Red Dead Redemption 2: From Gaming To Cowboy

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A group of three men sat near the back corner, not locals. One of them kept eyeing Caleb's satchel. Another whispered behind his hand. As Caleb knew they meant trouble, one of the working girls, Lilly, a brunette with a sharp wit, leaned into Caleb at this time. "Watch yourself, sugar. Those three fellers? They have been asking around about you. Where you stay. When you ride out."

Caleb's fingers tightened around his glass. "Appreciate the warning, miss."

Lilly smirked. "For you, handsome? Always." She pressed a slip of paper into his hand, a room number, before sashaying away.

Caleb pocketed it with a sigh. It's just a respectful courtesy he had to do because Lily has confirmed his perception.

So it means there would be trouble. Maybe not tonight. But soon and Caleb hoped the there of them come to him.

Caleb downed his drink and made a quiet decision. He wouldn't be caught unaware. If they came after him, he'd face them and gain something from it. Whether it's their own money or a small experience gained for his skills.

Later that night, back in his room, Caleb lit a small lantern and jotted notes in the journal he'd have with him:

• Possible heist: Caravan near Cattail Pond next week — mining payroll. Worth informing the gang.

• Food Stand: Idea gaining traction. Jasper a good fit. Need materials. Build by stable?

• Threats: 3 strangers in the saloon — will be planning an ambush against me. Stay alert when leaving town.

• Safe: There is no information about the gang's whereabouts or about the law and Pinkerton's presence — at least safe for now.

After writing in his journal, Caleb sighed, the weight of everything settling deep into his bones. He twisted the brass knob of his lantern, snuffing the flame with a low hiss, then lay down on the firm but clean bed.

His eyes lingered on the ceiling for a long moment, heart still faintly thudding from the tension earlier. He thought of the three men, of Lilly's warning, and the silence in the air around him. But gradually, his breathing steadied, thoughts slowing, drifting. The weight of the day pulled him into sleep's embrace.

Morning sun beamed faintly through the dusty curtains, warm and golden. Caleb's eyes snapped open as if pulled by an invisible thread. No drowsy rolling about, his body had adjusted to the rhythm of survival in this world. Swinging his legs out of bed, he moved without hesitation.

First came the morning routine. He pushed the small table to the wall to clear space and dropped into calisthenics. His muscles flexed and coiled through sets of sit ups, each movement grounded in his rhythm. Push ups followed, each rep flowing into the next, arms straining but controlled. Afterward, he stood up, heart pumping steadily, and took off in a run through the town.

Around the livery stable, past the sheriff's office, and down near the post office, townsfolk barely glanced anymore, most had grown used to the sight of him jogging at dawn.

Caleb was fast, his strides smooth from training, and his high stamina. It was part fitness, part discipline, part control. After three full laps around the town, he returned to the hotel, sweat dampening his shirt and a light sheen on his brow.

He greeted the clerk, paid 25 cents for a hot bath, and sank gratefully into the steaming water, feeling the knots in his back relax. It was one of the few true luxuries he still allowed himself.

Later, freshly scrubbed and clean shaven, he dressed in his trusty Vaquero outfit. The red brown tones of the jacket and silver trim gave him a sharp look, the kind of presence that didn't need a badge to command respect.

But today wasn't about intimidation. It was about preparation.

He made his way toward the general store, the bell above the door jingling as he stepped inside.

Mr. Worth, standing behind the polished counter with his white sleeves rolled up, looked up and greeted warmly, "Look who it is, if it ain't our very own Deputy Thorne. What can I help you with in this fine morning?"

Caleb smiled. "I'm in the mood for something new today, Mr. Worth. Looking to pick up a couple of new outfits."

"Well now," Mr. Worth said, tapping his ledger. "The catalog's right—"

Caleb lifted a hand and shook his head gently. "Already got a few in mind. I'll take the Valentine and the Dewberry Creek outfits."

Mr. Worth's eyebrows raised. "Good taste, son. Real good taste. Hold tight. I go to the back and get it for you."

The older man disappeared into the back, and Caleb took a moment to glance around the store. Shelves lined with goods, dried meats, revolver cartridges, jars of jam, bolts of cloth, and small luxuries like cologne or coffee beans. It reminded him of how delicate the line was between rugged frontier survival and genteel civilization.

Mr. Worth returned a minute later, carrying both full outfits, hats, coats, trousers, boots, and the works, carefully folded and wrapped. He laid them out on the counter and tallied them on his register.

"That'll be 228 dollars and 75 cents, but seeing as how you're the man who brought in that scum Drew Dallas, capture that psychopath Edmund, and the one who cause Douglas to organize the poker tourney… now you're a deputy as well, you get a large discount. Brings your total down to 173 dollars and 43 cents."

Caleb blinked. "That's generous, Mr. Worth. Too generous."

Mr. Worth chuckled and waved a hand. "Business has been good, son. Folks have been coming into town more often now that the town is safer. And that tournament you caused to be made for? Brought in a whole mess of new customers. You don't just clean up criminals, you help keep the money flowing. That's worth something."

He leaned forward. "Tell you what. If you feel bad about it, just tell folks where you got those fine clothes. Let 'em know Mr. Worth's General Store keeps you dressed right."

Caleb chuckled, reached into his satchel, and counted out the cash. "Deal."

He paid the man, collected his new outfits, thanked him again, and stepped out into the bright light of day.

Back in his hotel room, Caleb laid the outfits neatly inside the trunk at the foot of his bed. The Valentine outfit was sturdy, built for much cooler climates, and perfect for riding out into a cooler area to the north.

The Dewberry Creek one was better suited for hunting and brushwork, lighter, and easier to move in. Both would serve him well.

Locking the trunk, he stepped back outside. The town was already stirring. Wagons rattled by, children played near the stables, and the sound of hammering came from the blacksmith's.

As Caleb made his way across the main street, something caught his eye. Two familiar figures stood outside the gunsmith's shop.

John Marston and Arthur Morgan.

John looked like he was talking low, glancing around carefully. Arthur had that stoic, half bored look as he stepped inside alone.

Caleb's eyes narrowed slightly.

He didn't need his Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX) skill to recognize what this meant.

The Sheep and the Goats mission.

Arthur was about to buy a Rolling Block Rifle, then head out with John to rustle a herd of sheep from Emerald Ranch, and drive them back here to sell them at the auction yard. But Caleb remembered what came after, the auctioneer demanded more money, Dutch was with Strauss at the small saloon, and soon after, Leviticus Cornwall's private guard came crashing down on them.

A gunfight that ensues in the middle of Valentine which causes the town to go on a lockdown.

That would not do.

Caleb had worked hard to build his reputation here, as a reliable man, as a protector. A shootout involving Dutch's gang would not only ruin that but might force his hand, take a side, and make a choice. And he couldn't, not yet.

He needed the gang… but he needed Valentine too.

He stepped to the side of the general store, into the alley where no one would bother him, and began to think in there.

He needed to improvise a solution to the Sheep & Goat mission. Prevent the shootout in Valentine from happening if possible. With the ultimate goal of protecting his reputation and also the gang's life.

He tapped one of his boots against the ground. What could he do? The key was stopping the confrontation without tipping the gang off that he knew the future. John and Strauss were caught because they had gone to collect the money. Maybe he could intercept them.

Better yet, prevent them from coming out from the saloon possibly, and they could go take the money when it's safe. The decision was clear on what to do.

Caleb decided that he would go to the small saloon owned by Mr. Keane, where Dutch and Strauss should be, at least, that's how the memory in his head played it out. He didn't know if the two of them were already there or not.

Either way, he had a plan, act like he didn't know them and signal them to do the same like they didn't know him, slowly get to know them, and, most importantly, signal them subtly to use fake names.

Buy a drink or two, and keep them talking, like getting to know each other. And when Arthur and John returned with the rustled sheep to the auction yard and joy Dutch and Strauss, he'd make sure John and Strauss didn't leave. Because that was when Cornwall and his private guards would come storming in. That was when the bloodbath would've started.

But not this time.

Caleb would be there to intercept. He would use his new badge and identity as Deputy Thorne to stand in the gap. To address Cornwall. To avoid the bloodshed, preserves the gang's cover, and his own standing in Valentine.

As he thought all this through, he peeked from the alley's corner and caught sight of Arthur and John. Sure enough, they had mounted up. Arthur had the familiar long rifle slung across his back, the Rolling Block Rifle, just as expected.

John had a casual grip on his reins, but he was clearly scanning the road ahead. Together, they rode out east toward the valley past the Heartland Overflow, where they'd soon scare off a group of ranch hands and rustle a herd of sheep toward Valentine.

Showtime.

Caleb stepped out of the alley and made his way toward the hotel with quick, purposeful strides. He nodded to a few passersby, his mind locked in tactical mode. The clock had started.

Once inside, he climbed the stairs to the second floor two at a time and entered his room. Without wasting a moment, he opened the trunk and pulled out his trusty Lancaster Repeater and Pump Action Shotgun, slinging them across his body with practiced efficiency. He paused only to check the ammunition, full. Good.

A glance at the lantern and journal made him consider leaving another note, but there wasn't time. If things went south, words wouldn't help. His actions had to speak.

With one last look around the tidy room, he stepped out and descended the stairs. The hotel clerk glanced up as he passed but said nothing, he was used to seeing Caleb armed, especially with all the work he'd done recently.

Outside, the morning had settled into a calm buzz. Morgan waited patiently at the hitching post, ears flicking lazily. Caleb mounted up, gave her a gentle pat on the neck, and rode down the main street.

He passed the Sheriff's Office, where Sheriff Malloy stood smoking a cigar on the porch, tipping his hat in Caleb's direction. Caleb returned the gesture.

A right turn took him past the Gunsmith's shop, where the door still swung lazily from Arthur's recent exit. Then he saw it, Keane's Saloon, a modest and small, one story affair with flaking red paint and a faded sign. It sat tucked on the left side of the road, nestled between a boarded up house and a small house.

...

Name: Caleb Thorne

Age: 23

Body Attributes:

- Strength: 7/10

- Agility: 6/10

- Perception: 8/10

- Stamina: 7/10

- Charm: 5/10

- Luck: 6/10

Skills:

- Handgun (Lvl 2)

- Rifle (Lvl 2)

- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)

- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl 1)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)

- Sneaking (Lvl 2)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)

- Poker (Lvl 3)

- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)

- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)

- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)

- Bow (Lvl 2)

- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)

- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)

- Crafting (Lv1)

- Persuasion (Lvl 2)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

- Cooking (Lvl 2)

- Teaching (Lvl 1)

Money: 1463 dollars and 45 cents and 2 gold nuggets

Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets