With Laramie's execution by hanging, the fate of the Laramie Gang was sealed.
Those subordinates who were captured were mostly sent to Sisika Prison to serve their sentences. According to the law, they were looking at several years at the very least.
Of course, if any of them had a few dollars to spare, they could still bribe guards or intermediaries to slip through the cracks of justice. After all, they were nothing more than low-level gang thugs, and no one was particularly concerned about their fate.
In New Hanover, the destruction of the Laramie Gang brought the public an overwhelming sense of security.
In the eyes of Dutch, Arthur, and even Davey, the Laramie Gang had always been insignificant. But to ordinary people struggling to survive in the West, they were ruthless villains capable of every imaginable crime.
As a result, Valentine's reputation began spreading throughout the entire West.
...
Saint Denis.
The Mayor's Mansion.
"Mr. Bronte, are you joking with me?"
"Just yesterday, you came asking for my help in dealing with that man named Davey."
"And now, after only one night, you're telling me you want me to step in and help him clear his wanted status—through proper legal procedures, no less. Do you have any idea how troublesome that is?"
Mayor Henri Lemieux sat on the sofa, voicing his displeasure to Bronte.
Naturally, Lemieux hadn't taken any action yet. What he meant was obvious—he wanted another payment.
Bronte sighed helplessly. "Mr. Mayor, you know I wouldn't normally do this. But that man threatened my children."
"He's hiding beyond civilization, in a barbaric land. For now, I can't do anything to him. So instead of letting him continue to grow in that savagery, it's better to bring him into the city."
"This is our territory. Those uncivilized apes living in the wilderness don't understand the pleasures or the rules of civilization."
To Bronte, civilization was also a set of chains. As long as Davey remained in the West, leading a band of hardened outlaws, Bronte had little leverage over him. And the federal government would never deploy troops just to deal with a gang.
After thinking it through, Bronte decided that agreeing to Davey's request might actually be the better option. It would preserve his credibility and draw Davey into Saint Denis.
No one could resist luxury and indulgence. Life in a grand city was something no western town could compare to.
Here, Bronte had far more ways to deal with Davey. Many problems didn't have to be solved through violence.
Mayor Lemieux said, "Very well, Mr. Bronte. Since you insist on doing this, I'll support you. But you should understand—those judges are nothing like us. They're stubborn, rigid, and utterly inflexible. They won't be easy to deal with."
"Convincing them to bend the law will come at a heavy price."
"It may require a very large sum of dollars."
The federal government had long been infiltrated by capital, but the law itself was still the final line guarded by Puritans.
In the East, something like this would be impossible—but this was the West, where things weren't always so rigid.
Still, the money required would be no small amount.
"Oh, of course," Bronte replied. "That damn baboon will thank me for it."
At this point, Bronte couldn't afford to worry about the money.
He wouldn't do business at a loss, though. Davey's moonshine was guaranteed to bring him far more profit in return. Bronte knew exactly how much money that kind of flavor would generate once it spread through Saint Denis.
It would dwarf mere tens of thousands of dollars.
He had originally wanted to take Davey's moonshine recipe for free, but now he had no choice but to cooperate.
Besides, his moonshine operations had already been destroyed by Davey. Finding a new production site wasn't easy.
Outside the city were nothing but wild, lawless regions where safety couldn't be guaranteed.
Back then, his stable supply had only been possible through cooperation with the Braithwaites.
That was one of the main reasons Bronte chose to help Davey.
If you can't destroy your enemy, then become their ally—though if the opportunity arose, Bronte wouldn't mind stabbing him in the back.
Clearly, Davey thought the same way.
...
Land Farm.
Davey received a telegram from Napoli.
The message said that Bronte was already pulling strings on his behalf, and that the matter might be resolved before long.
Davey was somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected someone like Bronte to go that far.
But when he saw the mention of moonshine cooperation in the telegram, everything made sense.
Bronte wanted to expand the moonshine business on a much larger scale. Anyone with even a basic understanding of Davey's background knew that his current fortune had been built on that top-tier moonshine.
The profits involved were absolutely staggering—easily rivaling the businesses of some eastern tycoons.
"Looks like you're in a good mood, Davey."
At dinner, the abundance of food on the table reflected Davey's spirits, prompting Arthur's curiosity.
Living here with Davey during this time had been wonderful for Arthur. He truly liked this place, including teaching the children art.
Davey smiled and replied, "Of course. Maybe it won't be long before you see it in the newspapers, Arthur—the Callander brothers being arrested, put on trial, and hanged on the gallows in Saint Denis."
"Maybe that'll also ease the Pinkertons' pursuit of you."
Arthur hesitated slightly before saying, "That is good news, Davey. But I think my injuries have mostly healed."
"Maybe it's time for me to leave. Dutch still needs me."
Hearing this, Davey set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, "You know I won't stop you from going back, Arthur."
"But if one day you're no longer needed by Dutch, or if something else happens, you'll always be welcome here. The kids really like their art teacher."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser