In <Outlaw Hunt>, if you kill innocent civilians, a bounty is placed on the player.
The same applies here.
If I accidentally kill a civilian, I too become an outlaw.
So, after 17 years in the West, I’ve set a principle:
If it’s not certain the opponent is an outlaw, don’t draw your gun first.
If it’s clear they’re an outlaw or they draw first, then I’ll draw too.
The guy in front of me was clearly an outlaw, but I waited just in case, not drawing my gun first.
You might wonder, “What if they draw first and I die?”
That’s where my trait [Fastest Gunslinger in the West] comes into play.
[Fastest Gunslinger in the West] is a trait unlocked after capturing 10,000 outlaws in the game.
The unlock condition is tough, but the effect is amazing…
It gives +100% accuracy and adds a shooting impact bonus.
Plus, when a duel starts, my body becomes extremely fast.
So fast that time and space around me feel slow in comparison.
*Whoosh.*
I’m the fastest draw in the West…
The so-called Quick Draw King.
*Click.*
While the guy was fumbling to open his holster, I already had my gun out.
Since he drew first, he’s almost certainly an outlaw, and even if he were a civilian, I could claim self-defense.
But…
“Why is this guy so slow?”
This guy.
He’s the bottom of the barrel, even among outlaws.
Seeing how slow he was, I felt it’d be a waste of bullets to shoot him.
So instead of shooting, I flipped my gun and grabbed the barrel with my hand.
And then…
*Whack!!!*
“Aaaah!!!”
I smacked the handle right into his temple.
Bullets cost money, after all.
I didn’t want to waste them on some lowlife outlaw.
But then…
*Crack.*
“…Huh?”
At first, I thought something broke, maybe his skull, but when I turned my head…
“No, no!!! My revolver!!!”
My revolver was falling apart, screws coming loose.
“No!!! My $5 single-action Army!!!”
Damn it. I tried to save a few cents on bullets and ended up wrecking my $5 revolver.
Repairing it would cost another $1 or $2…
“You son of a b****.”
“W-wait…! My head…! My head feels weird…!”
“I’ll make the rest of you feel weird too.”
*Wham!*
There goes $5.
It felt like my end-of-service bonus just flew away.
My heart was breaking.
I vented my anger by beating the outlaw in front of me.
“W-wait…! I’m sorry…! I’ll give you my gun instead…!”
“…What’s your gun? Hey, you idiot. A Navy Revolver? This is an 1851 model, an old piece!!! Mine was a brand-new model!!!”
“Ugh…! W-wait…!!”
Seeing his outdated revolver made me even angrier.
“Who told you to have such a hard head? My gun should’ve broken your skull instead!!!”
“Aaaaah!!!”
My venting continued until Emma finally came out to stop me.
* * *
“Hmm…, ah…!”
“Do you know who he is?”
After staring at the guy’s face for a while, Emma finally seemed to remember and brought me a bounty poster from the office.
“Marv Merchins. Bounty: $98. He was caught stealing cattle in Texas and fled.”
The first reason I hired Emma is because she’s pretty, and the second is this.
Emma has a great memory.
She can memorize all the sketches and details of the countless bounty posters piled up in my office.
“He’s the accomplice of Harry Lime, the cattle thief you caught a month ago. …Boss, you beat his face so badly it took me a while to recognize him.”
“So he’s the accomplice of the guy I caught. Did he come for revenge or something?”
“Y-yeah…!!”
As soon as I finished speaking, Marv, his face a mess, shouted while bleeding.
“I-I came to avenge Harry!! You bastards…! You put a bounty on us just for stealing a few cows?”
“How many did you steal?”
“…The poster says 58 cows.”
“Oh.”
…How’d you do that?
Just two guys stealing 58 cows… That’s some crazy talent.
“What does it matter if it’s 58 or 580 cows! If we hadn’t stolen those cows, Harry and I would’ve starved to death with no money.”
“Oh dear.”
“You’re just a government lackey blinded by bounties, capturing poor folks like us…. Just kill me already!”
Marv, seemingly resolved to die, bravely shouted even after being beaten to a pulp.
But…
“Why would I kill you, friend.”
I had no intention of letting Marv go easily.
“Listen, friend. I think bounty hunters and outlaws who share the same battlefield and shed blood together are the best of friends.”
“…What?”
Confused but slightly hopeful, Marv looked at me.
“Marv. We just pointed guns at each other and shared a moment, right? That makes us friends.”
“S-so?”
“So, friend….”
I asked Marv the most important question.
“Where’s the money from selling the cows?”
“……Huh?”
“I mean, you sold 58 cows, so there must be some money left…. Where is it?”
“…….”
Finally, Marv snapped out of his daze and shouted at me angrily.
“Y-you crazy bastard! Are you trying to extort money from an outlaw?”
“Money is just money. There’s no such thing as outlaw money or civilian money. Just leave it with me, your friend, before you go to trial and get executed.”
“Friend my ass…! Why would you be my friend? Get lost!!”
“We’re… not friends?”
I immediately pulled out a knife from my back pocket.
“If we’re not friends, then I have no reason to keep a scumbag outlaw like you alive.”
