Chapter 4: The puppy of Justice Town

In <Lawless>, killing an innocent person puts a bounty on the player.

It’s the same here.

If I accidentally kill an innocent person, I become an outlaw as well.

So, in my 17 years in the West, I’ve established a principle:

If I’m not sure whether my opponent is an outlaw, I won’t draw my gun first.

If I’m certain that my opponent is an outlaw or they draw their gun first, then I will draw mine.

The guy in front of me was clearly an outlaw, but even so, I held back and didn’t draw my gun first, waiting for him.

If I let him draw his gun first, wouldn’t that mean I’d be the one to die?

Here, my trait, [The West’s Greatest Gunslinger], comes into play.

[The West’s Greatest Gunslinger] is a trait that unlocks when you capture 10,000 outlaws in-game.

Given how difficult the unlock conditions are, the effect of the trait is quite significant:

A +100% increase in accuracy and added shooting impact correction.

Furthermore, when a one-on-one duel begins, the user’s body becomes extremely fast, making the surrounding space feel slow to everyone except me.

Pah!

In the West, no one could draw faster than me…

I was the ultimate quick draw.

Click.

While he hurriedly opened his holster, I was already drawing my gun.

Since he had drawn first, it was almost certain he was an outlaw, and even if he were an innocent, I could claim self-defense.

But…

‘Why is this guy so slow?’

This guy.

He was a pathetic outlaw among pathetic outlaws.

Seeing his sluggish movements made me hesitant to shoot; I didn’t want to waste a bullet.

Instead, I flipped the gun upside down and wrapped my hand around the barrel.

And then…

Bang-!!!

“Aaaahhh-!!”

I slammed the grip against his temple.

Every bullet costs money.

I didn’t want to waste any on this pathetic outlaw.

However…

Crack.

“…Huh?”

Hearing something break at first, I wondered if his skull had cracked and turned my head to see…

“Oh no…!!!”

My revolver was disassembling as the screws loosened.

“No!!! My $5 single-action army—!!”

Damn it. I broke a $5 revolver trying to save a few cents on bullets.

Repairing it will cost me around $1-2…

“You bastard.”

“Wait, my head…! My head feels weird…!”

“I’ll make other parts feel weird too.”

Screech-!

Five dollars went down the drain.

It felt like I had lost my vacation reward right before the end of my service.

My heart felt torn apart.

I vented my anger by beating up the outlaw in front of me.

“Wait, I’m sorry…! I’ll give you something instead of my gun…!”

“…What’s your gun? Hey, you bastard. Is it a navy revolver? This is an 1851 model!!! Mine was a hot-off-the-press new model!!!”

“Ugh..! Wait a minute……!!”

Seeing his old revolver only made me angrier.

“Who told you to have such a hard head? It should’ve been your skull that cracked instead of my gun!”

“Aaaahhh-!!”

Ultimately, my anger continued until Emma came out much later to stop me.

“Hmm…, Ah…!”

“Do you know who it is?”

After staring at the guy for a while, Emma finally seemed to remember and handed me a wanted poster from the office.

***

“Marv Merchants. Bounty of $98. He was caught stealing cattle in Texas and fled.”

The first reason I hired Emma is that she’s pretty, and the second is exactly this.

Emma has a good memory.

She can memorize all the sketches and personal details from the numerous wanted posters stacked in my office.

“He’s a colleague of the cattle thief Harry Lime that you caught a month ago. …It took me a while to recall his face because you messed it up so badly.”

“So he’s a colleague of the guy I caught. Is he here for revenge or something?”

“W-Well, that’s right…!!”

As soon as I finished speaking, Marv’s face, which had been messed up, screamed as blood poured from him.

“I-I came to take revenge for Harry!! You bastards…! You put a bounty on me just for stealing a few cows?”

“How many did you steal?”

“The wanted poster says a total of 58.”

“Oh.”

…How did that happen?

To think two people could steal 58 cows… that’s truly insane talent.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s 58 cows or 580! If we hadn’t stolen those cows, Harry and I would have starved to death without any money.”

“Really.”

“Blinded by the bounty, you went after poor us…. You government lackey! Just kill me already!”

Marv seemed already resolved to die as he bravely shouted at me, despite getting beaten up.

But…

“Why would I kill you, buddy?”

I had no intention of letting Marv go easily.

“Look, buddy. I think this: bounty hunters and outlaws who share the line of fire and fight together are friends like no other.”

“…What?”

At my sudden nonsense, Marv looked flustered yet slightly hopeful.

“Marv. Didn’t we just share friendship while aiming our guns at each other? Then we’re friends.”

“So?”

“So, my friend….”

I asked Marv the most important question.

“Where’s the money from selling the cattle?”

“…Huh?”

“No, think about it. If you sold 58 cows, there should be leftover money… where is it?”

Only then did Marv, with a blank face, come to his senses and shouted at me like he was possessed.

“You crazy bastard! Are you trying to extort money from an outlaw right now?”

“Money is just money. Is there a difference between outlaw money and innocent people’s money? Just leave it to me, your friend, and go away light-heartedly since you’ll die in court anyway.”

“You’re talking like a friend…! Why would you be my friend? Get lost!!”

“Not a friend…?”

I immediately pulled a knife from my back pocket.

“If we’re not friends, I have no reason to spare a piece of trash like you.”

Thud.

I plunged the knife into the ground right in front of Marv’s eyes.

If he even moved a little, his gaze would brush against the blade.

“Th-This…!”

Seeing the knife fall right in front of his eyes, Marv’s face went pale.

Noah watched Marv and smiled chillingly.

“Maybe a professor’s execution isn’t such a bad choice.”

“How much pain would it be to have your eyeball gouged out and bleed to death?”

At Noah’s horrific words, Marv raised his gaze with trembling eyes.

Noah was laughing like a madman, as if he found the situation amusing.

“Are you going to torture me or something?!”

“Sorry, but I really need the money, you know? …I can do anything for money.”

Only then did Marv remember what nickname Noah was known by around here.

Puppy Kid, Rascally Kid.

And…

A monster born from capitalism.

I heard that he would do anything to make money.

“Looks like your bad taste is showing again, boss.”

“Yeah, Emma. It might be a horrific sight for a lady, so stay inside.”

Noah said this as he pulled the knife out of the ground.

And then…

Swoosh-.

He moved the blade slightly to aim directly at Marv’s eyeball.

With a sharp blade filling his line of sight, Marv was truly flustered.

‘How painful would it be to have my eyeball gouged out and die from excessive bleeding?’

Of course, it would hurt like hell, damn it!

I’d rather die from a gunshot or be hanged than face such a death.

“Wait a minute…!! I’ll talk! The $10 in my pocket! That’s all I have left!”

“Wrong.”

“W-what?”

“Nope, wrong.”

Noah said this and then raised the knife as if to show there would be no mercy.

“Hey, you bastard! I just told you that’s all I have, who are you to say it’s wrong?!”

“Are you finished talking? Enjoy the last view of the world before you lose your sight.”

“W-wait…!!”

Noah swiftly brought the knife down without hesitation.

Swoosh-!

In that moment, Marv experienced a flashback.

From his troubled childhood to his glorious outlaw days.

His life had been decent enough, yet here he was, going out in pain.

Although money was more important than anything to him as an outlaw… at the last moment, amidst extreme fear, money became irrelevant.

***

“M-my shoelace…!!”

Thud.

As tears rolled down his cheeks, Marv opened his mouth, and only then did Noah stop the knife.

“There’s $50 hidden in the sole of my shoe…!”

“……Only $50? Is that even possible? You stole 58 cows!”

“I spent the rest paying off debts, and that’s all that’s left. I swear…! Please believe me.”

Upon Marv’s heartfelt words, Noah quietly took off his shoes to check the soles.

When he removed the insole, there was indeed $50 hidden there.

Even though the money reeked of Marv’s horrible foot odor, Noah smiled as if satisfied upon seeing it.

“Thanks, buddy.”

Only then did Noah put the knife back into his back pocket.

The smile on his face returned to that of a playful trickster.

I drank a cup of coffee that Emma had brewed, tying Marv securely.

Emma poured coffee into her own cup and spoke to me.

“Your taste for preying on outlaws has not changed at all.”

“Those bastard outlaws are a stubborn lot who value money more than their own lives, so this is how you get them to cough it up.”

This was a lesson I had learned through my own experiences over the past 17 years.

Of course, it wasn’t that I wanted to torment them; it was merely a survival strategy.

“You weren’t really going to gouge out his eye, were you?”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that barbaric. You know that.”

This is a world inside a game.

There is no sympathy for outlaw NPCs.

Still, why would I go to the trouble of gruesomely gouging out an eyeball?

I’m no Huang Zhong.

Clop, clop.

As I was chatting with Emma, I heard a new presence in my ears.

But this time, it was not a person but a wagon.

“I guess they’ve arrived.”

“Is it the sheriff?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

When Emma and I stepped outside the office, we saw a man eagerly approaching us on a wagon.

Of course, he was neither a client nor an outlaw.

Glimmer.

A silver six-pointed star badge reflecting the sunlight from his shirt pocket.

A tanned skin with the stiff demeanor typical of a former soldier. A nearly bald head with a few remaining strands on the sides.

The man driving the wagon was none other than Jet Gray, the sheriff of Justice Town.

Having served as sheriff in Justice Town for 10 years, Jet…

“Kid—!! You’ve caused trouble again, you rascal!!”

…was someone who disliked me very much.

He was the one who gave me the nickname “Kid” because he thought I acted like a child.

Since I arrived in Justice Town three years ago, my reckless behavior led to endless incidents.

From the way he spoke, it seemed like today would be another tiring day, so I sighed and asked Emma.

“Emma, why does that old man dislike me so much?”

“What? Old man? How dare you call the sheriff that!!!”

“Oh dear.”

I was used to talking to Bob in the deaf bar, so I slipped up.

That guy has keen hearing.

“…I think I know why the sheriff dislikes you, boss.”

“He’s definitely jealous of me for being young and having a bright future while he’s old and can’t stand up straight anymore, and losing all his hair.”

“Hey, you punk!”

“Oh dear.”

Oh no, another mistake.

Was Jet really mad, as he rushed at me, scattering what little hair he had left?

“Sheriff, stress and excitement are not good for hair loss and erectile dysfunction. Breathe deeply, breathe deeply.”

“You little brat!!”

I warmly welcomed Jet.