Not being in danger for the first time that day allowed all of Billy's suppressed needs to surge to the forefront. He was hungry, tired, thirsty, and cold, but above all, he was seething with anger. Drinking from the river quenched his thirst, but his rage pushed the other discomforts aside and drove him to trudge toward the town.

Jaw and fists clenched, Billy trudged through the night and into the morning. By the time he reached Blackwater, the sun was high overhead. The town bustled so much that no one noticed him, despite his tattered clothes and the dried blood caking his skin.

The bell over the general store's door jingled as Billy pushed his way in, catching the shopkeeper's attention.

“Wellll shoot, looks like the canyon went about as spected’. Course, I heard you died, so you're looking pretty spritely for a corpse,” the shopkeeper remarked.

“Where did you hear I was dead?”

“That shifty, rat-faced fella was going around telling everyone that a fire golem got ya.”

“Well, that's a lie.”

“Evidently.”

“Although, maybe it's one I wouldn’t mind persisting for a bit.”

“I see. Well, I just so happen to offer disinformation services.”

“Of course you do.”

“Best general store in town.”

“Evidently.” Billy replied dryly. “While I’m here, I’ll need to grab the things I left with you. I could also use a shower, some food, and a place to sleep. And I’d rather avoid the inn so as not to discredit the aforementioned lie.”

“Well, I just so happen to have everything you need. For a price.”

“I figured as much.”

The "shower" was a metal barrel filled with water heated from below by a fire, a primitive setup far removed from the fire crystal-heated showers commonly found in hotels. A lever opened a gate allowing the water to flow through. Despite its rudimentary design and potential for catastrophic failure, Billy considered it the best shower he’d ever had. The hot water washed away the layers of dirt, grime, and blood, along with some of the tension that had built up inside him.

After changing into fresh clothes, Billy collapsed onto a basic cot in a back storage room and asked to be woken up that evening. True to his word, the shopkeeper roused Billy just after sunset. Although his sleep was deep, it felt all too brief. The comfort of the cot beckoned him to stay longer, but his simmering anger propelled him to his feet.

"Let's rustle up some action," Billy murmured to himself through clenched teeth while loading and holstering two spare pistols he had kept at the store and donning a new hat.

Stepping out into the street, Billy kept to the shadows, making his way unseen towards the saloon. He passed by, glancing inside to see if he could spot Oscar or Bob. Noticing nothing from a quick look, he waited until others entered and slipped in behind them.

The saloon was typical, with a long bar along the left wall, a piano at the far end, and five circular tables that could seat about six people each—only three were currently occupied. The far end of the room had a back door and stairs leading to the second floor.

Leaning against the bar near the door, Billy ordered a drink and began scanning the room. Seeing no sign of his targets, he decided to finish his drink slowly and then leave. Just as he set the empty glass down, he heard Bob's distinctive voice entering the saloon.

“Immwas unda fazuun!” Bob declared, eliciting forced laughter from two prostitutes who clearly didn’t understand him. "Looks like someone came into some money," Billy thought as he watched Bob order a round for the bar.

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Amidst the cheers that free alcohol typically elicited, Billy slipped out the doors before Bob could spot him. He headed down the alleyway next to the saloon, which led to the back where the toilets were, and hid in the shadows, knowing Bob would likely come out eventually. The old army maxim, “hurry up and wait,” crossed his mind as he settled in.

After over an hour, just as Billy moved to stretch and get some blood flowing, he felt the cold barrel of a gun press into his back.

“Ya know, when you’ve been sheriff as long as I have, you learn to pick out the troublemakers. And I reckon you look set to make all sorts of trouble,” said a deep voice behind him.

Surprise quickly gave way to anger at himself for letting someone get the drop on him again. His mind scrambled for a solution. Getting arrested was not an option now, but he also didn’t want to kill the sheriff, assuming he could even act before a shotgun blast shredded his spine. He settled on trying to hit the man with a [Lightning Shot] without turning around.

Billy mentally selected the spell, causing a small arc of electricity to dance between his fingers.

