As night fell, the town was shrouded in a deep, hazy blue. The distant wilderness carried the howling of cold winds through the cactus, while the only light in the town center still came from Boss Nate's tavern, which never closed.
Sean fastened the old vest—its white wash barely visible, yet impeccably smooth—its folds barely perceptible. He adjusted the collar one last time in the mirror. His gaze now glinted like a newly sharpened blade, cold and calculating. Though his pockets remained empty, the air of strategic composure he exuded was enough to bolster his confidence.
He needs more intelligence.
In the battlefield of law, information gap is the highest level of slaughter tool.
When the spring-loaded wooden door of the tavern was pushed open again, the cacophony of chatter and laughter fell silent for a brief moment. The crowd stared at Jack—the man with his slicked-back hair and fiery eyes—as if he were a stranger. Ignoring the curious gazes, Sean strode straight to the counter and sat down at his usual spot, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Boss Nate was busy dealing with a stubborn wooden plug when he looked up at Sean, his hand slowing down by half a beat.
"Hey, isn't this the lawyer who's supposed to fix my piano?" Nate shot him a sidelong glance, his tone still sharp but now tinged with suspicion. "With your hair done and beard trimmed, you look like a proper gentleman. So, you're here to settle the score again?"
"Net, let's move on to something more valuable," Sean said, hands folded on the bar counter, leaning forward with a low, magnetic tone. "I want to hear the full story about Smith and Matthew's conflict. The more details, the better."
Boss Nate froze for a moment, then dropped the bottle in his hand and stared at Sean like he was looking at a monster. "Have you been practicing some mind-reading in your room these past two weeks? Or is Lucy that girl just too talkative?"
Sean raised his eyebrows in a noncommittal manner.
Nett sighed, fished out a clean glass from under the counter, and for once poured a small glass of unwatered whisky for Sean.
"You're lucky," Nate muttered, wiping his mouth. "Or maybe the whole town thinks you're doomed, so they didn't bother." "Both families came to me," he continued. "Smith's mining crew and Matthew the railroad worker. They had a bloody fight here the night before last. After the fight, both sides privately asked me— 'In town, apart from you... well, apart from you, there's no better lawyer around.'"
Sean sneered, gently swaying the amber liquid in his glass. "They think I'm unreliable?"
"You're talking nonsense. That' herd case 'you filed earlier was nothing but a laughingstock in town," Nate shot him a glare. "But I told them Jack might be slow-witted at times, but he's the only one in this area who's ever read the entire code. Smith's offer? Fifty bucks as a commission if he keeps the mine entrance. Matthew's even tougher—he's got the railroad's backing. As long as the tracks follow the approved route, the money's guaranteed."
Nett tapped the table, his expression turning grim. "Jack, this is a complex issue. The mining guild backing Smith and the Union Pacific Railway supporting Matthew are both ruthless predators. Both sides are vying for the 'priority rights' to that land. I saw your deathly expression earlier and feared you'd be thrown into the White River to be eaten before you even stood trial, so I didn't mention it."
Sean raised his glass and drank it in one gulp. The pungent alcohol slid down his throat, further stimulating his brain.
Fifty dollars? That was a fortune in 1885, enough to let him leave the town with dignity. But to Sean, the real gold was in those two fat sheep.
"Nett, thank you for the whisky," Sean stood up, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "I understand the whole story. Smith wanted the mining rights, Matthew wanted the road rights, but they both missed the core legal principle—when land records are in disarray, the one who can interpret them holds the land rights."
"Which side do you want to stand on?" Nate asked.
Shawn walked to the doorway, gripping the doorknob, and turned around with that trademark smile that had sent chills down the spines of countless tycoons in 2026.
"Which side do you want to take? Nate, you still don't know enough about lawyers."
Sean yanked open the door, and a cold wind rushed in. His voice sounded icy cold in the wind.
There is only one possible outcome: I will prevail. As for the two families involved, the one who offers the most favorable terms to secure greater benefits will be the sole survivor in this strategic contest.
As Sean's retreating figure disappeared into the distance, Boss Nate stood motionless behind the bar for a long while. He had a hunch that the man who had just walked out was not the Jack he had watched grow up, but a top predator emerging from the depths of hell, clad in Jack's flesh.