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Mr. Worth let out a dry chuckle. "You're lucky you're young, Caleb. People forgive forgetfulness when it comes from enthusiasm and spirit. Alright, I'll keep your name outta it. Jasper's stall, got it."
"Thank you, Mr. Worth."
The saloon was lively, even midday. Mr. Douglas stood behind the bar, polishing a glass when he saw Caleb come in.
"You here for a drink or poker or both?" Mr. Douglas called with a grin.
"Neither, today. Just a word."
Mr. Douglas set the glass down. "Speak it then."
"I need you to keep quiet about me bein' the one behind the my food stall business. Say it's Jasper."
Mr. Douglas raised an eyebrow. "You're leanin' into becoming some sort of behind the scene ownership, huh?"
Caleb leaned on the bar. "Cornwall's still out there, bitter as ever. I figure better to keep the profile low."
"And you're just rememberin' to ask this now?"
"Yeah," Caleb said, grinning sheepishly. "Got a little carried away with the build."
Mr. Douglas chuckled. "You're like a colt in spring. Fine. I'll tell folks Jasper's behind it."
"Appreciate it, Mr. Douglas. You'll still get your cut of the liquor we recommend to my clients."
"And I'll drink to that."
Next was Doc Calloway's office, where inside it was clean and quiet. The older man was scribbling something in his ledger when Caleb knocked on the doorframe.
"Doctor. Got a moment?"
Doc Calloway looked up. "Always. What's on your mind, Caleb?"
"Got a little odd favor to ask. It's about my food stall. I'd like it if you'd keep my involvement as the owner under wraps. Say it's Jasper's, not mine."
Calloway leaned back in his chair. "Ah. It's about Cornwall huh?"
Caleb nodded. "Word travels fast and I ain't lookin' to make it travel faster. Don't want him to start causing trouble for my business."
The doctor pursed his lips. "Strange you didn't ask this when we struck the original deal."
Caleb smiled. "Guess I got caught up in the thrill of buildin' something new. Slipped my mind."
Doc Calloway smiled faintly. "You're young. It happens. I'll say Jasper's runnin' the place."
"Thank you, Doc. Means a lot."
With all four spoken to and agreements made, Caleb made his way slowly back toward the stall. He passed familiar faces along the way, some giving him nods, others whispering about the morning duel.
Word spread fast in a small town, and it was clear his name was still hot on tongues. That only made him more certain he'd done the right thing by deflecting attention from his latest venture.
When he reached the stall, the sun was beginning its slow descent. He leaned on the counter and took a deep breath.
The build was complete. The network in place. And secrecy maintained. Sun haven't gone down yet, means he have time to begin buy tools and supplies at the general store, and also search for trusted people to become his employee, helping Jasper to man the stall, serve the food, and even help cooking.
Caleb stretched his arms as he stepped away from the stall, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension that had built during the long day of hammering, lifting, overseeing the completion of what was now a proper food stall, and also walking around town here and there.
The sun was sliding low in the sky but hadn't disappeared just yet, there was still time left to get some things done. And Caleb knew exactly where to go next.
He made his way down the now-familiar path to the general store, boots thudding lightly on packed dirt as he passed by a few townsfolk who greeted him with passing nods or whispers. He tipped his hat in return but kept his pace steady. The bell above the door jingled as he pushed the door open.
Inside, Mr. Worth was rearranging a few canned goods on a side shelf. When he turned and saw Caleb walk in again, he let out a sigh with exaggerated exasperation.
"Back so soon? What favor did you forget to ask this time?" Mr. Worth muttered, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.
Caleb chuckled, stepping further inside. "Nah, not a favor this time. I'm here as a buyer. Need supplies for the stall."
At that, Mr. Worth's demeanor shifted like flipping a switch so fast, that Caleb nearly stumbled. The man's eyes lit up, spine straightened, and a businessman's smile spread across his face like a gunslinger drawing at high noon.
"Well now, that's music to my ears," Mr. Worth said, his voice rich with renewed energy. "Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you this fine afternoon, Mr. Thorne?"
Caleb smirked, shaking his head. "That the fastest I ever seen a man's face change."
Mr. Worth kept smiling. "Business is business. Friendship is friendship." He said without missing a beat, hands clasped eagerly. "Now, what'll it be?"
"Damn right," Caleb muttered with a grin. He leaned forward on the counter. "Alright, here's what I need, two more large cauldrons, two cooking pots, two full sacks of potatoes, fifty bread rolls, a hundred wooden bowls, and a hundred wooden plates. That last one... well, only if you got that many."
Mr. Worth's eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly. "A hundred?" He tugged at his collar. "That's quite the order. Especially those bowls and plates. Gimme a second, I'll have to check on those. Might not have that many in stock."
"That's fine. Just let me know what you do have."
Mr. Worth nodded, already turning toward the back. "Jasper! Come out here, boy!"
A few moments later, Jasper emerged from the storeroom, apron dusty with flour and sawdust, a towel tossed over his shoulder. When he saw Caleb, his face lit up.
"Caleb! Good to see ya again!"
"You too, Jasper."
Mr. Worth cleared his throat. "Help me check how many wooden bowls and plates we got in stock. Big order."
