The Five Joaquins Gang.Dinner fell apart the moment the bastards whose name blackened California and Nevada showed up.“Look at that—some coolie grilling meat in the middle of white folks?”“Didn’t see a freak show like this even in California.”Two of them jeered at Max.Their leader, Murrieta, had eyes only for Mary.He sat beside her and tried to snake an arm around her waist; Mary recoiled in horror and tore free.“You—let go of me!”“These bastards…!”“You shut your mouth.”Thud!One of them kicked James over.“Dad!”Conall started toward his fallen father and caught a boot himself.Mary’s face trembled with fury.“You rotten sons of bitches!”“Didn’t take you for the type, ma’am. If we’re rude, what are you gonna do about it?”Murrieta hooked a finger under Mary’s chin and lifted.“Wanna get it right here, in front of your husband and boy?”“Ugh… l-let go!”Murrieta stared at the shaking woman.Then he eased a knife up to her face.“Night’s just getting started. Look forward to it.”He let go of her cheek roughly with a smirk.Murrieta—wasn’t he supposed to be a famous gunman?Max’s head ran through a dozen simulations.Primary target: the boss, Murrieta.Across the campfire. Distance to target: about one meter.He marked the other two men’s positions; his gaze went flat.Plan locked in, a cold thrill washed through his body. Every cell woke up; his heart rate climbed as he smoothed out his breath.But Murrieta wasn’t ordinary either.Whether instinct or a sense for killing intent, his eyes cut to Max.He raised one corner of his mouth.“Wanna try it?”As if he were looking forward to it, his right forefinger twitched toward his holster.And then—“If you came for meat, eat your meat.”Max pointed at the skewers.A glint came to Murrieta’s eye.“In California you lot never shut up in that weird jabber. Guess you can speak after all.”Curiosity nested inside his wariness.“Good thing, too. I’ve killed twenty-nine Chinamen and wanted to round it to thirty.”Max cocked his head a hair. Records had him at twenty-eight, max.“Don’t lie. Five Joaquins.”“…What?”Holy hell—did he just say Five Joaquins!?Mary’s eyes flew wide. Murrieta’s gaze wavered.Max struck the gap, hand flashing for his holstered pistol like lightning.He set the trigger under his index finger at half-take-up and, with his left hand, thumbed the hammer—one shot, then another in a rip.Bang!Fast draw, then fanning.So fast it sounded like a single report.One round punched dead-center into Murrieta’s forehead; the other smashed the back of the head of the man with his back to Max.And—Click.The last round aimed at the third man—misfire…“?!”Max’s eyes crossed with the man’s.As he fumbled his rifle up in a panic,Max’s left hand flicked.Whiiish. Thunk!A 12-inch Bowie knife with a curved spine drove clean through his neck.“Ghk…”Blood burbled through his fingers as he clutched at steel and throat.To keep blood off the meat, Max booted him in the chest and ripped the knife free.Thud.“W-whoa… Max… that was insane…”Beside James, Conall blinked at the corpses.But even with three men down, Mary only went paler. If Max was right about who they were, it wasn’t over.“If it’s the Five Joaquins, aren’t there five? Where are the other two…?”“!”At Mary’s words, James and Conall whipped their heads, scanning the dark.If two were nearby—The fear that bullets could come any second crawled up their spines.Max alone seemed unbothered. “Only three of them?”Mary asked, incredulous.Max nodded to steady her and the family.“Two already got grabbed by the Rangers.”“How do you… know that?”Off the intel from the captured two, the California Rangers hunted Murrieta.The record sits in a museum for anyone to read.And in practice, the Five Joaquins often moved with those three as the core.If he hadn’t known that, Max wouldn’t have moved this early.“Heard it back in California. They probably ran here with the Rangers on their tail.”“We were in California too. How’d we miss that?”James tilted his head.“Well, California’s kinda big.”“Anyway, never thought these bastards would be the Five Joaquins. We got through another nasty scrape thanks to you.”James let out a breath and rubbed his chest.Right then, people started drifting over one by one.Look at their sense—only show once it’s over.“Did you kill them?”“Wow. An Oriental taking down the Five Joaquins? That’s big news.”Not one of them spat the word “coolie.”“So what’s your name?”“Max Jo!”Conall shouted for him.People rolled the name on their tongues.“Max Jo. An Oriental gunman arrives.”“Heard these fellas were the real deal. How do you shoot that fast?”Why am I good with a gun…Maybe because of the Alpha Lidkov owner.He’d given me a Colt M1873—aka the Single Action Army—and I hauled it around without fail.But that’s not all.What really did it was a YouTube clip once—some inhuman speed-draw master.Time from clearing the holster to hitting the target. The Guinness record for a 21-foot (6.4 m) fast draw was 0.295 seconds.Honestly, that speed is nonsense.In his former life, Jo Yookang beat himself bloody against that wall. He never broke the 0.3-second curse before getting hauled to the West.Wonder what I clocked today.With a body this gaunt, definitely slower.They were gawking, but to Max it fell short.Need a lot more training.Guns are about to leap forward in this era; it’s just unfamiliar now. Before long the West will swarm with monsters.The crowd lingered, whispering among themselves, no sign of leaving.Not much for bystanders, are they.But they had a different purpose. Their eyes kept cutting to the corpses.Cash, gold, guns—the Five Joaquins would’ve been carrying something.Above all—They’re here for the bounty.He only remembered the sum was big.Big enough that California created the Rangers to bring them in.A big catch.Backed into a prize rat by accident, he’d bagged a lunker as a bounty hunter.A good start.Max leaned to James and whispered like a breath only he could hear.