Davey rushed outside immediately—he couldn't risk anyone, whether a passerby or a stranger, discovering the place.
As soon as he reached the cellar entrance, he saw someone galloping away on Mac's stolen horse.
The noise from earlier had come from the thief's escape.
Without hesitation, Davey swung onto his horse and gave chase.
In the pale moonlight, he could see the rider clearly—well-dressed, likely Edmund himself.
Though a serial killer, Edmund was no fighter. He preyed on the helpless, striking only in secret.
In riding skill, he was no match for Davey.
Within moments, Davey was close enough to fire.
Draw. Shoot. Headshot.
That was the precision of a master gunslinger.
Behind him, Mac followed on John's horse.
"Damn bastard—he stole my horse!"
Fuming, Mac dismounted and kicked the corpse several times to vent his anger.
"This must be that psycho killer, Edmund," he said.
Davey glanced at the body—his appearance matched perfectly with the character from the game's story.
"Alright, gentlemen. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."
The cellar clearly needed some renovation before it could be used. Mac hauled the corpse and tossed it off a nearby cliff, and the three of them headed back.
"Davey, are you really planning to leave the gang?"
John, who had been quiet ever since they left the burned-out town of Limpany, finally spoke.
The day's events had left him reeling.
They had set out under the pretense of debt collection, but from the moment they met the fake medicine peddler, things had taken a very different turn.
At Wróbel's ranch, Davey hadn't come to collect money—he'd been after the man himself.
And now, with the cellar secured, the distiller recruited, and the supply chain in place, Davey had essentially completed every step needed to start his moonshine business.
It was almost unbelievable.
John, who had never been educated, couldn't understand how something as complicated as moonshine production seemed so simple in Davey's hands.
John spoke up, and Mac looked at Davey too.
Though Mac would follow his brother no matter what, even he didn't quite understand why Davey suddenly wanted to leave the gang.
To him, life with the Van der Linde Gang wasn't bad at all.
Up above the cellar, Davey didn't rush to clean up. Instead, he pulled out three cigarettes and handed one to each of them.
John and Mac struck matches to light theirs, but Davey produced a lighter.
"John, Mac—see this lighter? I bought it in Valentine," he said.
"Civilization from the East is spreading across the whole West. This place isn't the wild frontier it used to be."
"The age of cowboys is coming to an end. It's an unstoppable tide of history, and anyone who tries to fight it will be crushed."
"Look at Dutch now—what's he doing? Every day, it's just robbery after robbery. Has he ever thought about living a peaceful life?"
"To hell with Tahiti and his damn mango farm—that's just an excuse. I'm done running with him."
"Times have changed. There are better ways to make money now than waving a gun in people's faces."
"Especially you, John—you've got Abigail and little Jack. Do you really want them living this kind of life forever?"
Davey's words were aimed squarely at John. Mac, being his brother, would follow him regardless.
John was moved, but still said, "Dutch has a plan. Once we sell the bonds, he'll take us away. Then we'll finally be free."
"Davey, you should trust him. After all these years, only Blackwater went wrong."
Clearly, John thought Davey's mistrust came solely from the Blackwater fiasco.
"No, it's not just that. We've angered powerful men. The Pinkertons are already closing in. It's only a matter of time before they find us."
"Then what? We'll just keep running. You'll see—Dutch will only get more reckless."
Davey didn't expect to change John's mind right away. He was just planting the seed.
The key would be Abigail—her words would reach John far deeper than his ever could.
John looked conflicted. He wanted a peaceful life, but his loyalty to Dutch wouldn't let him betray the man who'd raised him.
"Davey, I'm sorry. Maybe you're right... but I can't turn my back on Dutch," John said quietly.
"I won't tell him about your moonshine plans, though."
Davey nodded. "Alright, John. I trust you."
Then it was time to get to work.
With no one else to rely on, Davey had to do everything himself.
Fortunately, all three of them were strong and capable.
After working through most of the night, they finally cleared the cellar.
Once they tore down the wooden partitions, the space felt much larger.
But the heavy stench of rot still lingered—it would take days to fade.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser