The armory also contained twenty-four signal flares. No wonder the commander had used them so freely.
With his expanded storage, Henry also took the liberty of collecting various tools and supplies: shovels, daggers, clothing, skis, raincoats, blankets, and kerosene.
The smaller warehouse held the real treasure: sixty 1,000-ounce silver ingots and six hundred 1,000-ounce copper ingots.
At the current price of $1.12 per ounce, the 60,000 ounces of silver were worth $67,200. The copper was worth another $17,000.
He had struck it rich. His net worth had just increased by more than fifty percent.
All this late-night overtime was worth it, he thought, happily storing the ingots.
He went to the smelting room, placed a 50-pound TNT charge with a 15-second fuse in the center of the room, and fled.
BOOM!
By the time he reached the ruined main gate, the entire smelting room had collapsed behind him.
He walked up the slope and began the task of collecting the ninety-six bodies from the previous battle. He also put the twelve horses with broken legs out of their misery and stored their carcasses. He now had enough pearl husks to store the thirty-eight remaining McKinley warhorses, and he did so. They were all branded, so he couldn't use them openly, but they would serve another purpose.
With fifty horses in his space, he could create his own personal relay system. A horse can't maintain a full gallop for long, but he could ride one at sixty kilometers an hour for ten minutes, then instantly swap to a fresh mount. He could cover five hundred kilometers in just ten hours. In an age without cars, that kind of mobility was a formidable advantage.
When his work was done, he left. He had no interest in the residential area. His fight was not with ordinary people. He had struck at the McKinleys for his own self-preservation and to further his own goals. Eliminating their leadership and their military strength was enough. The jackals would do the rest, tearing the weakened family apart.
His conscience was clear. He was no bloodthirsty monster. He simply did what had to be done.
He retrieved the horse he had ridden in on and, under the light of his lantern, rode back toward Frisco.
A lone rider, galloping under a faint starlight across the vast, ancient lands of the West. The feeling of untamed wilderness was overwhelming. One man, one horse, one lantern.
He was lost in the romantic desolation of the moment when his horse suddenly shied. He looked up. Fifteen pairs of green, malevolent eyes stared back at him from the darkness.
Wolves.
He knew, with absolute certainty, that they would soon be dead wolves.
A "One of One Thousand" Winchester appeared in his hands. He opened fire. At this range, even from the back of a galloping horse, he didn't have to aim for the head. He wouldn't miss.
The roar of the rifle echoed across the plains.
Nine seconds later, he stored the rifle and continued his ride.
Behind him, fifteen pairs of green eyes were extinguished forever.
He arrived home around 10 PM. He laid out two thick blankets on the living room floor and began the mechanical, two-hour-long process of looting the bodies he had collected.
The cash income was an additional $4,253.60. His arsenal of weapons and ammunition had been massively restocked. He now had forty-eight warhorses at his disposal.
His progress bar now read Level 3, 4.78%. He had 110 grey pearls, 86 white, and 5 green, along with a host of empty husks. Two of the green pearls and two of the white pulsed with the light of skills and talents.
His total pearl energy was now equivalent to 590 grey pearls, enough to upgrade another talent.
He went into the ground-floor storeroom, locked the door, and used the four new skill-bearing pearls.
Instantly, the warm current washed over him. He was flooded with new experiences: the ingrained etiquette of a nobleman, the instinctive skill of a master archer, and the practiced confidence of a billiards champion who dominated every saloon he entered. And beneath it all, the phantom memory of a body that was simply stronger, more powerful than other boys.
Six minutes passed. Three new skills appeared on his panel: Noble Etiquette LV 3, Archery LV 3, and Billiards LV 4, which overwrote his previous LV 1 skill. He had also gained a new talent: Divine Strength LV 1, which granted him a permanent twenty percent increase in physical strength.
The Noble Etiquette would be useful for navigating high society. Archery was a fine skill, though he had little use for it at the moment. The strength talent, however, was excellent. He flexed, and felt a surge of immense power coiling in his muscles.
He considered his three upgradeable talents: Divine Strength, Agility, and Super Reflexes. The choice was obvious. In the game, the signature skill was "Dead Eye"—the ability to slow time and mark targets for a rapid-fire assault.
He already had the equivalent of thirty grey pearls' worth of energy stored in the panel from previous infusions. He only needed another 370.
He focused his mind. Use seventy white pearls and twenty grey pearls. Upgrade Super Reflexes.
The light flowed into the panel, which then pulsed, shooting a beam of milky-white energy into his body.
Two minutes later, the upgrade was complete. Super Reflexes LV 2. When focused, his reaction speed was now ten times that of a normal human.
He awoke at 6 AM. He packed some clothes into a 26-inch suitcase and went to Linda's. After breakfast, he told her he would be back in an hour, then left with the dog, Paul.
In a blind alley behind a neighboring house, he infused a grey pearl husk into the dog and stored him away.
Then, he walked to the Sheriff's office to begin the day.