Oh. I didn't see ya there. I suppose you saw that this story was a system apocalypse. You had your own ideas of some city boys with axes and stats in a more modern setting.

If that's what you're looking for, well, you can put your sorry weakass out while you still can. This is not that story. There are no meaningless high numbers. No cultivation. There are other races. There are skills.

Still here? Thought I got you to storm off. Guess I'm a damned fool if I thought that would work.

Well, make yourself at home by the fireplace. It's warm and it will stay warm for a while yet.

Let me tell you a story. The year is 1876, the system appeared only 40 years prior. An era that should have only been a myth became real. America became a collection of city states and outside the cities only the lawbringers brought civility.

Monsters roamed the wilds. Humans and other races barely kept from shootin one another. War was just one step away. All feared the bandit lord Billy the kid.

This tale I tell ya follows the tragic tale of Annie oakly. A woman with just her gun and an iron will. It is the tale of the charlatan Wyatt Earp.

So settle down. Get yourself some coffee. Comfortable? Good. It all begins…

……

Annie had buried her ma and pa Under an old oak tree. Her parents had been buried under the same tree not more than 4 years prior. A monster attack had seen to that. Now. Now she buried her husband under that same tree. A man who had been loved by the people. Who had respected her love of shooting and had taken her from city state to city state for the shooting competitions. She'd won every single one. Earning the nickname Crack shot Annie.

had been a hard winter, and like happened to many folks Sickness had taken to her town like deer to a lake. It had not been pretty. Even now she shuddered at the memory of watching her husband babble nonsensically as his life Left his lungs.

She was a level 15 [Sharp Shot]

Now? Now she almost hated her class. Why couldn't she be a [Doctor] Or even a [Nurse]. She would have even taken the [Witch] Class if it could have saved her husband. Yet, That Was the past. The tears had been shed. Now was Time to move on.

So, she buried the body a wave of fresh tears washing down her face as she thought about how he deserved a proper burial. One with a priest, but the priest was dead. Died like all the rest with The withering destroying him from the inside out.

She knew she oughta burry the other townsfolk but she Hadn't the heart for it. Not after…. Him. Not after burying the man she loved for nearly 2 years now.

She had gotten withering herself but Her level had kept her alive. like All disease The withering could be resisted if you had a high enough level. Issue was most people were below 10. That meant most people died.

Even Annie Hadn't had an easy time of it. She'd been bedridden for a few days before Her husband had caught the disease himself.

“What am I supposed To do? God, why'd you take him from me!!!??” She screamed up at the very heavens themself. They offered no reply and Annie Knelt in the ground with great choking sobs. It went like that for hours before Annie gor back up.

She looked at the dead town. Her town. Now as much a corpse as the bodies She knew to be In the wooden houses all around her. She listlessly made her way to her house. Once it had been her Ma and Pas's place. She'd payed off their mortgage with the xp She'd earned from her competitions. It had been passed down to her In the will. She opened the door to the cozy little Home.

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It was mostly just a living room and 2 bedrooms to sleep in. The living room was decorated with a few expensive sofas having cost Annie a few thousand xp each. A saberwolf pelt sat in front of the everflame Fireplace.

She had killed the saber wolf herself as it had hurt little Jessie. She'd always been fond of the girl and Annie was grateful that the Marylands had moved on to one of the city states before the illness hit.

A kitchen was placed Just to the right of the living room stocked lightly with food but It wouldn't even last the summer Much less winter. The fact was outside of shooting, riding, and hunting Annie wasn't much good. She could survive for sure. It would just be one hell of a struggle.

She opened up her status screen and a panel Full of text opened up.

Displayed Name: Annie Oakley.

Maiden name: Phoebe Ann Mosley.

Level: 15

Class: sharp shooter

Xp: 500/2000

Skills: [Charged Shot] [Hunting] [Ricochet] [Piercing Round] [Quick reload]

Racial skills: N/A

Racial level: 0

Racial grade: F

She figured she had more than enough xp to get started up in a city. She could probably sign up for some low stakes shooting competitions. She just knew she couldn't stay. The town was a tomb and it was best left to rest.

It was as she was packing things Into a potato sack she'd found that She happened upon an advertisement now a few months old.

“Seeking brave souls! The Lawbringers guild wants you! Wanna protect the Innocents? Want a job you can be proud of?

Join today.

Minimum level requirement: 15.

Visit a guild office in Alamo, Boston, or New York to Sign up.

Restrictions: non. accepting All genders, colored, and species.

Annie left that town With a potato sack of food. a gun at her hip. a rifle In its harness. A Purpose in her heart as she made for the long trek to Alamo City.

…..

Wyatt stepped into the rickety old bar. It was a dubious establishment with stained floors, Old Wooden walls with cracking Paint, and a clientele that All seemed to be bearing scars of some kind or another.

It was not his usual pick of a bar as he much prefered the taverns of the inner City. Still, he had a job to do. So he sauntered over To a nearby seat and hailed the bartender.

“What brings A lawman?” The gruff voice of the Bartender stated As he laid eyes on Wyatt. The Bartender was a gray skinned orc with a large build and a protruding Gut Making it clear he sampled his own supply.

“Whiskey. Looking for someone willing to pay a Decent amount of xp if you have any information.”

The bartender pointed towards a sign that listed the various prices. Whiskey as it turned out cost 10xp. Cheap for Wyatt, not so much for the average man. He paid the price and was rewarded with a brown liquid that burned his insides as it went down.

“Might be. Depends on who your Looking for.” The orc replied.

“Oh no one special. Just a Hob, goes by the name Rucer.”

The moment Wyatt uttered that name all sound in the bar stopped. Good Wyatt thought. The Reaction pretty much told him everything he wanted to know. It didn't take long for the patrons to stand up. Each unholstering Their guns.

Wyatt pulled his trusty revolver and fired each round at the closest men to him. A Dwarf and a human. He Missed every Single shot.

Wyatt Despite the legends told about Him was a terrible shot. A drunken man who had been spun around was blind had managed to outshoot him once.

“[Trickster's escape] a shimmering image of Wyatt Appeared where he had been sitting, while Wyatt, invisible to the naked eye, threw himself behind the Bar. The image Was shot full of lead from over 15 Guns before they realized It was an illusion.

Wyatt took the time to light some TNT he kept on him for fighting Groups Like this and threw it towards the crowd. His aim was terrible, luckily explosions still got a few Of them.

He hoped over the counter as the stunned bartender cowered behind it. Knife in Wyatt charged at the Remaining five. [Illusive Movement] causing all the bullets to miss.

He barreled into the dwarf using The forward moment to stab The knife into the dwarfs throat. The blood immediately Started spurting as wyatt pulled the knife out and let the dying Dwarf Fall to the ground.

a Revolver Aimed at him from point blank, but Wyatt sidestepped right As the gun fired and slammed His fist into the gun's owner. Wyatt followed the man and grabbed his arm before slicing the man's Wrist and severing the tendons.

Wyatt kicked the man away from him and fell To the ground just as a volley of Gunfire Erupted Behind him. The 3 remaining men finally geting their bearings. He casted invisibility and slowly crawled his way towards the now Very confused outlaws.

He waited as the trio spread out to look for him. He bided his time for a solid 5 minutes before one moved into a nearby privy just out Of sight of the other men. Perfect.

Wyatt stood up And used [silent movement] to sneak over and snap the poor bastard's neck. That Just left the other two. He dragged the body out and then quickly moved to the nearby Wall.

“Fuck! He got Jarold” one of the nameless goons yelled out before rushing over to check The body. Wyatt Wasted no time and kicked the… Wyatt checked… Orc in the face before grabbing his head and slamming it several times into the wall until the Orc stopped moving.

As he looked up he caught a glimpse of the remaining thug as said thug threw himself out a nearby window and Began Running.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?” a loud tired voice yelled Out. Coming Down a stair wyatt only now noticed.

“W-were you sleeping?” Wyatt asked both amused and appaled. He'd blown a quater of the building. Fought multiple men. Been Shot at. Yet, somehow! He managed to stay asleep through all of that and managed to do so ago.

“Whoosh the hells is yoy?” The Hob replied before falling to the ground. Wyatt Walked over and nudged the mans head with his foot. huh. Wyatt noticed the bottle of whiskey clutched In the hobs hand and put two and Two togethor.

“Well, this is the easiest Bounty I've Ever got.” Wyatt Shrugged. Checked to make sure that the Hob was indeed Rucer. With confirmation Wyatt tied the Hob up and with a loud Shrill whistle called his horse.

It took 5 hours for the Hob To wake. That was after his head was slammed on the ground by An over eager [Jailer].

…..