Red Dead Redemption 2: From Gaming To Cowboy

He looked around. The saloon was alive with energy, but it was starting to spiral. A couple of ranch hands were getting rowdy near the fireplace, shouting over each other and jostling chairs. One of the working girls was dodging a too friendly hand, and the piano player was glancing toward Mr. Douglas, unsure whether to keep playing.

"Getting a bit outta hand?" Caleb asked.

Mr. Douglas gave him a look that said it all. "They ain't listenin' to me anymore. Think you can do something, Deputy?"

Caleb exhaled and cracked his neck. "Mind if I get on the bar?"

"Be my guest."

He stepped around, hoisting himself up onto the counter with ease. The conversations didn't stop at first, until Caleb let out a whistle sharp enough to slice through the noise.

"Alright! Listen up, you drunken fools!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the saloon. At the same time, he activated his Persuasion skill, letting the subtle ripple of charisma enhancement flow out from his words like heat.

Most heads turned his way. Some of the louder men snorted but quieted under the weight of his tone and the gleam of the badge.

"If you lot don't quiet down and behave, not only am I not startin' the poker tournament, but I will drag every one of you troublemakers to jail. I got a badge now. Don't think I won't use it."

A long silence followed. Then someone muttered, "Sorry, Deputy," followed by others nodding, mumbling apologies, or adjusting their seats.

Mr. Douglas let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned. Looks like you lots are either desperate for the bets or scared of our new deputy here."

Caleb stepped down with a satisfied nod.

"Now then," Mr. Douglas announced, his voice loud and clear, "let's give the man of the hour some space and get this show started. Tables clear! Cards shuffled! And someone brings the buy in box!"

The floor parted like water around Caleb as a table was cleared and a fresh green felt laid down. Wooden chairs were placed and lanterns adjusted for better light. Mr. Douglas personally set a pot of dollar bills and notes in the center, counting the buy ins.

The rules were simple, 20 dollar buy in, single elimination. The winner takes the pot, and bragging rights for the rest of the days until the next tournament.

Caleb sat down, stretching his fingers. Around him, faces old and new joined the table, some familiar card players from the night before, others clearly hoping to make a name for themselves by taking him down. One of them, a wiry fellow with a bent nose and sharp eyes, tipped his hat. "Here to break your streak from yesterday, Deputy."

"We'll see," Caleb said with a smirk, feeling the quiet hum of his Poker (Lvl 3) skill syncing with his past life memories. He could practically see the percentages floating in his vision, tells, bluff signs, odds. The system enhanced what he already knew.

The cards were dealt.

The saloon quieted as the game began.

Three rounds in, and Caleb had already knocked out two players. The sharp eyed fellow folded after a hard read and a calculated bluff, Caleb had bet big on a garbage hand, and it paid off. A subtle nudge from his system helped him recognize the man's nervous thumb tapping, a classic bluff sign.

By the fifth round, the pot had doubled from side bets, and the table had narrowed to three players. Caleb, a traveling gambler with silver cufflinks, and a local ranch hand who clearly didn't know he was in over his head.

The ranch hand lost fast, overbetting on a pair of kings only to find out Caleb had a full house.

The final match was intense. The gambler was good, probably Poker Lvl 3 himself if Caleb had to guess. Their hands matched twice, splitting the pot. But by the end, when Caleb slowly played a flush and baited the gambler into an all in, the saloon exploded again.

"WINNER! CALEB THORNE!" Mr. Douglas roared, slamming his hand on the table.

The crowd whooped and hollered. Some cheered, others groaned, clutching lost bet slips. But no one was angry.

Caleb grinned, letting the feel of victory settle in his chest. He took the pot graciously and shook the gambler's hand with mutual respect.

Mr. Douglas clinked a glass for attention. "Tournament's over for today, folks! Deputy Thorne remains undefeated! Next game's will be announced when it's ready!"

The crowd dispersed, some cheering, others grumbling about lost bets, Caleb counted his winnings, 186 dollars after the buy in. Pretty good for a night's work.

As the tournament dissolved into celebration, Mr. Douglas leaned over and muttered, "You might just become Valentine's own legend at this rate, Caleb."

Caleb laughed. "Long way to go before that. But I'll take the drink now."

The whiskey tasted better with victory.

And as the night deepened, as people sang and danced and shared stories, Caleb Thorne sat in the heart of it all. A deputy, a card shark, a man with a past and a future balanced on the edge of a revolver and a poker chip.

He wasn't sure where it was all heading, but for now? He was winning, figuratively and literally.

After the tournament wound down and the laughter dulled to a warm buzz, Caleb slipped a final sip of whiskey and set the empty glass down with a soft clink.

"Well, Mr. Douglas" he said, adjusting his hat as he stood from the table, "I reckon I oughta call it a day. Been a hell of a night."

Mr. Douglas looked up from where he was still tallying the final side bets, a grin splitting his worn features. "You leavin' already, Deputy?"

Caleb gave a tired nod. "I'm headin' back to the hotel. Reckon if I stay longer, someone's gonna challenge me to arm wrestling, knife throwing, or somethin' dumber. Besides…"

His eyes glanced toward the fireplace, where the same ranch hands from earlier were now sluggishly toasting each other, half their drinks already sloshed down the front of their shirts. "If I wake up tomorrow to news of a late night brawl, I'll be mighty disappointed."

Mr. Douglas chuckled and shook his head. "Don't you worry. After that spectacle earlier, I've gone ahead and paid a few of the sturdier ranch hands to help keep things from boiling over. Anyone starts trouble and doesn't heed my word, they'll be out on their backsides before they can holler."

Caleb gave a nod of approval. "Good thinking. That's why this place's still standing. You've got quite the sense, Mr. Douglas." He extended a hand, and Mr. Douglas took it in a firm shake.

"Don't be a stranger," Mr. Douglas said.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

As Caleb made his way toward the exit, word spread fast. Patrons tipped their hats, clapped his shoulder, or raised their drinks in farewell.

"G'night, Deputy!"

"Hell of a game, Thorne!"

"Come on, sugar, take me with ya," one of the working girls purred, trailing her fingers along his arm.

Caleb chuckled but gently pulled away. "Another time, maybe. But not tonight."

He stepped through the batwing doors into the cool embrace of the Valentine night. The rowdy hum of the saloon faded behind him, replaced by the rustle of wind brushing past the buildings and the soft clop of distant hooves. A lantern flickered above the hotel sign, casting a gentle amber glow across the street.

He walked down the steps and across the road, where Morgan waited patiently, hitched just in front of the hotel. Her black coat glistened under the moonlight, her tail swishing lazily. Caleb reached out, stroking her head with quiet affection.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Morgan responded with a gentle snort and a low neigh, her ears flicking and posture relaxed.

Caleb smiled. "Yeah, I know. You like what I'm doing to you. I will make sure to give you more of it girl."

It was a quiet, grounding moment. Until it wasn't.

A distant shout, angry, frantic, .cut through the silence like a jagged knife. It echoed faintly from the south end of town. A man yelling. A woman crying out. The urgency in their voices turned Caleb's blood cold.

He was already untying Morgan before the second shout pierced the air.

"Let's go!" he snapped, mounting swiftly.

Morgan obeyed without hesitation, her hooves thudding against the dirt as they took off down the street. Caleb leaned forward in the saddle, eyes sharp and senses heightened.

As they approached the livestock pens, the noise grew clearer.

"You crazy bastard, let go of me!" the woman screamed.

"I'll teach you what disobedience means, you little—!"

Caleb turned the corner around a feed building, and that's when he saw them.

A man had a woman by the back of the neck, forcing her face down into one of the water troughs, her arms flailing helplessly. Her dress was soaked, clinging to her body, and she was gasping between ragged splashes.

Caleb's eyes widened with recognition. His Past Life Memory Skill flared to life like a warning bell. This was that encounter. A moment he'd seen back when playing the game. And in the game, if you didn't intervene fast enough, the woman drowned.

Not tonight.

"Hey!" Caleb shouted, yanking Morgan to a halt and leaping from the saddle in a single motion. "What the hell do you think you're doin'? Let her go, now!"

The man looked up, startled, and twisted to face him, still clutching the woman's collar.

"Get away, partner. This ain't your business."

Caleb advanced, hand near his holster but not drawing. "You made it my business the second you laid hands on her. Now let her go, or I swear I'll drop you where you stand."

The man sneered. "I ain't afraid to get blood on my hands."

He released the woman, who collapsed coughing beside the trough, and lunged at Caleb with a wild punch.

But Caleb was faster.

He ducked under the blow, stepped into the man's space, and drove his knee hard into the man's gut. The air whooshed from the attacker's lungs, and before he could recover, Caleb delivered a brutal uppercut. The man's head snapped back, and he crumpled like a sack of flour onto the dirt.

The woman scrambled away from the trough, coughing and wheezing. Her lips were blue, but she was alive.

"Oh God…" she rasped, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Thank you… thank you, Deputy. That bastard… he can rot in hell."

"You're alright now," Caleb said, crouching briefly to help steady her. "Go on. Get yourself somewhere safe. Maybe the doctor'll look you over."

She nodded, still gasping. "I… I'll go. Thank you. Truly."

Caleb turned back to the unconscious man and stood.

"Now to deal with you."

He walked to Morgan and retrieved his rope. With practiced hands, he tied the man's wrists and ankles, then hoisted him over Morgan's back like a sack of grain.

The man groaned faintly, but Caleb gave him a light smack on the back of the head.

"Quiet, scum."

Morgan didn't flinch from the extra weight. She trotted easily as Caleb led her back through the now mostly empty street toward the Sheriff's Office.

Inside, the lamps were still burning. Sheriff Malloy looked up from behind his desk, where he was jotting notes on some parchment.

"Deputy Thorne," he said with a raise of an eyebrow. "Bringing me a gift this late at night?"

Caleb nodded grimly. "Caught this piece of trash trying to drown his wife in the livestock pens. Had to knock him out."

"Son of a…" Sheriff Malloy stood and came around the desk. "That's Henry Kershaw. Been warned before, but his wife never comes forward to say anything. Guess it got worse."

"It did. He ain't gonna be bothering her again tonight."

Sheriff Malloy helped Caleb carry the man into the holding cell and dump him onto the cot. "You got a good eye, Deputy," Sheriff Malloy said as he locked the cell. "And good timing. You keep pullin' nights like this, I might just ask you to become permanent deputy and then replace me to run this office for me while I retire early."

...

Name: Caleb Thorne

Age: 23

Body Attributes:

- Strength: 7/10

- Agility: 6/10

- Perception: 8/10

- Stamina: 7/10

- Charm: 5/10

- Luck: 6/10

Skills:

- Handgun (Lvl 2)

- Rifle (Lvl 2)

- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)

- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl 1)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)

- Sneaking (Lvl 2)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)

- Poker (Lvl 3)

- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)

- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)

- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)

- Bow (Lvl 2)

- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)

- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)

- Crafting (Lv1)

- Persuasion (Lvl 2)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

Money: 1454 dollars and 82 cents and 2 gold nuggets

Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets