If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The factory workers, the specialized engineers, and the mafia capos all broke into a massive, thunderous round of applause. They clapped and cheered, completely overwhelmed by the sheer, unadulterated display of absolute craftsmanship. Caleb hadn't just proven he was their boss, he had proven he was the absolute master of their trade.
Caleb nodded in acknowledgment, a tired but profoundly satisfied smile on his face.
Because he didn't just make one of each. Operating with the relentless, supernatural speed of his max level skills, his session resulted in him staying at the forge until the deep, freezing evening had completely settled over the city.
By the time he finally washed the grease from his hands, he had successfully made around ten flawless copies of the Collector's Edition for each of the new weapon designs.
Resting on the heavy velvet lined display tables were ten gold inlaid Thorne Model 1 handguns, ten silver vine Auto 5 shotguns, ten master crafted Vanguard rifles with polygonal barrels, and ten utterly terrifying, perfectly polished Sweeper submachine guns.
They were fifty of the most advanced, beautiful, and expensive firearms on the face of the earth.
Arthur walked over to the table. He reached out with reverence, picking up one of the Model 1 handguns. He felt the weight of it, the perfect, unbelievable balance. He racked the slide, the oiled steel sliding back with a smooth, heavy, and incredibly satisfying clack.
"Caleb," Arthur whispered, his green eyes completely wide. "This is... I ain't never felt anything like this. This makes my old Cattleman revolver feel like a rusty rock."
"That is exactly the point, Arthur," Caleb grinned, pulling his tailored suit jacket back on over his rolled up sleeves. "We are selling the future."
Hosea tapped his cane, looking at the glittering gold and silver inlays catching the harsh factory lights. "They are magnificent. The tycoons at the New Year's party are going to lose their absolute minds when they see these. But... do they actually shoot as good as they look?"
Caleb looked at the old patriarch, a dark, thrilled light burning in his eyes.
"We are going to find out," Caleb stated, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. He turned to the factory head. "Harrison. Crate these Collector's Editions up carefully and have them transported to the mansion's high security vault tonight under heavy guard."
Caleb then looked back at Arthur, Hosea, Vincenzo, and Silvio. He cracked his neck, exhausted but completely exhilarated.
"Have the men load up a wagon with a few thousand rounds of ammunition," Caleb commanded, a wide, predatory smile breaking across his face. "I decided we are going to do the live fire test tomorrow morning. We are going to take these prototypes out to the private ranges and see exactly what kind of hell we have just unleashed upon the world."
Hearing what Caleb said, the bespectacled factory head vigorously nodded his head, the sheer excitement of a master engineer witnessing a technological revolution radiating from his face.
"Right away, boss!" Harrison shouted over the ambient hiss of the steam pipes. He immediately turned on his heel and began to aggressively direct several of the strongest workers from the slum crews to drop their current tasks. "You men! Bring the padded crates! Carefully, for God's sake, you're holding a king's ransom in steel!"
Under Harrison's strict oversight, the workers began putting these beautiful, master crafted weapons incredibly carefully into the heavy wooden crates, laying each gold and silver inlaid firearm into thick beds of protective straw and velvet.
Once secured and nailed shut, the crates were hauled out of the factory doors and loaded into a heavy duty, reinforced transport wagon. Simultaneously, several other workers were explicitly ordered to pack up thousands of rounds of the newly minted, high velocity ammunition.
The heavy boxes of .45 ACP, 12 gauge buckshot, and pointed .30 caliber spitzer bullets were securely packed into separate crates before being hauled up and strapped down into the wagon beside the guns.
With the secure transport of the prototypes entirely handled, Caleb and his lethal entourage finally took their leave. They buttoned their heavy overcoats against the biting winter air, getting back onto the luxurious, black lacquered carriage, and rode back to the wealthy western edge of the city, heading straight to the Garden District mansion.
When they arrived back at the sprawling estate, the deep, freezing evening had completely enveloped Saint Denis. The adrenaline of the forge was finally wearing off, leaving a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. Caleb didn't linger in the drawing rooms to drink or celebrate.
He immediately went to take a well deserved rest. He stripped off his grease stained and soot covered clothes, washing himself up in a steaming hot copper bathtub drawn by the household staff, scrubbing the dark, metallic factory dust from his skin. After putting on clean sleepwear, he went down to the kitchens to quietly eat some leftover cold roasted meats and bread.
Thoroughly fed and completely exhausted, Caleb finally went upstairs to the master suite. He slipped into the massive, plush bed beside Mary-Beth, who was already fast asleep. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and hugging her warmly from behind, burying his face in the sweet scent of her dark hair before letting the heavy darkness of sleep completely overtake him.
The next day, Caleb was peacefully woken up by Mary-Beth. She was sitting on the edge of the mattress, already dressed for the morning, looking down at him with a brilliantly warm, affectionate smile.
She gently stroked his hair and said to him, her voice soft and cheerful, that she had actually made breakfast for the two of them this morning. Despite living in a mansion with a world class private chef and a dozen servants, she still loved to occasionally cook for the man she loved, keeping a small, intimate piece of their old, rugged life alive.
Caleb smiled, a deep, rumbling chuckle vibrating in his chest as he sat up. He leaned forward, kissing her tenderly on the cheek to show his appreciation, before getting out of bed and pulling on a comfortable set of day clothes.
Together, they went downstairs to the quiet, sunlit dining room and ate the incredibly delicious, simple breakfast of fried eggs, thick cut bacon, and toasted bread made personally by Mary-Beth.
As Caleb was finishing his dark coffee, the heavy oak doors of the dining room opened. Antonio, the impeccably dressed head butler, entered the room and approached the table.
"Good morning, Don McLaughlin. Madam," Antonio greeted, bowing respectfully before he informed Caleb of the overnight logistics. "I apologize for the interruption, sir, but the items from the firearms factory have arrived safely. The wagons pulled in late last night, and the crates have been securely stored in the estate's primary storehouse under heavy guard."
Hearing that, Caleb set his coffee cup down, a sharp, excited light instantly returning to his blue eyes. He turned to Antonio and said that the crates should be immediately brought out and placed in the back courtyard, and that the lids should be pried open.
"Have the men set them up facing the bayou," Caleb instructed smoothly. "Because myself, the lieutenants, and the boys are going to test the guns and the ammunition out there this morning."
Antonio, hearing that explicit command, didn't bat an eye at the prospect of a massive live fire exercise happening in the backyard of a multi hundreds of thousands of dollar estate.
He simply nodded his head, saying, "Right away, my Don," before he turned on his heel and walked away to organize the heavy labor.
As for Mary-Beth, hearing that they were going to be firing the mysterious new weapons Caleb had been obsessing over, she turned to him and asked if she could come out and see the testing of these new firearms.
Caleb, hearing that request, completely broke into a wide, encouraging smile. He nodded his head and said that, of course, she could come.
"I'd love for you to be there, sweetheart," Caleb said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "In fact, I think you should actively try shooting the M1911 handgun yourself. I specifically designed the internal recoil mechanism so that the slide absorbs a massive amount of the kinetic energy. It kicks far less than those old, heavy iron revolvers we used to carry. It is much, much easier to use, and incredibly safer as well."
Mary-Beth's eyes widened with a mixture of slight apprehension and genuine excitement. She had never been much of a gunslinger, leaving the shooting to Arthur and John, but the idea of holding a piece of the future that Caleb had built with his own two hands was entirely irresistible. She nodded eagerly.
After finishing their breakfast, the two of them walked through the sprawling corridors of the mansion and went straight to the massive back courtyard.
