If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"It went exceptionally well," Caleb answered, a satisfied smile touching his lips. "Tesla is genuinely interested in our offer. I do not consider the arrangement finalized yet, a mind like his requires time to process the sheer scale of what I'm offering, but I am confident he will eventually accept the proposal."
"And the relocation?" Strauss asked, adjusting his spectacles. "Did he agree to move the laboratory?"
"He is highly receptive to the idea," Caleb confirmed. "Having him closer to our main operations in Saint Denis will make everything infinitely easier. I can provide him with the laboratories, the heavy manufacturing equipment, the skilled workers, the raw funding, and the absolute physical protection he needs, without having to manage the security logistics from eight hundred miles away."
Hosea nodded in agreement. "It's a smart play. Keep the genius close to the chest."
"So," Strauss began, opening his ledger and preparing his fountain pen. "Now that we have successfully met all five of Senator Pendleton's contacts and established our first major political and financial connections in this city... what is our next move, Don Thorne? Do we begin preparing the train for the return journey to Saint Denis?"
"We are not leaving just yet, Strauss," Caleb replied, setting his coffee cup down. "We have opened the doors to New York. Now, we must establish a permanent foundation for our influence here."
Hosea raised an eyebrow. "A foundation? You want to build a factory right now?"
"Not a factory. A restaurant," Caleb corrected smoothly.
Strauss blinked in surprise. "A restaurant, sir? In New York?"
"We are bringing our highly successful fast food concept from Valentine and Saint Denis into the North," Caleb explained, his tone shifting into the visionary cadence of a master franchiser. "This is not simply another culinary venture, gentlemen. This restaurant will be the absolute foundation of our physical presence in the city. It provides legitimate employment, a massive, untraceable daily cash flow, intense public visibility, and a highly respectable, legal front through which the people of New York can become intimately familiar with the Thorne name."
Caleb locked eyes with his accountant. "And you, Strauss, are going to remain in New York to oversee the entire operation."
Strauss stiffened slightly, clearly taken aback by the sudden assignment. "I am... to remain behind, Don Thorne?"
"You will not be alone, Herr Strauss," Caleb assured him firmly. "Several of our most disciplined capos will remain here with you as a permanent security detachment. And as the New York operation inevitably grows, I will send additional trusted men from Saint Denis to support you. You are my most capable financial mind, Strauss. I need you managing the northern ledgers."
Strauss's hesitation vanished, replaced by a deep sense of pride and immense responsibility. "It would be an absolute honor, sir. I will ensure the operation is flawless."
"Good," Caleb nodded. "Begin searching for the right building immediately. Coordinate with the people connected to our five new contacts. Use Vance for the zoning permits, use Hoolihan's men to move the construction materials, and use Macleod's police to ensure the neighborhood remains quiet. Let's see if our new network actually works."
Over the next several days, Caleb stepped back from the grueling pace of corporate negotiation. He returned his full attention to Mary-Beth, ensuring that the remaining days of their honeymoon were spent in pure, uninterrupted bliss.
They explored the wonders of the city together, wrapped in heavy coats against the biting northern wind. They enjoyed incredible meals in quiet, intimate restaurants tucked away in Greenwich Village, browsed the sprawling, chaotic markets of the Lower East Side, and shopped for elegant souvenirs along Fifth Avenue.
They spent hours in the sprawling art galleries, talking late into the night about the paintings and the bustling, electric life of the city. Caleb made a conscious, deliberate effort to ensure that the trip did not devolve into nothing but work, and Mary-Beth loved him all the more for it.
While Caleb and Mary-Beth enjoyed the city, Hosea and Strauss scoured the real estate markets of Manhattan.
Eventually, Strauss requested an immediate meeting.
Caleb met his generals in a rented carriage, which took them to a bustling, chaotic intersection in Midtown Manhattan.
"This is the property, Don Thorne," Strauss pointed out the window at a massive, multi story brick building situated on a sprawling corner lot. "The current owner is desperate to liquidate. It is centrally located, the foot traffic is staggering, and it is directly adjacent to three major carriage routes."
Caleb looked out the window, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the intersection. He recognized the street grid immediately from his past-life memories. This wasn't just a busy corner.
This was the future location of Times Square.
He didn't reveal his anachronistic knowledge to his men, but he instantly, viscerally understood the staggering long term value of the location. In a few short decades, this intersection would become the absolute, glittering epicenter of global commercial activity, boasting the heaviest pedestrian traffic in the world.
"Buy it," Caleb ordered without a second of hesitation. "Pay whatever he is asking in cash, and secure the deed today."
With the property secured, the massive machinery of the Thorne Holding Company roared to life.
The recruitment process began immediately. Caleb did not simply want expensive, high-society chefs. He instructed Strauss to hire a mixture of experienced cooks and ordinary, working-class men and women who were desperately struggling to find work in the unforgiving city. As long as they were reliable, hardworking, and willing to follow strict instructions, Caleb was willing to employ them, ensuring the restaurant provided genuine opportunities for the people of New York.
However, Caleb also ensured the business was legally fortified.
Every single worker was required to sign highly detailed, ironclad employment agreements and non disclosure contracts. Caleb made it absolutely clear that the recipes, the rapid preparation methods, the proprietary sauces, the unique seasonings, and the drink formulas were the exclusive, copyrighted intellectual property of the company.
"If anyone deliberately attempts to steal or sell these recipes to a competitor," Caleb instructed Strauss, ensuring the accountant understood the severity of the legal framework Pierre had drafted, "they will face immediate, crushing financial penalties and severe legal consequences. Use Senator Astor's influence in Albany if any local judges attempt to challenge the contracts."
With the legal foundation poured, Caleb decided that this new, massive northern branch required a new identity. He didn't want it to feel like merely another local restaurant. He wanted the brand to represent his absolute, unyielding ambition for an international fast food empire.
He named it Thorne Crown*
"It represents the direction we are taking, Strauss," Caleb explained as they stood in the empty, dusty shell of the newly purchased building. "This company will not remain a small chain limited to Valentine and Saint Denis. I want the Thorne Crown recognized across the entire country, and eventually, around the world."
Caleb personally took charge of developing the menu utilizing his max level cooking skill, expanding heavily on the successful foundation he had built in the South to appeal to a much broader, diverse urban audience.
He introduced several different, highly engineered burger variations, featuring different flavor profiles, premium imported cheeses, and unique, proprietary toppings, rather than relying on a single standard item. Drawing heavily from his past life knowledge, he added perfectly seasoned, buttermilk battered Southern fried chicken to the menu, ensuring a crispy, highly addictive recipe that New York had never tasted before.
But the true, signature innovation he introduced was his new potato creation. He designed a specialized, hand cranked cutting machine that transformed whole potatoes into long, continuous, spiral cut shapes. The "Twisted Fries" were visually distinctive, incredibly fun to eat, and instantly grabbed the attention of anyone who saw them.
Ice cream, cold drinks, and familiar refreshments rounded out the menu, ensuring Thorne Crown appealed to absolutely everyone, regardless of their background.
Once the menu was locked in, Caleb focused entirely on the physical renovation of the building.
He personally drafted the interior and exterior concepts. He wanted something noticeably, aggressively more modern than the dark, cramped, gas lit restaurants people were accustomed to seeing in 1900, while ensuring the design remained welcoming and didn't look so alien that customers rejected it.
He ordered the walls knocked down to create a massive, open concept dining room. He installed sprawling, floor to ceiling plate glass windows to flood the interior with natural light. The walls were painted in bright, welcoming, and impeccably clean tones.
He designed an incredibly efficient, assembly line style kitchen organization that allowed the staff to handle massive, overwhelming numbers of customers with terrifying speed. The seating was comfortable but utilitarian, the signage was bold and electric, and the service counters were flawlessly organized.
Above all else, Caleb demanded absolute, uncompromising cleanliness. He wanted Thorne Crown to feel noticeably cleaner and vastly more organized than any other establishment in the city.
Strauss and Hosea contributed their own practical suggestions regarding supply chain logistics, staff rotations, and customer flow, ensuring the visionary design was actually profitable to run.
By the end of their third week in New York, the massive renovations were nearing completion. Caleb stood across the bustling street, watching the massive, glowing electric sign for Thorne Crown being hoisted into place above the doors.
He was deeply, profoundly satisfied.
He had accomplished everything he had set out to do, and significantly more. He had secured a powerful Wall Street banking ally. He had established a pragmatic, working relationship with the NYPD. He had forced the stevedores and Tammany Hall to respect his authority, and he had secured crucial political support in Albany. He had located Nikola Tesla and initiated the partnership that would define the next century of technology.
And now, he had planted the massive, permanent foundation of the Thorne Trading Company directly in the center of the greatest city in the world.
It was time to go home.
Before departing, Caleb met privately with Strauss in the quiet of the hotel suite.
"The New York operation is officially yours, Strauss," Caleb said, handing the accountant a thick, heavy ledger detailing the final municipal bribes and the restaurant operating budget. "You will remain here with Vincenzo's hand picked men. Continue developing the restaurant, and keep a very close eye on the political network we have established. If Vance or Hoolihan try to change the terms of our agreements, wire me immediately."
"I will guard our interests with my life, Don Thorne," Strauss promised, his posture rigid with pride.
"There is one more thing," Caleb added, thinking ahead to the inevitable expansion of his syndicate. "I want you to begin searching for a much larger, permanent building in a discreet but respectable neighborhood. An apartment complex or a large boarding house. I do not want our capos and employees constantly paying for hotel rooms whenever they are stationed in New York. I want a dedicated, heavily secured residence where our people can live comfortably and safely. Buy the building outright. It will serve as our permanent northern barracks."
"Consider it done, sir," Strauss noted the instruction in his ledger.
With the business finally concluded, Caleb settled the staggering, exorbitant bill at the Waldorf-Astoria in full, paying in crisp, untraceable cash. The hotel staff, who had become intimately familiar with the generous, charismatic Southerner and his beautiful wife, bowed respectfully as they left, Caleb ensuring the porters and maids were tipped heavily for their exceptional service.
Before heading to the train station, Caleb and Mary-Beth spent their final afternoon in New York shopping for local specialties and elegant souvenirs to bring back to the family waiting for them in Saint Denis.
The afternoon was light, deeply personal, and filled with warm laughter, providing a perfect ending after weeks of intense political and business maneuvering.
Mary-Beth was in absolute heaven, meticulously choosing gifts for everyone back home. She bought beautiful, delicate silk scarves for Abigail and Tilly, an expensive, heavily embroidered shawl for Miss Grimshaw, and elegant, modern perfumes for Karen and Molly.
Caleb wasn't left out of the shopping spree. He purchased a set of incredibly rare, first edition historical novels for Hosea, a custom engraved silver flask for Arthur, a pristine set of pearl handled throwing knives for Javier, and a magnificent, imported leather saddle for John. For Pierre, the brilliant young lawyer, Caleb bought a beautiful, gold nibbed fountain pen from a boutique on Fifth Avenue. He even remembered to buy a massive, expensive rawhide bone for Cain, knowing little Jack would be thrilled to give it to the dog.
"I think we are going to need a separate freight car just for the souvenirs, sweetheart," Caleb laughed, carrying a towering stack of wrapped boxes out of a boutique, humorously accepting his fate as a pack mule.
"Oh, hush," Mary-Beth teased, looping her arm through his as they walked down the bustling sidewalk. "You can afford the extra coal for the train."
Eventually, the heavily armored Pullman train of the Thorne Holding Company sat idling at the station, billowing massive clouds of white steam into the freezing New York air.
The luggage, the souvenirs, and the heavily armed capos were loaded aboard. Caleb stood on the platform for a final moment, his arm wrapped securely around Mary-Beth's waist.
He looked back at the towering, chaotic, magnificent expanse of the New York skyline. He understood perfectly that he was not truly leaving the city behind.
