried to deny.
"Slap!" Another loud slap.
"You b*tch, do you believe I'll shoot you dead!" The man persisted.
The crowd downstairs turned their heads to look at the stairs.
Most bar girls received good treatment, as in a place with such a large gender imbalance, every woman could earn male respect.
At the same time, bar owners and the girls themselves would have such expectations.
If someone insulted a girl in the bar, they might pay the price of being expelled or even killed.
"Come down, you too. I want to see what the bar owner has to say." A grumbling voice indicated the person was coming downstairs.
Soon, a burly white man with light brown shoulder-length hair, at least 1.9 meters tall, dragged a bar girl with a red and swollen face down the stairs, appearing before everyone's eyes.
Behind him followed a gaunt, tall, grim-faced middle-aged white cowboy with a knife-like face.
"Where's the boss?" the burly white man shouted.
Danger!
'In a blink of an eye, the burly white man will draw his pistol and shoot me, and so will the knife-faced man! Two experts!'
Henry instantly drew the two Colt 1878 revolvers from his waist and immediately raised his arms to shoot at the two.
Because he was sitting, the height was off, and there were tables and chairs blocking him, so Henry's shooting this time was much slower, perhaps 0.1 seconds, but it was enough.
"Bang bang!"
0.3 seconds is the blink of an eye for an ordinary person, but unfortunately, the two quick-draw gunmen would never be able to seize this opportunity.
As soon as they drew their pistols from their holsters, they both took a bullet to the eyebrow and fell to the ground weakly.
The echoes of the gunshots had not yet dissipated.
'Four more!'
Henry held a gun in each hand, spitting fire simultaneously to both sides.
"Bang bang bang bang!"
Four men at two dining tables, eight or nine meters apart on either side, fell backward, their pistols clattering to the floor.
Warning cleared.