Jasper blinked, surprised. "Who the hell needs that many?"
Mr. Worth simply pointed toward Caleb.
Jasper turned to him. "Oh, it's for the food stall, huh?"
Caleb nodded. "Yep. Things are movin' quick now. Gonna need 'em for the grand openin'."
"Makes sense. Alright, let's go check."
The two disappeared into the storeroom, leaving Caleb to wander the front shelves. He picked up a tin of tobacco and examined it, then a small jar of pepper before setting it down again.
After about ten minutes, the storeroom door swung open, and the pair reemerged.
Mr. Worth scratched his head. "Your luck ain't great today, Caleb. We only got fifty bowls and sixty five plates in stock."
Caleb shrugged. "That'll do for now. The rest can come later. What's the total cost?"
Mr. Worth walked behind the counter and started scribbling numbers. "Alright, two large cauldrons, two cooking pots, two sacks of potatoes, fifty bread rolls, fifty bowls, sixty five plates... that'll run you about 156 dollars. No discount today, sorry."
"Wasn't expectin' one," Caleb replied, already reaching into his satchel or more accurately, accessing his Inventory System. He withdrew 156 dollars in neat bills and placed them on the counter.
Mr. Worth took the money and gave a nod of satisfaction. "Much appreciated. You want to take the goods now, or leave 'em stored here till tomorrow?"
"Store 'em here for now. When everything's ready tomorrow, I'll come collect."
"Fair enough. We'll have 'em packed up and ready for you in the mornin'."
Jasper gave Caleb a thumbs up. "Congrats again on the stall. That thing looks real fine."
"Thanks, Jasper. Gonna need some help soon, too. Might put up some offers for hired hands."
"You know anyone you trust, I'd start there," Jasper said. "Don't want some drunkard makin' a mess at the counter."
"Ain't that the truth," Caleb said with a smirk.
He gave them a final nod and exited the general store, the sun now grazing the horizon in full golden glory. As he walked back toward the stall once more, his boots kicking up small clouds of dust, Caleb knew tomorrow would mark the true beginning.
Everything was almost ready. The structure was up, the supplies were bought, and the network of secrecy was stitched tight.
Now came the final hurdle, finding the right people. And in this town, trust was a rare currency. But Caleb had a good eye, and he planned to spend that currency wisely.
But that was something to think about tomorrow.
Today, Caleb had pushed himself to the brink. Between the duel, making deals all over town, supervising the final touches on the food stall, and buying up a mountain of supplies, he could feel the strain in every muscle and joint.
His legs ached. His arms throbbed. Even his fingers, still stiff from hammering and lifting, twitched slightly when he flexed them.
Caleb returned to the hotel as dusk blanketed Valentine. The streets glowed orange beneath the setting sun, and the quiet murmur of evening life rolled gently through town. The bell above the hotel door chimed as he stepped inside. The clerk barely looked up, but offered a nod of greeting.
"Long day?" the clerk asked.
"Feels like I've lived three lives since mornin'," Caleb replied with a tired smile.
He climbed the stairs to his room and pushed open the door. The bed, still neatly made, was like a siren's call.
He collapsed onto it, boots still on, and let out a long breath. The softness of the mattress enveloped him. It didn't take long for sleep to pull him under.
The next morning, sunlight streamed in through the window, cutting across the room in golden bars. Caleb groaned softly as he rolled onto his side. Every muscle in his body screamed. It wasn't pain exactly, more like the deep soreness that came from days of unrelenting labor.
"Oof..." he muttered. "Alright. Definitely not doin' any heavy liftin' today."
Even with his strong body attributes and decent stamina, he wasn't made of iron. High stats didn't make a man invincible. Not yet anyway.
He dressed slowly, wincing every time he bent a joint or stretched a limb, then headed downstairs.
At the counter, the clerk greeted him with a quick nod.
"Hot bath?"
"Yeah. Real hot."
"25 cents."
Caleb reached into his pocket, fished out a coin, and slid it across.
Moments later, he was soaking in steaming water, leaning back in the tub with his eyes half closed. The heat seeped into his bones, easing the soreness with every passing minute.
He scrubbed the grime from his arms and hands, washed away sweat and dust from his hair and neck, and let himself simply exist for a while.
Here, in this rare moment of peace.
When he was done, he dried off, got dressed again, and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, refreshing, and for once he didn't feel the weight of the entire world resting on his shoulders.
Today would be different. Today wasn't about building or fighting or organizing. Today was about finding the right people. And Caleb already had someone in mind.
Mickey.
The man was an odd sort, known to mumble to himself and drift from one alley or corner to another. He claimed to be a veteran of the Civil War, though anyone who talked to him long enough knew his story didn't always line up. Whether he actually served or not, Mickey was harmless. Lonely, but never dangerous.
And more than anything, Caleb knew Mickey wanted to be seen. Remembered. Useful.
In the game, Caleb remembered how Arthur could show him kindness, and how Mickey remembered it. Even years later, if John visited, Mickey would still talk about Arthur being a good man. That kind of loyalty couldn't be bought. But it could be earned. Caleb walked through the center of town, eyes scanning side alleys and shaded corners.
...
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 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 (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
Money: 563 dollars and 75 cents
Inventory: 2,295 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: -