In less than a second, Henry holstered both guns.
Everyone hadn't yet reacted, so there was no panic or anything like that.
"These six are assassins, all dead. Everyone stay calm," Henry said in a deep voice.
"Pete, go back to the police station, arrange a cart to haul these people back, then return for dinner."
"Alright."
Pete immediately left and walked toward the police station dozens of meters away.
"You, go call Drummond over," Henry pointed at a bar guard.
The guard nodded and quickly pushed through the door and left.
Henry approached the white giant and sharp-faced man who had fallen on the stairs and briefly searched them.
Besides twenty-six dollars in small bills and coins, plus two daggers, two Colt revolvers, and over a hundred .44 bullets, there wasn't anything special.
Henry went to check the other four assassins - similar items, all paupers, about a hundred dollars total.
Henry tossed ten dollars to the red-faced bar girl - this was their average weekly income - then gathered all the wallets and pistols together, having the bartender get a cloth bag to put them in.
Actually, he had already collected most of the bullets and all the wallets into his space.
By this time Pete had already driven the cart over. Henry called several strong men to help throw the six corpses into the cart bed.
"Pete, go back and turn this bag over to the warehouse, then come back for dinner. We'll deal with them later," Henry instructed.
"Yes, sir!" Pete jokingly gave a military salute and drove the cart back to the police station.
Drummond still hadn't arrived - who knows what he was doing.
Henry walked back to his seat and loudly urged, "Hurry up with the food!"
Everyone was now excitedly discussing among themselves. A bearded young cowboy couldn't help asking, "Sheriff, how did you know they were trouble?"
Everyone quickly quieted down - they also wanted to know this answer.
These gunmen were undoubtedly assassins - their guns were already drawn. If Henry had acted any later, who knows which unlucky soul would have been killed.
Henry smiled slightly and said lightly, "I'm the sheriff. Of course I know."
Everyone was stunned, but since Henry didn't want to explain, they had no choice.
No one dared to keep chattering and asking questions either.
Never mind that Henry was the sheriff - even if he were someone else, asking so many questions could easily get you killed on the street.
Curiosity in a tavern meant rudeness.
If you kept asking questions, dying on the street was perfectly normal.
Everyone could only discuss among themselves in low voices.
The food was quickly served, including Pete's portion. Henry ate heartily.
By the time Pete returned to the tavern, Henry had already finished his portion and felt reasonably full.
When Pete was halfway through eating, Drummond finally arrived late.
He looked to be in his forties, but his hair was already completely white. He had a good relationship with Bryan Mills and knew the original Henry, though they weren't close.
Henry let Pete eat slowly and followed Drummond up to the third floor to his office.
After the two sat down as host and guest, Drummond said, "Henry, thank you. Thanks to you being here, the bar avoided casualties today."
Henry leaned back in his chair and asked methodically, "Tell me, what's the background of these people? Why were they ambushing me?"
Drummond hesitated, noticing Henry's expressionless face, and couldn't help feeling a chill.
He suddenly realized the person across from him wasn't the ordinary officer he'd had no impression of all along, but a newly minted ruthless sheriff.
This was a killing god who had slaughtered over a hundred people in two days and had just harvested 6 more heads instantly in the bar!
"Someone on the black market has put out a ten-thousand-dollar bounty on your head!" Drummond said decisively.
"Can you find out who it was or where the bounty was first issued?"
"I don't know. The information between our bars has no source, but to claim the bounty you'd have to go to Denver's black market."
"Where is the Denver black market? How do you get in?"
"You need someone familiar to lead you, plus fifty dollars. If you don't have that, go to the Hamlet Tavern in the east of the city and pay one hundred dollars - they'll arrange someone to take you in. Everyone in the black market wears masks or face coverings."
Henry showed a gentle smile and said, "Thank you for the intelligence. How did you cooperate with Bryan Mills?"
"Besides the discounts for the police station, thirty percent of monthly net profit, about five hundred dollars."
That was six thousand dollars a year. If Bryan Mills didn't have to split it with anyone else, this bar would have provided 36,000 dollars in extra income over 6 years.
He was so devoted to Linda that he probably turned over all the money.
This amount was equivalent to about 4 million dollars in 2024 purchasing power, so Linda's family wouldn't have to worry about their livelihood.
But Bryan Mills should have shared some with the officers who actually did the work.
"What did Bryan Mills have to do?"
Drummond looked at Henry and said gravely, "Ensure the tavern wasn't damaged or had sufficient compensation after damage, ensure the tavern wasn't affected by major external factors, and could operate normally every day."
"Tell me, what business operations does the tavern have."
"Food and drink, private liquor, girls, lodging, card games, and intelligence trading."
"Intelligence trading?"
"Helping customers post buy and sell information to facilitate transactions. Sometimes we provide intelligence obtained from the black market, and even accept customer commissions to post or submit tasks to the black market through our internal tavern network."
Drummond thought for a moment and added, "We don't directly participate in these tasks - we just act as agents for posting or submitting tasks. Bryan Mills sometimes even used us to post wanted bounties."
"What if it's black market intelligence Bryan Mills needed?"
"Still have to pay the black market. Agency fees are halved because there are some costs we must pay. Agency fees depend on the intelligence value, usually 10-20%."
Henry pondered and said, "Let's continue this cooperation then, but with one condition - if there's any intelligence unfavorable to me, you must proactively tell me in time. Fees still apply."
"Alright. Today's intelligence was publicly available bounty information from the black market, so you don't need to pay intelligence fees, Henry."
"Good. My first intelligence commission is information on McKinley family members and properties, especially those in Denver and nearby areas. The more detailed the better."
"Alright, I'll provide it to you as soon as possible and we'll calculate the fees then."
"Good. I hope we'll have pleasant cooperation in the future." Henry stood up and extended his right hand.
Drummond quickly extended his right hand to shake hands with him.
Then the two went down to the first floor.