Chapter 27 - First Kill

"Sheriff! Thanks to you, I'm alive! Thank you!"

"Sheriff!!"

Having become the hero of the train, I was bothered by people recognizing me wherever I went.

I found such people very burdensome...

"Sheriff...! You may not remember, but you saved my life earlier in the second-class car. It's a very small amount, but please accept..."

"No, haha! You shouldn't have!"

...but not entirely.

I quickly pocketed the envelope of money given by the well-dressed gentleman and shook his hand.

"Everyone! I'll take responsibility for protecting this train until we arrive in San Francisco!"

"Woooahhh!"

Having become the train's idol like that, I was finally able to shake off the people and return to our compartment.

Creak—

Extremely tired, I jumped straight into bed and spoke to Emma, who was already sitting on the compartment sofa.

But...

"Phew, today was tough. Good job, Emma."

"..."

"...?"

Emma didn't respond even when I spoke to her.

At first, I thought she was reading a book, but she wasn't.

Emma was just staring blankly into space.

Finally realizing why Emma was so depressed, I poured some whiskey that was already provided in our first-class compartment into a glass and handed it to her.

"Want a drink?"

"..."

From last time, I knew Emma wasn't used to alcohol and was weak to it.

Nevertheless, Emma took the glass I offered.

Glug.

I filled my glass with whiskey too and clinked it with Emma's glass.

"Cheers."

As I said a short toast, Emma responded with a slightly sharp reaction.

"...What are we toasting to? Is it congratulations for successfully eliminating the train robber gang today?"

"..."

"...Ah."

Emma soon realized she had reacted sensitively and covered her mouth with her hand, then...

"...I'm sorry, Boss."

She bowed her head to me with an apologetic face.

Seeing Emma like this, I smiled and answered, "I was going to toast to welcome you to the true West."

"...The true West, you say? Ah..."

The reason Emma was sensitive now was probably because of her first kill she experienced earlier today.

Whether the opponent was an outlaw or a villain.

Taking someone's life wasn’t an easy thing.

But that difficult thing happened every day in the West.

Shooting before the other person shoots, killing before the other person kills you...

That was the true West.

Emma nodded as if understanding the meaning of my words and muttered, "The true West... Yes, this is what the West was like. A place where I might die if I don't kill... I expected it, but it's a bit... overwhelming."

"..."

It seemed Emma's mental state wouldn't recover easily.

This is a bit troublesome...

In fact, this train robbery was just a taste of the West.

The place we were going to now was several times rougher than this.

Many people believed that San Francisco, the largest city in the West, would be the safest place in the West, but this was wrong.

In fact, the current San Francisco was a den of evil itself.

Going to such a San Francisco with Emma in her current state would only be a burden.

So I had no choice but to...

Swish—

I approached the sofa where Emma was sitting and carefully opened my mouth.

"...Is killing someone that hard?"

"..."

"Well, I was like that at first too. Even if the opponent is a bad guy, it's really tough the first time you kill someone."

"...!"

As I talked about myself a little, Emma flinched and asked with surprised eyes.

"...Boss, too."

"...Hmm?"

"Have you ever had a hard time dealing with outlaws too, Boss?"

"...Huh?"

"...No, it's just that you kill outlaws so easily."

"..."

So did she think I was some kind of psychopath who couldn't feel emotions?

As I stared at her intently with that meaning in my eyes, Emma bowed her head and apologized.

"...I'm sorry."

"...It's fine."

After accepting Emma's apology, I fell into reminiscence for a moment.

When I first entered this damn Western game, I was 6 years old.

And... my first kill happened when I was 6.

"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”.

"Ah, don't look at me with such strange eyes. That bastard really deserved to die. That crazy bastard beat me, a 6-year-old downy kid, until I was nearly dead."

When I first entered this game in 6-year-old Noah's body, I was very confused.

But before I could adapt to this world, my father beat me every day.

Not simple discipline or loving punishment, but to vent his anger.

— Ah fuck! Why don't you just run away like your mother? Why are you still here being a nuisance, damn it!

My father was the owner of a local bar's host bar and a male prostitute who sold his body for one night to rich married women.

Whenever he was dissatisfied with his tips or had no work, he would beat me to vent his anger.

At that time, I was very young and much smaller than my peers, so every day my father raised his fists, I would black out.

But that day was different from usual.

— Wait... wait... guhk... I can't... breathe... ugh...

Hit in the solar plexus by my father, I couldn't breathe as if my throat was blocked.

The world looked red... it felt like I was about to die.

"But that bastard of a father didn't stop punching. That's when I saw it… My father's revolver placed on the table."

The only thought in my mind at that time was that I had to survive somehow.

I threw my body with my hazy consciousness and reached out to grab the gun.

And then...

"Bang."

"..."

"Even though it was the first time I ever shot a gun, it hit my father's heart accurately."

That was how my father died.

— Ah... aah...

That was my first kill, and I immediately ran out of the house and started running somewhere.

I had no strength in my body from not eating, and my feet were bleeding, but still, I didn't stop.

...Because it felt like something was chasing me from behind.

Because it felt like whatever was chasing me would catch me and judge my crime at any moment.

I couldn't stop.

Running through the wasteland all night like that...

When I finally collapsed with all my strength drained...

— Who are you? What are you doing collapsed here alone?

...I met that child.

"..."

That was where my reminiscence ended.

It was a really shitty memory even looking back on it.

When I finished the story, Emma was watching me with an expression I had never seen before.

And...

Grip.

At some point, she was holding my hand.

"...Hmm."

"..."

Feeling awkward at the suddenly changed atmosphere, I quickly pulled my hand away and explained why I bothered to tell this fucking story.

"...So, the reason I told you this story."

"..."

"...Many people living in the West have such shitty first experiences. Yet the reason they live holding guns in this damn West is because of their goals."

"Goals...?"

The experience of killing someone to survive was truly shitty.

The reason many people in the West stayed here despite experiencing such shitty things was because of their goals.

For some, it was money, for some, it was honor, for some, it was family.

My goal was to go home.

I had endured the fucking Wild West for 17 years with the goal of logging out of this game and returning to the original world.

"Emma, you have a goal too, don't you?"

"..."

"Try to endure this rough Western life thinking about that."

Emma's goal is to travel the wide world someday.

I wanted to give advice to endure this fucking Western life for that dream, which was why I told this story.

But Emma seems to have heard this story differently.

"...I don't want to kill someone for my goal."

"Hmm?"

"Instead..."

Just as I was tilting my head at Emma's unexpected answer, that was when it happened.

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the door, and when I turned my head...

"Um, can I come in...?"

"You're..."

The little girl I saved earlier in the day was peeking her head in.

"What are you doing at this late hour... well, come in."

Blinking at the sudden visit, I gestured, and the child entered our compartment.

And then...

Bow.

"Sheriff, thank you for saving me."

"..."

She bowed her head to me.

Actually, I didn't really intend to save her...

As I was feeling some strange emotion seeing the child, she turned towards Emma and greeted her.

"Big Sister, thank you for saving me too."

"..."

Watching this silently for a moment, Emma...

Smile.

Smiled in a way she usually doesn't show and patted the child's head.

Emma said while patting the child's head, "At first, the trigger that was so hard to pull became easy to pull when it was time to protect the boss, without me even realizing it."

"..."

"...As you said, Boss, killing someone seems to be a difficult experience. So I don't want to kill someone just for my goal."

Emma's eyes were shining again as she continued speaking, "Instead... I want to shoot for small and precious people like this child or you, Boss."

Wanting to shoot to protect others.

"..."

...The moment I heard those words, I remembered words I had heard from someone in the past.

— ...Shooting someone with a gun is a sad thing.

She, who was as good at handling guns and specialized in killing people as I was, definitely said that.

— So I want to hold a gun for people precious to me, like Kid.

The words she said then and what Emma said now were similar.

Wanting to shoot for others...?

It was the opposite answer to me, who shoots only for myself.

So it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth.

"...Well, if that can be a comfort to you in this fucking Western life, by all means."

Saying that, I looked out the window.

I couldn't see anything because it was night, but I could feel it.

"...We've crossed the border into California. We'll be in San Francisco soon."

I didn't really want to return, but... the largest city in the West that would allow me to go home faster.

San Francisco was getting closer.