Chapter 14
Living in this damn West for the past 17 years, of course, my body couldn't always be in perfect condition.
Even with cheat-like traits...
From the confusing childhood years to getting used to Western life, I had been shot and stabbed.
Most people died immediately when shot in the chest.
Then, did one die if they were stabbed in the chest with a knife? Not necessarily.
"Cough... huff..."
Red Beard, with a knife in his chest, fell backward.
Yet, he was still alive, breathing heavily.
People didn't die immediately even when stabbed in the chest with a knife.
Instead... if one pulled out that knife, they died from excessive bleeding.
I could have immediately pulled out that knife and killed Red Beard from blood loss, but...
"..."
Step.
Instead, I picked up a gun lying around and aimed it at Red Beard's head.
I didn't sympathize with NPCs who were just game data.
But I wasn’t a pervert who enjoyed watching my opponents suffer.
I knew how terrible the pain of dying from blood loss was.
Shooting him with a gun to kill him instantly was... my way of being considerate.
Click.
As I cocked the revolver's hammer, Red Beard, seemingly anticipating his end, smiled wryly and said to me, "Heh... I struggled and endured well all my life, but this is how it ends."
"..."
"Can I know your name? I'd like to know the name of the one who killed me before I go to hell."
Red Beard's face was filled with cheerfulness as he said this.
It was an expression unbelievable for someone facing death.
As I smiled back and opened my mouth...
"Don't think about wasting time unnecessarily."
"...What?"
"Your daughter... and the families of other gang members, you're trying to buy time for them to escape, right?"
"..."
The smile disappeared from his face.
Then, with desperation in his face, he pleaded with me, "...Don't kill the women and children. We committed all the wrongs. Their only crime is being our wives and children."
"..."
As I said earlier, I wasn’t a pervert who received pleasure from someone's pain.
As my own principle... I didn't shoot ordinary NPCs who weren't outlaws.
But...
"...The money you stole from the bank."
"..."
"Where is it? If you tell me, I'll spare the women and children."
Their existence became an excellent threat.
At my threat, Red Beard's expression became genuinely detached, and he spoke as if reciting, "...If you go diagonally from here a bit, there's a building with red bricks."
"Ah, next to that weapons storage? I think I saw it. But when I looked earlier, there was no cash."
"...If you lift the floor carpet, there's a basement door, and when you open that door, there's quite a large hole. It's a space we discovered by chance. We put the money in there."
Judging by Red Beard's expression, it didn't seem to be a lie.
I nodded and asked something I was curious about, "Speaking of weapons. How do you have so many weapons for just a gang? Were you soldiers?"
"...We were soldiers. Until nine years ago."
Nine years ago... that was when the Civil War ended.
"...American Confederate Irish Free Regiment. Most of our gang members were my comrades."
The American Confederacy meant the Southern Confederacy that supported slavery.
After the Civil War ended, many Southern soldiers became outlaws.
It seems Red Beard was one of them.
"Must have been tough."
"...Yeah."
Irish immigrant Southern soldiers, called crackers and ostracized.
They didn't become outlaws for no reason.
Losing the war, they probably had many stories.
Of course, that didn't mean Red Beard and his gang were pitiful.
There was no one living in the West without a story.
"...The past 9 years have been very tough. But somehow, now is the toughest… Won't you send me off quickly? It's hard to breathe because of the knife in my chest."
"Alright."
At Red Beard's request, I raised the gun barrel.
And just as I was about to pull the trigger...
"...Wait."
"What else do you have to say?"
"No, I'm just really curious about the name of the one killing me at this moment of death. Won't you tell me?"
"..."
I was about to tell him my real name at his request, but...
"...Kid."
I ended up telling him my nickname and alias.
"Kid. Those around me call me Kid."
Honestly, I didn't think much about revealing the nickname “Kid”.
I just said it thoughtlessly because people around me kept calling me Kid.
But...
"...What? Kid?"
Red Beard's reaction was quite unusual.
"...Kid? You're really Kid?"
"...What, you know me?"
Even if I rampaged like a rascal, I was only a Lü Bu in Justice Town.
For the past three years, I mostly stayed cooped up in Justice Town, just acting as a bounty hunter.
Has my nickname spread to other regions?
As I was tilting my head at this, that was when it happened.
"We were on our way to San Francisco."
"...!"
San Francisco.
As soon as I heard that word, which felt like home, I could feel my expression turning cold.
"...You were planning to join the South Brotherhood."
"That's right. There are plenty of my countrymen in the South Brotherhood. While communicating with them by letter, I heard stories about the one they call Kid."
In contrast to my face growing colder and colder, Red Beard's face was filling with excitement.
"So you're really Kid?"
"..."
"Ahaha! No wonder. If you're Kid, everything makes sense."
His face, which earlier looked tired from worry about his family and the weariness from his painful body, now brightens up.
Like... a child who had actually seen Santa, he got excited.
I...
"What was my bounty again? $1,400? $1,500? Hehe! Compared to a small fry like me...!"
Bang—!
"..."
Quietly silenced him.
"...You talk too much."
"..."
I clicked my tongue, put the revolver I had shot him with into my empty holster, and fell into thought for a moment.
"San Francisco... San Francisco..."
Hearing that name brought back all sorts of memories.
Why did everyone have a few of those? Annoying, shitty memories one didn't even want to remember.
"Geez, this guy was going quietly, why did he have to ask for my name at the end..."
I grumbled while covering his eyes, which he hadn't yet closed.
Then I habitually searched Red Beard's pockets.
Killing an outlaw and searching their pockets was a common habit of all bounty hunters.
"What, nothing much here."
Just as I realized there wasn't much in Red Beard's possessions and was dusting off my hands to get up, that was when it happened.
Rustle—
"...!"
A sudden presence felt from behind tickled my ears.
Click.
I immediately drew my gun and turned around.
But...
"Mr. Noah...! It's me! It's Joe!"
"Ah, Joe."
The one greeting me wasn't an enemy, but Joe.
As soon as I realized it was Joe, I put the gun back in my holster.
Joe, too, only approached me hesitantly after confirming that all the Red Beard Gang members had fallen.
"A-are they all taken care of?"
"As you can see?"
I pointed out the devastating scene, reminiscent of a battlefield, to the hesitant Joe.
There were burn marks and explosion debris everywhere, and pools of blood under the corpses.
But actually, most of this was Joe's work, not mine.
"But Joe. When I signaled, why didn't you detonate the dynamite?"
It was Joe who secretly detonated the dynamite set up in the buildings.
But thanks to Joe not detonating the dynamite immediately, we almost got into big trouble.
"What? I detonated it right away when you shouted, ‘Gal-!!'?"
"Ah, come to think of it, dynamite doesn't explode instantly."
In that case, Joe had sufficiently fulfilled his role.
"I shot some of the fallen gang members who were trying to get up again."
Moreover, Joe had even confirmed kills on the remaining gang members I hadn't managed to shoot.
He essentially proved his worth in bringing him along.
So I patted his shoulder proudly and said, "Well done, Joe. Remember I said I'd properly reward you this time?"
"Yes...! I remember...!"
"I'm sorry for acting like a cheapskate in Justice Town. I promise a really generous reward this time. So clean up the gang members' bodies and organize all their weapons and horses."
"Yes...! Oh... But Mr. Noah..."
Joe was about to excitedly follow my orders but suddenly seemed to realize something and asked me.
"But do I have to do all that alone? What are you going to do, Mr. Noah?"
"Ah... I..."
At Joe's sudden question, I flinched for a moment before hesitantly answering, "...I have somewhere I need to go for a bit."
"..."
As I stumbled over my words, Joe glared at me somewhat suspiciously.
"You're not going to secretly pocket something, are you?"
"You're driving the wagon anyway, how much could I pocket?"
"Ah..."
"Stop with the unnecessary suspicion and go do your work."
I somehow managed to send off Joe, who was still looking at me with suspicious eyes.
And then...
"This is why I hate sharp-witted bastards..."
I secretly moved towards the place Red Beard had mentioned earlier.
— ...If you go diagonally from here a bit, there's a building with red bricks.
— ...If you lift the floor carpet, there's a basement door, and when you open that door, there's quite a large hole. It's a space we discovered by chance. We put the money in there.
Of course, I was planning to keep all that money for myself.