The shotgun barrel shifted away from his back. “I see,” the sheriff said “I had hoped you fellas wouldn’t be in my town for a very long time. Can I just ask that whatever you’re here to do, you do it quietly? The people here are good folks and don’t need to get caught up in your kind of business.”

Once again, Billy was caught by surprise. What did that mean? Was he free to go? What did the sheriff mean by “you fellas”? Did he know more people or a group of people that could use magic? Billy forced himself to put those questions aside, and focused on trying to use the situation for his immediate task.

“I’m looking for a man called Oscar, a prospector. You help me find him, and I’ll be out of your town as soon as I can,” Billy offered.

The sheriff clicked his tongue thoughtfully before responding, “Yeah, I reckon I know the one you mean. Came into town yesterday throwing around a lot of cash. Last I heard, he was holed up at Madam Seins's place. I would recommend against trying to take him from there though, because the ladies are well armed and very dangerous.”

“Well, that complicates my ability to do this quietly,” remarked Billy.

“That it does,” the sheriff agreed, clicking his tongue again. “Tell ya what, give me half an hour, and I’ll get him kicked out. I’ll be calling in a big favor from the Madam here, so you need to keep this as quiet as possible and then get out.”

“You have my word,” said Billy, still sceptical of how well this was going.

“That's damn good to hear. I know what a big deal your 'word' is to you lot,” the sheriff said, relaxing slightly.

“Uhh yeah,” Billy replied, feigning understanding, “let’s get this done then.”

Half an hour later, Billy found himself again hiding in the shadows of an alleyway. This time, however, he didn’t have to wait long, as the sheriff was a man of his word. Billy watched as a gigantic bald man walked out of the brothel's front door and hurled a half-naked Oscar a good 20 feet out into the street. Billy made a mental note not to cross the bald man.

“REALLY, JESSICA? REALLY? AFTER ALL THAT I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING. WE COULDA BEEN SOMETHIN'!” yelled Oscar, picking up his clothing and trying to get dressed while stumbling away.

Billy followed him, staying in the shadows. He waited until Oscar passed an alleyway, then grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth and dragging him into the alley. Oscar tried to scream, but Billy clamped down harder and drew a pistol. Once Oscar stopped struggling, Billy pushed him against a wall and leveled the gun at his forehead. Oscar's eyes widened, and a small squeak escaped his lips at the sight of Billy.

“Hello, Oscar. It’s been a minute.”

“B…Billy, how? How are you here? I…I killed you.”

“You’re a worse shot than you thought.”

“No…no, I must be dreaming or something, I killed you.”

Billy slapped him hard enough to make him stumble and fall to the ground.

“Did that feel like a dream?”

As Oscar got up on his knees, Billy could see that he was crying.

“P..p..please Billy. Please don’t kill me. I was only doing what I was told, it was the boss that wanted you dead. Y..yeah, it was the boss. I can help you get him here. I can help you, Billy. I promise I can, just don’t kill me.”

Whether it was genuine or just fantastic acting, Billy believed that the pathetic man in front of him was incapable of planning a murder. Pulling a trigger was one thing, but orchestrating a plan and executing it was another—something Billy felt Oscar was incapable of.

Billy controlled his anger, realizing it would be more useful against the Hog and started trying to figure out how best to take advantage of this situation while also being conscious of Oscars tendency for betrayal.

“Alright, I’ll give you a chance. What's your plan? And remember, if you cross me, I’ll kill you,” Billy said sternly.

“Alright, alright,” Oscar said, a smile breaking through his tears. “That weird crystal we went into the canyon for, I didn’t tell him how much was there. But he’s real interested in it. Said that if I can find any more he'd come personally pay me a fortune. So I tell him I found more, and he comes here. The rest’ll be up to you.”

“How long?”

“Well, last I heard he was in New Orleans, so by the time the message gets to him, then he catches a train and then a carriage out here, it’ll probably be at least a month, probably closer to a month and a half,” replied Oscar.

“We are going to send that message tomorrow. But for now, I’m going to make sure you're looked after,” said Billy, dragging Oscar back to the general store by the scruff of his shirt