The back of the Garden District estate was a sprawling expanse of meticulously cut grass that eventually sloped downward, ending abruptly at a low stone wall that bordered the thick, misty, untamed swamps of the Lemoyne bayou. It was the absolute perfect, safe backdrop to catch thousands of rounds of stray lead.
When Caleb and Mary-Beth stepped out into the crisp winter air, a massive crowd was already waiting for them.
Gathered around the open wooden crates were Arthur, Hosea, Vincenzo, Silvio, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith, Uncle, Kieran Duffy, and Sadie Adler.
The entire core of the Van der Linde gang, alongside the two top Italian mafia lieutenants, had assembled to see what the Don had forged.
The heavy wooden crates were already pried open, resting on sturdy wooden tables. The dark, blued steel and the glittering gold and silver inlays of the prototype guns, alongside thousands of brass cartridges packed neatly into wooden ammo boxes, were already present and gleaming in the morning sun.
Other than Arthur and Hosea, who had seen them forged last night, the others were, of course, completely and utterly mesmerized by the new weapons. They were staring into the crates as if looking at alien technology.
Caleb walked down the stone steps, raising his hand in a casual greeting to all of them.
Sadie, wearing her usual tough leather duster and holding a half smoked cigarette, pointed a gloved finger at the fifty round drum magazine attached to the Sweeper submachine gun.
"Caleb," Sadie asked, her voice laced with absolute, sheer disbelief. "What in the hell kind of weapons are these? I've handled plenty of repeaters and shotguns in my time, but these look like they fell right out of the sky."
Caleb chuckled, stepping up to the tables. He began to thoroughly explain each weapon to the gathered crowd. He held up the Thorne Model 1, explaining the magazine fed semi automatic action that completely negated the need to pull a hammer back.
He showed them the Auto 5, demonstrating how the barrel physically pushed back into the receiver to load the next shotgun shell. He held up the Vanguard rifle, explaining the polygonal rifling and the high velocity spitzer bullets that could punch through a brick wall. And finally, he tapped the heavy steel drum of the Sweeper, explaining the terrifying concept of fully automatic, continuous fire.
The gang listened in absolute, stunned silence. To men who had spent their lives surviving on six shooters and lever action carbines, this was an unimaginable leap in lethal technology.
Before the shock could fully set in, Caleb said that they could finally begin testing the weapons. He pointed toward the thick, murky water and the dead, moss draped cypress trees of the swamp in the back.
Several wooden crates, empty glass bottles, and thick wooden planks had already been set up along the stone wall and floating in the shallow mud as makeshift targets.
Caleb, of course, in the process stated that he would be the first one testing the weapons, starting from the handguns first, with a couple of others testing alongside him to get a feel for the new operating systems.
He picked up one of the gold inlaid Thorne Model 1 handguns. He grabbed a sleek, steel 7 round magazine, pressing the heavy .45 ACP cartridges down into the spring. He slapped the magazine into the bottom of the grip with a sharp click.
Javier and John stepped up beside him, each picking up a Model 1 and clumsily loading the magazines under Caleb's verbal instructions.
"Alright, boys," Caleb instructed, raising his weapon and pointing it at a row of glass bottles resting on the stone wall fifty yards away. "No cocking the hammer. Just pull the slide back once, let it snap forward, and then pull the trigger as fast as your finger can move."
Caleb racked the slide. He leveled his arm and squeezed the trigger.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The explosive, deafening roar of the .45 caliber handgun echoed across the courtyard in a fraction of a second. The cyclic rate was terrifying. Seven empty brass casings flew through the air, clinking sharply against the stone pavers, before the slide locked back on the empty magazine.
Down by the swamp, seven glass bottles had been entirely pulverized into dust before the sound of the first shot had even faded. John and Javier completely froze. They stared at the smoking pistols in their hands, then looked at Caleb, their jaws literally dropping. "Jesus Mary and Joseph," Sean MacGuire breathed from the back of the crowd, pulling his flat cap off his head. "He just emptied a gun in a heartbeat."
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 284,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -