“Oh-ho, look who it is—none other than the pioneer of Lawrence, Kansas, Mr. Cyrus Holliday! We in Missouri welcome the result of this House vote!”When the speaker singled out the young man, all eyes in the square swung to him.Holliday bore the attention calmly and answered.“I’m merely a businessman. I respect the prudent judgment the people of Kansas have made.”“As of course you should. With this, Missouri and Kansas shall prosper together!”“…… Then good day.”Holliday tipped his hat and turned his horse. Out of the crowd’s sight, he pinched his brow and twitched the corner of his mouth.Then his eyes met Max’s for a moment.That was all. The curiosity at an Oriental flickered and went out.Holliday left the square with his party. Max, watching his back, dug through his memory.Cyrus Kurtz Holliday.The man who opened Topeka and made it Kansas’s capital, the capitalist who first laid rail in Kansas.And a supporter of the free state.Holliday’s sour look would’ve been disappointment and anger at this vote’s result.Not a Vanderbilt, but a man who left a name nonetheless.Max weighed the value of Cyrus Holliday—what he might draw from him.Work, money, connections, business.And—He might help smooth things with the Rangers.The California Rangers weighed on Max more with each passing day.By rights, they should have taken down the Five Joaquins and taken the bounty. Unexpectedly, Max had stolen the whole show.They won’t let that slide.But he couldn’t give up the bounty.Even if he had to cut them in, he needed insurance of a sort.How to approach…The square’s speaker puffed up Holliday while in truth sneering at his free-state leanings.Holliday would know it.Not certain, but he might view the situation as dangerous. Hence the ten guards riding with him.Guards, huh…James wasn’t going to shoulder Max’s job prospects. The smithy was small, and Max had no intention of being chained to that work all day.He was looking for something else, and as a first job, “guard” wasn’t bad.Killing a named gang was a fine line on a resume.But if he, an Oriental, went up to the man first,he might not even get a word in.That’s when you needed James.“Do you know anything about Cyrus Holliday?”“No. First I’ve seen him.”“If you mean to settle in Kansas, you want to get close to that man.”“Just look at him—he’s not our kind. Eastern stock, born to money for sure.”“All the more reason to get close.”It sounded like he was speaking for James, but heat rose in Max’s eyes.A hunger to be counted among that kind.“Sorry, but could you put in a word?”“For what?”“To get a job. Just drop one line: there’s a gunman who took down the Five Joaquins.”The California Rangers would’ve heard the rumor anyway—that it was Max Jo, not James, who put down the gang.“Work under Holliday?”“I should do what I’m good at. And working with capital helps in every way.”This fellow—he’s got ambition.The more James learned, the less he could pin Max’s nature.He’d thought mere survival was the goal. Now it looked like he was aiming beyond.At eighteen, a man chases dreams and ideals.But Max looked like a seasoned, failed businessman plotting a comeback.Mary’s constant line popped into his head.— Max is an old man in a boy’s skin, and a slick one.A joke, but not without merit.“As it happens, I was thinking on your job. Good.”“Then don’t stand around. Go before Holliday’s gone.”Mary urged James along, pleased.“Sorry to trouble you.”“Nonsense. I’ll go.”James set off at once, following Holliday as he left the square. ****— Holliday—he’s got a hearty way about him.— How’d it go?— I told him about the gang and he said he must meet you. I told him we’re at the inn, come any time.But Holliday, whom they thought would come quickly, was nowhere for days.All the while, Max stayed with the wagon.Eat and train—build the body back up.Lee Maksan’s body, driven to the brink of starvation, would take no small time to recover.He’d followed James to buy that time in the first place. He poured himself into rebuilding, with no room for boredom.As usual, James brought food,and Max asked after Holliday.“I heard he was in and out of the sheriff’s office yesterday.”“Did he?”What are you up to—being careful, or just suspicious? Or… did you sniff my intent?If he’d been in and out of the sheriff’s, he’d have gathered plenty. He might have caught on that a clash with the California Rangers over the bounty was coming.If he’s that sharp, he’ll be good to work with.Hope stirred, but whatever was in Holliday’s mind remained to be seen.On the third day in Kansas City—“Are you Max Jo?”A group suddenly crowded behind the inn’s barn.The California Rangers.Why are you bastards here first… ****A middle-aged man with long curls and a mustache.Thickset, he fixed Max with a hard stare.I’ll pop those eyes.Plainly the man in charge. First impression, not great.“I asked if you’re Max Jo.”“I am.”An Oriental, skinny as a rail.The Rangers’ captain clicked his tongue when he saw Max and spoke.“So the Five Joaquins got themselves killed by some coolie whelp.”“Looks that way.”“You think that makes a lick of sense, boy?”Max’s hand slid toward his waist and the loudmouth blanched.The Rangers flinched and edged back a step.They spooked.From their reaction, it was clear they’d come on what they’d heard. Their mouths said no; their bodies told the truth.“Slept in a wagon. Lots of bugs.”Max scratched at his waist. The captain’s eyes thinned. He cleared his throat and went on.“I’m Captain Harry Love. I lead the California Rangers.”Hell of a name. Wait… Love?Murrieta, Three-Fingered Jack, and Love…Got it. The Mask of Zorro!In the movie, Zorro is the dead Murrieta’s brother.And he takes revenge on Love…Not that it mattered, but having the villain named Love in the film lent this a creepy resonance.So this bastard is the villain…But Zorro was fiction; in truth Murrieta had no brother.And from what he’d done to the Harris family, Joaquin Murrieta was certainly the villain there.As Max’s thoughts ran,the inn’s bouncer butted in.Smelling a chance, he asked Harry Love,“Did this Oriental bastard cause trouble?”“Not your business.”Love pushed his coat aside to show his gun.The dark, burly men behind him radiated killing intent that wasn’t just for show.What dragged the California Rangers all the way out here…The bouncer rolled his eyes and lifted his hands.“Whoa there, easy. I just don’t want any trouble at the inn.”“Then back off.”The bouncer sidled away,but didn’t leave—he watched from the corner.They’re from California; guess they came to take him in.But what Love said next broke his expectation.“Max Jo, your name’s spread all up and down the Oregon Trail.”“Has it.”“They say you took the Five Joaquins by yourself.”Hii—The bouncer’s eyes bulged; he sucked in a gasp.Max spoke.“They came in throwing weight. I put them down.”“Then why put another man up front? For the bounty?”“I’m not a U.S. citizen. Not yet.”“That’s all?”“Can’t think of another reason.”Love’s eyes narrowed.But with his drooping lids, he looked more sleepy than sharp.He flicked a glance at the bouncer.“How long are you going to stand there?”The other Rangers glared too.Feeling the air turn, the bouncer scuttled into the inn.Once he was gone, Harry Love spoke to Max again.“You know the Rangers were formed to take the Five Joaquins?”“Hard to say.”“We busted our asses three months on their trail. Took two of them out; when we near had Murrieta himself, you stole it.”“Unlucky for you that he came to me.”“You should’ve just died.”Brazen stupidity, said straight-faced.“You turned our work to foam. You’ll answer for that.”“I’m not much good at raising the dead.”Love snorted a laugh.“If you can wisecrack now, you’re no ordinary pup. You’re not like the dirty, stupid Chinamen in California.”“I’m from Joseon.”“Joseon, is it… wherever. You will disappear.”“You think that gets you paid?”Love’s mouth curled. He signaled a man, who hauled a bundled sack from a horse’s rump and untied it. A big liquor jar came out.Inside were Murrieta’s head and hand.Jesus—So they’d already been to the sheriff’s, confirmed the bodies, and taken the cut.“Give it ten years soaking—imagine the taste.”Love licked his lips at the jar.He’s insane.Max kept his face even and spoke.“Showing me that—think the California legislature pays you the bounty?”“When the beneficiary dies, the party who recovers the remains takes it. Or we put up some Oriental who looks enough like you.”“So you mean to kill me?”“Well now… think I’ll stop at just you?”Love’s smile went slick.He’d put James up front; now the man was marked for murder along with him.Those drooping eyes weren’t laziness—they sagged under greed and appetite.No wonder he’s the villain in Zorro.But if he’d come to kill, he wouldn’t be showing jars and jawing. Coming broad daylight meant murder was a later option.What the California Rangers wanted was—To cut a deal with me.If he took the whole bounty, their grudge would scrape the sky. Later might be later; right now, making enemies was stupid.Decision made, Max spoke evenly.“The legislature isn’t made of fools. They won’t pay without an inquiry. Even if they do, it won’t meet your hopes.”“What do you know about a legislature, pup?”“In any country, the hand that pays is stingy. Desk men, guarding money that isn’t theirs, scheming how to spend less.”Love snorted.But inwardly, he agreed.Fuck those assembly bastards.Max spoke again.“Well then—give me the options.”How much do you want.Their eyes locked.“Quick on the uptake. Then give up the bounty.”“All of it?”“I’ll give you three hundred dollars.”“A tenth? That’s greedy.”“We’ve got a lot of mouths.”Those mouths were glaring at Max ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) like they’d eat him.“Clean and simple: I’ll give you five hundred. That’s me yielding plenty.”“Yielding?”Faces went incredulous. A few hands fondled guns, eyes turning mean.“I thought you had sense. You’re a fool.”“Foolish? As you can see, I’ve got nothing to lose.”Show your belly and men like this only bite harder.You show them you’ll run straight even if it kills you today.“And tell me—do the California Rangers get to commit murder in Missouri?”“No one cares if an Oriental dies.”“You sure you can kill me without dying first?”“What?”To Love’s scoff, Max spoke in a chill voice.“Did Murrieta and Three-Fingered Jack die on the shitter? I’ve got six bullets.”“So you’ll fight us?”“I can take six with me. Where to?”He slid his eyes upward, a flick of the chin.“Up there…”From here and there among the Rangers came a ripple of “fuck,” a hiss of oaths.But no one drew first.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.