“Sheriff! Thanks to you, I’m alive! Thank you!”
“Sheriff!!”
I, who had become the hero of the train, was constantly harassed by people who recognized me wherever I went.
I found such people extremely burdensome…
“Sheriff…! I don’t know if you remember, but earlier in the second-class car, you saved my life. It’s a small amount, but please accept it…”
“No, haha! No need for this!”
…Well, not really.
I quickly tucked the envelope of money from the well-dressed man into my pocket and shook his hand.
“Everyone! I will take responsibility and protect this train until we arrive in San Francisco!”
“Wooow!”
Having become the idol of the train, I finally managed to shake off the crowd and return to our cabin.
*Thud.*
Exhausted, I immediately flopped onto the bed and spoke to Emma, who had been sitting on the sofa in the cabin.
But…
“Ugh, today was tough. Emma, you did well.”
“……”
“……?”
Even though I spoke, Emma didn’t respond.
At first, I thought she was reading a book, but she wasn’t.
Emma was just blankly staring into space.
Finally realizing why Emma was so down, I opened the whiskey provided in our first-class cabin and poured her a glass.
“Want a drink?”
“……”
From past experience, I knew Emma wasn’t used to alcohol and was weak to it.
Still, Emma accepted the glass I offered.
*Clink.*
I filled my own glass and clinked it against Emma’s.
“Cheers.”
After a short toast, Emma gave a slightly sharp response.
“…What are we toasting to? Celebrating the successful takedown of the train robbers today?”
“……”
“…Ah.”
Emma quickly realized she had reacted too sensitively and covered her mouth with her hand.
“…I’m sorry, Boss.”
She bowed her head to me with an apologetic look.
I smiled at her and replied.
“I was toasting to welcome you to the real West.”
“…The real West? Ah…”
Emma’s current sensitivity was likely due to her first experience with killing earlier that day.
Whether the opponent was an outlaw or a villain.
Taking someone’s life isn’t easy.
But that difficult thing happens every day in the West.
Shooting before the other person shoots, killing before they kill you…
That’s the real West.
Emma seemed to understand my words and nodded, murmuring.
But…
“The real West… Yes, the West is like this. If I don’t kill, I could be killed… I expected it, but it’s a bit… overwhelming.”
“……”
It seemed Emma’s mental state wouldn’t recover easily.
‘This is a bit of a problem…’
In fact, this train robbery was just a taste of the West.
The place we were heading to was several times rougher than this.
Many people think San Francisco, the largest city in the West, is the safest place in the West, but they’re wrong.
In reality, San Francisco is a den of evil.
Going to San Francisco with Emma in her current state would only make her a burden.
So, I had no choice but to…
*Swoosh.*
I approached the sofa where Emma was sitting and carefully opened my mouth.
“…Is killing someone that hard?”
“……”
“Well, I felt the same way at first. No matter how bad the person was, the first time I killed someone, it was really tough.”
“…!”
When I shared a bit of my story, Emma flinched and looked at me with surprised eyes.
“…Boss, too.”
“…Huh?”
“Boss, have you ever struggled with killing outlaws?”
“…Huh?”
“…No, Boss, you kill outlaws so easily.”
“……”
So, she thought I was some emotionless psychopath.
I stared at her with that meaning in my eyes, and Emma bowed her head and apologized.
“…I’m sorry.”
“…It’s fine.”
After accepting Emma’s apology, I fell into a brief reverie.
When I first entered this damn Western game, I was six years old.
And… my first kill happened when I was six.
“The first person I killed was my father.”
“…!”
Of course, I didn’t consider that man my father.
He was just the biological father of this body, ‘Noah.’
“Don’t look at me with those weird eyes. That bastard deserved to die. That crazy guy beat me, a six-year-old kid, to the point of death, you know?”
When I first entered this game in the body of six-year-old Noah, I was extremely confused.
But before I could even adapt to this world, my father beat me every day.
Not as discipline or tough love, but as an outlet for his anger.
‘Ugh, damn it! Why don’t you run away like your mom did? Why are you sticking around and bothering me, you little brat!’
My father was the host of a local bar and a gigolo who offered his body to wealthy ladies for a night.
Whenever he didn’t get good tips or had no work, he took out his anger on me.
At that time, I was very young and much smaller than my peers, so whenever my father raised his fist, I would often pass out.
But that day was different.
‘Wait… just a second… ugh… I can’t… breathe…’
After being punched in the solar plexus by my father, I couldn’t breathe, as if my throat was blocked.
The world turned red… I felt like I was going to die.
“But that bastard didn’t stop punching. That’s when I saw it… the table…”
“…My father’s revolver, lying on top.”
At that moment, the only thought in my head was that I had to survive, no matter what.
I threw my body forward, stretched out my hand, and grabbed the pistol in my dazed state.
And then…
“Bang.”
“……”
“It was clearly the first time I fired a gun, but it hit my father’s heart perfectly.”
That’s how my father died.
‘Ah… Aah…’
That was my first murder, and I immediately ran out of the house and started running somewhere.
I hadn’t eaten, so I had no strength, and my feet were bleeding, but I didn’t stop.
…Because it felt like something was chasing me from behind.
It felt like whatever was chasing me would catch me at any moment and judge my sins.
I couldn’t stop.
I ran through the wasteland all night…
Until I finally collapsed, completely drained.
‘Who are you? What are you doing lying here alone?’
…That’s when I met her.
“……”
And that’s where my recollection ended.
Even now, it’s a damn messed-up memory.
When I finished the story, Emma was looking at me with an expression I’d never seen before.
And then…
Squeeze.
At some point, she had taken my hand.
“…Hmm.”
“……”
Feeling awkward at the sudden change in atmosphere, I quickly pulled my hand away and explained why I had told her this damn story.
“…So, the reason I told you this story is…”
“……”
“…Many people in the West have messed-up first experiences like this. But the reason they stay in this godforsaken West, holding a gun, is because of their goals.”
“Goals…?”
The experience of killing someone to survive is truly messed up.
Many people in the West go through such messed-up experiences but stay here because of their goals.
For some, it’s money. For others, it’s honor. For some, it’s family.
My goal is to return home.
For 17 years, I endured this messed-up West with the goal of logging out of this game and returning to the real world.
“Emma, you have a goal too, right?”
“……”
“Think about that and endure this rough life in the West.”
Emma’s goal is to one day travel the vast world.
I had told her this story to advise her to endure the messed-up life in the West for the sake of that dream.
But it seemed Emma took the story differently.
“…I don’t want to kill anyone for my goal.”
“Huh?”
“Instead…”
Just as I tilted my head at Emma’s unexpected answer…
Knock knock.
Someone knocked on the door, and when I turned my head…
“Um, can I come in…?”
“You…”
It was the girl I had saved earlier that day, peeking her head in.
“What are you doing here at this hour…? Come in.”
Blinking at the sudden visit, I gestured, and the girl entered our room.
And then…
Bow.
“Thank you for saving me, Sheriff.”
“……”
She bowed her head to me.
‘Honestly, I didn’t really intend to save her…’
As I looked at the girl, feeling some strange emotion, she turned to Emma and bowed.
“Thank you for saving me too, sister.”
“……”
Emma, who had been silently watching, suddenly…
Smirk.
She smiled, a smile she rarely showed, and patted the girl’s head.
Emma, patting the girl’s head, said,
“At first, the trigger was so hard to pull, but when it came to protecting the boss, I pulled it without even thinking.”
“……”
“…As the boss said, killing someone seems like a difficult experience. So, I don’t want to kill anyone for my goal.”
Emma’s eyes were shining again as she continued.
“Instead… I want to shoot for small, precious people like this girl or the boss.”
She wants to shoot to protect others.
“……”
…The moment I heard that, I remembered something someone had told me in the past.
‘…Shooting someone with a gun is a sad thing.’
She, who was as skilled with a gun as I was and specialized in killing people, had clearly said that.
‘So, like Kid, I want to hold a gun for the people precious to me.’
What she said back then and what Emma said now were similar.
Wanting to shoot for others…?
It was the complete opposite of my answer, which was to shoot only for myself.
So, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“…Well, if that can be your comfort in this messed-up life in the West, then go ahead.”
As I said that, I looked out the window.
It was night, so I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel it.
“…We’ve crossed the border of California. We’ll be in San Francisco soon.”
I didn’t really want to go back, but… the largest city in the West that would get me home faster.
San Francisco was getting closer.