– You know how much the bounty is?– Hm?James hadn’t gotten that far, given the chaos.A head suddenly poked between them.– Three thousand dollars.Mary’s eyes sparkled. James’ jaw dropped.Max, on the other hand, was more curious how Mary overheard their private murmur—probably because the number didn’t land for him yet.– Three thousand? That’s enormous.– And that’s just on Joaquin Murrieta alone. The others are much smaller.– Is three thousand really that big?Max asked.James and Mary stared at him like he’d grown two heads. You know everything else but not that?Hard to blame him—Lee Maksan never got paid in California. All he ever earned was food and a place to sleep.Global sucker…That was Joseon’s Lee Maksan.James laid out what three grand meant.– Your Colt Dragoon runs about fifteen dollars, and miners pull eight dollars a week. So three thousand is enormous.And then it came back to him.If you multiply by roughly thirty, it’s comparable to modern money.By that math, three thousand is ninety thousand.Over a hundred million won.Max’s mouth finally fell open.– Your reactions are a bit slow, friend.James gave a dry chuckle.– How do we actually claim the bounty?– Since California posted it, you’d go there.– That I can’t stomach. Can’t we do it in Kansas?– Kansas is just a territory now, so it’ll be hard. Jackson County in Missouri would be better. It’s right next door.You wouldn’t ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) get the full three thousand, and even then it could take months to pay out.Still better than going back to California.Max set the destination: Jackson County on the Kansas–Missouri line.Close to Leavenworth, the town James meant to reach.“All right, folks, we need to eat. Let’s break this up.”Max shooed off the gawkers eyeing the bodies like carrion.Not that everyone was like that.Some of the Mormons were more interested in buffalo meat than corpses.They hunted in groups, true—But most had lived cushy in the East on faith alone, and their hands weren’t much to speak of.“James, how about we share the meat with them? It’ll rot if we don’t eat it.”“You hunted it. Your call.”Max waved the Mormons trudging away back over. A moment later, smiles bloomed across their faces.Mary watched and let out a half-laugh.“That’s awfully random. A bag of bones acting like he cares.”“Seeing that in him makes me feel safer.”“Well… me too.”Calm, cold-blooded—and a terrifying hand with a gun.Plenty of reason to fear him.But the way Max cared for others scraped that fear off.All the emigrants looked like beggars, but the Mormons were in the worst shape.Driven out under religious persecution, most were hauling handcarts, not wagons.Moving as family units—kids and the elderly—meant the brutal trek was killing them off.Which made Max’s consideration shine even more.Different creeds aside, James’ family found themselves smiling too, watching the Mormons’ faces light up at Max’s words.They were making one big mistake, though.They didn’t see the hard math underneath Max’s kindness.When three thousand dollars is dangling right in front of you, it’d be a lie to say you don’t want it.Four in their party, including a woman and a thirteen-year-old. Take out the two men, and it’s over—plenty tempting for someone.Who knows what a man will try in the middle of the night.The meat was bait. Max had the Mormons drag their wagons and handcarts in around James’ wagon.So the family who’d been camping alone on a drop of trail suddenly had people gathered around them. The wagons and handcarts made enough to ring a circle—an impromptu corral.With a shield like this up, fewer idiots will try anything.Crackle, crackle.A campfire at the center of the ring. Nearly forty Mormons came in with tin plates in hand.When they bowed their heads to pray before eating, Max gazed at the meat.Meat was his religion.And in the dark, more than a few eyes clicked their tongues and watched.“Damn it. Hard to grab the bodies now.”Those who’d thought four people would be easy pickings swallowed hard. Those with bounty fever refused to give up even deep into the night.Come on, then. Any of you.Max snorted and tore into steak.Grease filled his stomach; fullness made him feel like he owned the world.He even fancied his shriveled skin had plumped a shade.I’ll hunt again tomorrow.Word that he’d taken a big-name gang like the Five Joaquins would spread fast.Until they reached Topeka, capital of Kansas, Max decided he’d take care of the Mormons’ dinners.

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