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"Not today," he muttered, lining up another shot. The Rolling Block thundered again. A Raider's leg jerked, and he toppled backward through the doorway. Another tried to rush the gun, screaming orders, but Caleb was faster. One more shot, BOOM, and the man folded over the railing, hanging limp.
Inside the yard, the last of the outside Lemoyne Raiders were beginning to fall. Arthur and John swept forward, their boots splashing through shallow puddles of mud and blood. Charles ducked low, reloading, then turned toward the porch steps.
"Go!" Arthur shouted over the gunfire. "Clear the inside!"
Charles and John didn't hesitate. They charged up the steps, breaking through the doors as the sound of close quarters gunfire erupted from within the mansion.
That left Arthur outside, holding the yard, and Caleb above as overwatch.
Caleb reloaded one last time, watching the balcony. The few Lemoyne Raiders still clinging to cover tried a desperate counterattack, firing wildly in his direction. He exhaled, aimed, and fired three quick shots in succession, the first tore through the wooden table, the second found a shoulder, and the third silenced the last man standing.
Smoke drifted lazily from the barrel of his rifle as silence began to creep back into the clearing. The front yard was a ruin of corpses, bullet casings, and broken stone.
Caleb finally lowered the rifle, his muscles burning from the steady precision shooting. He looked down toward the yard, saw Arthur still standing there among the fallen, gun drawn, scanning the horizon.
It was time to move.
Caleb slung the Rolling Block Rifle over his shoulder and drew both of his Navy revolvers. The time for precision was over, now it was time for close quarters work. He began to make his way down the slope toward the manor, his boots crunching on the gravel of the path.
It was a moment of transition, a let down of his hyper vigilant guard and high perception stats. The adrenaline was still there, but his focus had shifted from the macro battlefield to the immediate goal of joining Arthur. That split second lapse was all it took.
He never saw the movement to his side until it was too late.
A Lemoyne Raider, who had been playing dead amongst the bodies near a collapsed outbuilding, sprang up with a guttural roar. He tackled Caleb from the side, the force of the impact sending both of them crashing to the ground. Caleb's Navy revolvers were knocked from his hands, skittering away into the dirt.
The Lemoyne Raider, wild eyed and smelling of blood and sweat, immediately went for the kill, a large bowie knife flashing in the sunlight as he drove it downward toward Caleb's heart.
Caleb's hands shot up, his fingers locking around the man's wrist just inches from his chest. The sharp point of the knife grazed his shirt, nicking the fabric. The Raider, fueled by desperation, put all his weight into it.
But Caleb was stronger. His 7 out of 10 strength stat wasn't just a number, it was hardened muscle and a will to live forged in countless fights. "Not today, you bastard," Caleb growled through clenched teeth.
With a sudden surge of force, he twisted his body, overpowered the Lemoyne Raider, and shoved him aside. They rolled, Caleb breaking free long enough to reach for the knife sheathed on his belt, the old Civil War Knife, its blade darkened with age but still razor sharp.
The Lemoyne Raider scrambled to his feet, knife raised again, but Caleb was ready this time. He waited, coiled like a predator. When the Raider lunged forward, Caleb sidestepped smoothly, his knife flashing upward.
Steel met flesh.
The Lemoyne Raider gasped, and Caleb drove the blade deep into his gut, once, twice, three times, fast and brutal. The man's eyes went wide, his mouth spilling blood as he staggered back and collapsed, clutching at the gaping wounds in vain.
Caleb stood over him, chest heaving, the weight of survival heavy on his face.
He exhaled sharply and wiped the knife clean on the dead man's sleeve. Then, with deliberate calm, he sheathed the blade back at his belt and walked over to retrieve both of his Navy Revolvers. He checked each one quickly, still loaded and still reliable, before holstering them again.
"Dumb bastard," he muttered quietly. "Could've just stayed down."
With that, Caleb made his way down the slope to join Arthur in the yard. Arthur was standing near the mansion steps, smoke curling from the barrel of his revolver, a half smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed the aftermath.
Caleb approached, his boots squelching in the damp ground. "Looks like that's it then," he said, scanning the carnage. "Want to head inside and help John and Charles?"
Arthur glanced toward the doorway, where the sound of muffled gunfire and shouts still echoed faintly from within the mansion. He shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.
"Let the two of 'em handle it," he said, holstering his weapon. "We can rest here and wait 'til everything's done."
With that, he reached into his coat, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a match scraped off his boot heel. He took a slow drag, exhaling smoke through his nose, the faint grin never leaving his face.
Seeing this, Caleb chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alright then," he said with a wry smirk. "Guess we earned a minute."
He reached into his satchel, pulled out one of his cigars, and struck a match. The smell of rich tobacco soon mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder.
The two men stood there amidst the carnage, warriors at rest, silent and weary, the heat of battle fading into the quiet hum of the swamp.
For a few long moments, there was peace. The air was thick, heavy, but calm. The only sound was the occasional crack of gunfire from inside the mansion and the gentle rustle of leaves swaying in the humid breeze.
Arthur leaned against a broken column, eyes half closed. "Ain't been that kind of fight in a while," he muttered.
Caleb nodded, blowing a plume of smoke skyward. "Yeah. Guess we still got it, though."
Arthur gave a half grin. "Damn right we do."
Time drifted. The shouting inside gradually quieted, replaced by a few scattered shots, then silence. Moments later, the door creaked open, and John stepped out, rifle in hand, his face streaked with sweat and grime. Charles followed behind him, calm as ever, wiping the edge of his bow clean.
Arthur flicked ash from his cigarette. "All done?"
John let out a breath, nodding. "Ain't much left of 'em," he said dryly. "Whole damn place smells like powder, blood, and piss now."
Charles gave a small nod of confirmation. "Clear. They won't be coming back."
Caleb took one last drag of his cigar, then flicked it aside, the ember hissing as it hit damp grass. "Good work," he said simply. "Place like this, we'll make it livable soon enough."
Arthur pushed off the column, cracking his neck. "Dutch'll be pleased. Finally got ourselves a new home."
The four men exchanged tired, knowing looks. The battle was done, but its weight lingered, the smoke, the blood, the memory of how close it could've gone the other way.
Caleb looked toward the mansion, the grand ruin of Shady Belle, standing silent now under the noonday sun. He could almost feel the history clinging to it, the echoes of its former glory mixing with the death that had just stained its floors. At this time a system notification blinked faintly in the corner of his vision.
Seeing what the content of his system notification was, Caleb's expression shifted from fatigue to quiet satisfaction. The translucent blue interface hovered faintly in his peripheral vision, its soft light cutting through the haze of smoke and swamp mist.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
SKILL LEVEL UP!
Rifle Skill: Level 3 → Level 4
Knife Skill: Level 2 → Level 3
Hand to Hand Combat: Level 2 → Level 3
Pain Nullifier: Level 1 → Level 2
Physical Regeneration: Level 0 → Level 1
Firearms Knowledge: Level 3 → Level 4
A surge of satisfaction washed over him, momentarily eclipsing his fatigue. Caleb let out a slow breath, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I like this, give me more…" he murmured under his breath, flicking open his system menu for a second glance.
The glowing runes and digital text felt strangely out of place amid the blood soaked ruins of Shady Belle, but to him it was as natural as breathing.
Some of the upgrades were expected The rifle and knife upgrades were expected, a direct result of the dozens of precise shots and the brutal, close quarters kill. The hand to hand combat made sense from the initial struggle. But the last two were a surprise.
His Pain Nullifier skill reduced the intensity of physical pain, and his Physical Regeneration sped up his natural healing. He hadn't been badly hurt, the scuffle had been short, if intense. The knife had only grazed his shirt after all and not his flesh.
He could only conclude that the system considered the event itself, a pivotal battle for a new gang hideout, significant enough to grant a substantial experience bonus, rewarding not just the damage taken, but the sheer survival against overwhelming odds.
The idea of his system recognizing not just physical effort but significance made him happy and intrigued in equal measure. He smirked faintly. "Guess the system likes dramatic moments," he muttered.
His musings were cut off, as Arthur's voice pulled him back to reality. "Alright, boys," he said, pushing off the column he'd been leaning on. "We oughta clean this mess up before the whole damn place starts smellin' like a slaughterhouse and start stinkin' up our new home."
John, who was still wiping sweat from his face, gave a gruff snort. "You talkin' about inside or out here?"
Arthur gestured broadly at the bodies scattered across the yard, the porch, and what could only be described as a swamp side graveyard of gunmen. "All of it. Inside, outside, don't matter. Can't be leavin' 'em to rot. Flies'll be on us in an hour."
John frowned, glancing at the dozens of corpses strewn across the ground. "Yeah, but where the hell are we supposed to dump this many bodies, Arthur? We ain't exactly got a graveyard handy."
Before Arthur could answer, Caleb spoke up, slipping his revolvers back into their holsters before pointinh toward the left side of the mansion, where a rickety wooden jetty stretched out into the murky swamp waters.
"Let's dump the bodies in the swamp," he suggested, his tone practical. "There's a jetty over there to the left of the mansion. We can haul the corpses there and toss 'em in. They'll either sink to the bottom, get dragged away by the current, or end up as alligator food. Either way, problem solved."
Arthur thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Makes sense. Swamp'll take care of most of 'em."
John shrugged. "Ain't like I care where they go, long as I ain't the one haulin' every last one."
But Charles, ever the pragmatist, shook his head. "That works for a few. But this was their main base. There could be thirty, maybe forty bodies here. That many corpses won't just disappear. They'll bloat, float to the surface, and attract every scavenger for miles. The smell alone will be a beacon. And if the law comes sniffing around…"
...
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 3) → (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3) → (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2) → (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2) → (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1) → (Lvl 2)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0) → (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: 1,814 dollars and 46 cents
Inventory: 103,988 dollars and 50 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 58 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: -