*Thud.*
“……!”
I stabbed the knife into the ground right in front of his eye.
Close enough that if he moved even slightly, the blade would graze his eyeball.
* * *
“Y-you…!”
With the knife right in front of his eye, Marv…
Mab’s face turned pale as a sheet.
Noah, seeing Mab like that, let out a creepy laugh.
“Hanging might not be such a bad choice after all.”
“……”
“How much would it hurt to bleed out after having your eyeballs gouged out?”
At Noah’s horrifying words, Mab looked up with trembling eyes.
Noah was laughing like a madman, clearly enjoying the situation.
“Are you… are you going to torture me?!”
“Sorry. But I really need the money, you know? I’d do anything for money.”
It was then that Mab remembered the nickname Noah was known by around these parts.
The brat Kid, the reckless Kid.
And…
The monster born of capitalism.
Rumor had it he’d do absolutely anything to make a buck.
“Boss, your bad habits are showing again.”
“Yeah, Emma. This might be a bit too gruesome for a lady, so why don’t you head inside?”
With that, Noah pulled the knife stuck in the ground.
And then…
Swish.
He moved the blade slightly to the side, aiming it right at Mab’s eyeball.
As the sharp blade filled his vision, Mab was truly panicked.
‘How much would it hurt to bleed out after having your eyeballs gouged out?’
Of course, it would hurt like hell, damn it!
He’d rather die by a bullet or hanging than this kind of death.
“W-wait!! I-I’ll talk! The 10 bucks in my pocket! That’s all I have left!”
“Nope.”
“W-what?”
“Wrong answer.”
Noah, saying that, raised the knife high, showing no more mercy.
“Hey, you little brat! I told you that’s all I have! What the hell are you talking about?!”
“Done talking? Take a good last look at the world before you lose your sight.”
“W-wait!!”
Without hesitation, Noah brought the knife down swiftly.
Screaaak-!
Life flashed before Mab’s eyes.
From his troubled childhood to his glorious outlaw days.
He had lived a decent life, but now he was going out in pain.
Though he was an outlaw who valued nothing more than money… in his final moments, extreme fear made money irrelevant.
“T-the sole of my shoe…!!”
Thud.
As Mab tearfully spoke, Noah finally stopped the knife.
“There’s 50 bucks in the sole of my shoe…!”
“…Just 50 bucks? Really? You stole 58 cows?”
“I used the rest to pay off debts, that’s really all I have left. I-I swear…! Believe me.”
“……”
At Mab’s sincere words, Noah quietly took off his shoe and checked the sole.
Under the insole, there was indeed 50 bucks hidden.
Though it was a crumpled, stinky bill, Noah smiled in satisfaction.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Noah finally put the knife back in his back pocket.
The smile on his face was back to that of a mischievous prankster.
**
After firmly tying up the soul-drained Mab, I sipped the coffee Emma had worriedly prepared.
Emma poured herself a cup and said to me,
“…Your bad habit of squeezing every last penny out of outlaws is still going strong.”
“Outlaw bastards. They value money over their own lives, so you have to do this to get it out of them.”
This was the lesson I had learned over the past 17 years.
Of course, I don’t torment them because I enjoy it. It’s just a survival strategy.
“You weren’t really going to gouge his eyes out, were you?”
“Hey, I’m not that barbaric. You know that.”
This is a game world.
No sympathy for outlaw NPCs.
But why would I go so far as to gouge out eyeballs?
I’m not some barbarian.
Click-clack.
As I was chatting with Emma, a new sound reached my ears.
But this time, it wasn’t a person—it was a carriage.
“Looks like he’s here.”
“Is it the Sheriff?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Stepping outside with Emma, I saw a man approaching in a carriage.
Definitely not a client or an outlaw.
Gleam.
A silver six-pointed badge reflecting the sunlight on his shirt.
Tanned skin with the stern look of a former soldier. A receding hairline and barely any sideburns left.
The man driving the carriage was none other than Sheriff Jet Gray of Justice Town.
Having been the sheriff of Justice Town for 10 years now, Jet…
“Kid!! You caused trouble again, you brat!!”
…was someone who really disliked me.
He was the one who gave me the nickname “Kid” because I acted like a brat.
Ever since I arrived in Justice Town three years ago, I’ve been causing non-stop trouble.
Judging by his tone, it seemed like he was going to give me an earful today. Tired, I sighed and asked Emma,
“Emma, why does that old man hate me so much?”
“What? Old man? You brat, how dare you call the Sheriff that!!”
“Oops.”
I got so used to talking to Deaf Bob at the Deaf Man’s Tavern that I slipped up.
That guy has sharp ears.
“…I think I know why the Sheriff dislikes you, Boss.”
“Clearly, he’s just jealous of me because he’s old, can’t perform, and is going bald, while I’m young and full of potential.”
“Hey, you!”
“Oops.”
Oh no, I did it again.
Jet, truly angry, came running at me, his few remaining sideburns flailing.
“Sheriff, stress and excitement are bad for hair loss and erectile dysfunction. Take deep breaths, deep breaths.”
“You brat, today I’ll…!!”
I warmly welcomed Jet as he approached.