He had planted the first, massive seed. Thorne Crown was preparing to open its doors. Strauss and his men were remaining behind to guard the fortress. The corrupt machinery of the city now knew exactly who Caleb Thorne was.
Just as Caleb and Mary-Beth turned to step into their train carriage, a familiar voice suddenly echoed down the concrete platform, calling Caleb's name.
Caleb stopped immediately. Mary-Beth, Arthur, and Hosea turned around in surprise.
Caleb was genuinely shocked. Walking rapidly toward them through the crowds was Nikola Tesla.
After their previous meeting, Tesla had returned to his laboratory without giving Caleb a clear, definitive answer regarding the relocation to Saint Denis. Caleb had sent several of his men to follow up with the inventor over the past few days, offering to help him pack and asking if he had accepted the offer. Tesla hadn't opened his door, hadn't answered the men, and hadn't given any response whatsoever.
For a while, Caleb assumed the opportunity had simply been lost. He had considered forcing the issue, but ultimately rejected the idea, he knew that treating a mind like Tesla's like a prisoner, or pressuring him too hard, would destroy the fragile trust they had built. Caleb had decided he would simply return to New York later in the year and try again.
Now, however, Tesla had come to him on his own.
Caleb turned around, a warm smile breaking across his face. But that smile almost instantly shifted into sheer surprise when he realized just how much Tesla had brought with him.
Trailing behind the gaunt inventor were four exhausted-looking dockworkers. They were pushing heavy wooden handcarts stacked dangerously high with a chaotic mountain of wooden boxes, battered suitcases, sensitive scientific equipment, stacks of leather-bound books, loose blueprints, and various strange pieces of brass and copper machinery.
It was abundantly obvious that Tesla had not merely come to say goodbye. He had decided to leave.
"Mr. Thorne!" Tesla called out, slightly out of breath as he reached the group. He stopped, adjusting his coat, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I must apologize. I'm incredibly fortunate that you have not departed yet."
"Nikola," Caleb chuckled, stepping down from the train car. "I assumed you had decided to stay in New York."
"I... I apologize for not answering your men earlier," Tesla explained, waving a hand dismissively at the memory. "After our long conversation, I returned to my laboratory and became so entirely absorbed in calculating the resonance frequencies we discussed that I barely noticed the passage of time. I did not sleep. I did not check the door."
Tesla sighed, gesturing to his luggage. "It was only this morning that I found the letter your men left, explaining that you were leaving New York at noon. Once I read it, I immediately realized I had waited entirely too long to give you my answer. I began packing everything I believed was necessary for my immediate research and hired these men off the street to help me transport my belongings to the station."
Caleb found the frantic, scattered explanation deeply amusing rather than irritating. He chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Tesla's shoulder.
"It is perfectly fine, Nikola. I understand completely," Caleb assured him warmly. "I have occasionally become so absorbed in a project that I've forgotten the world around me entirely... though probably never for quite as long as you."
Tesla accepted the joke with a small, self-deprecating smile.
Caleb immediately turned to his men. "Vincenzo, Silvio, Arthur, John. Help Mr. Tesla and these gentlemen load this equipment into the secure freight car. Be incredibly careful with those crates."
The gang moved to help. The sheer scale and bizarre nature of Tesla's belongings provided an immediate source of humor.
"Jesus, what is in this box?" Arthur grunted, his knees actually buckling slightly as he lifted a small, unremarkable wooden crate. "Lead bricks?"
"Ah, please be careful with that, Mister," Tesla hovered nervously. "That is a highly sensitive oscillating transformer. The magnetic core is quite dense."
"Right. Oscillating... whatever you say, partner," Arthur muttered, carefully hauling it up the steps.
John stared blankly at a tangled mess of glass vacuum tubes and thick copper wiring. "What the hell does this do?"
"It doesn't do anything yet, sir, the vacuum seal is currently broken," Tesla tried to explain. John just blinked at him, completely lost, before grabbing the crate and hauling it away. As the last of the boxes were loaded, Tesla turned back to the four exhausted workers who had pushed the handcarts from lower Manhattan.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 283,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -