Stephen pulled the reins, tying his horse to a nearby sapling. He turned, a hint of satisfaction playing on his lips as he surveyed the two horses following behind.

  Those bandits were right. This haul was truly bountiful, no wonder they were desperate enough to risk it all.

  He had more than just rabbits and whitetail deer; he even managed to bag a foolish wolf. All of them skinned, gutted, and securely packed on the horses with oilcloth.

  Luckily, the weather had been snowy recently, temperatures well below freezing. The meat was frozen solid, no need to worry about it spoiling.

  The packhorse also carried supplies purchased from the town down the mountain: whiskey, cigarettes, canned vegetables, bullets, and other miscellaneous necessities.

  Good thing the packhorse was sturdy enough. Hauling such a heavy load in this weather would be too much for most horses.

  Stephen labored to unload the horses, one item at a time. He grabbed a small horse brush to clear away the snow from the packhorse's coat.

  He’d had this horse for over half a year now. He had to admit, it was a good horse. Always diligent, never temperamental.

  It had been working hard these past few days. Once they reached their destination, he’d have to find some premium feed to give it a boost.

  After taking care of the reliable packhorse, Stephen turned to face the other horse, more like a lady.

  If horses had ranks, this one would be at the very top. Stephen dared say it was one of the finest horses in the world.

  A purebred Arabian. Stephen considered himself no expert, but he had worked in a stable as a kid. He knew a legendary breed when he saw one. He never thought he'd own something like this.

  The horse was pure white, without a single blemish. Standing in the snow, it nearly blended into the white landscape.

  Its muscles were like forged steel. Large, intelligent eyes sparkled with life. Elegant posture, regal air. It would easily fetch $1,000 on the market.

  "Hey, your highness, don't give me that look. You wouldn't kick me, would you?" Stephen reached out to stroke its long mane, trying to soothe it.

  But the horse seemed impatient, tossing its head and neighing loudly.

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  "Alright, alright, I'll leave you alone." Stephen raised his hands and took a couple of steps back. Seemed like the princess was in a bad mood today. Best not to provoke her.

  He’d spent nearly a month tracking and capturing this horse in the mountains. Now, he finally had her.

  He didn’t know how such a magnificent horse ended up near Lake Isabella. But since it was unclaimed, he figured he might as well make it his own.

  Stephen built a campfire behind some rocks and quickly set up his tent against the mountain face. He then settled down comfortably by the fire.

  The tent and rocks blocked the howling wind. The small campfire provided much-needed warmth.

  He quickly pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and felt the smoke fill his lungs. He exhaled slowly, letting the fatigue slip away.

  After finishing the cigarette, he took out his small pot and scooped some snow into it.

  He then pulled out a small bag of leftover jerky from lunch, and cut it into small pieces with his belt knife. He opened a can of beans and poured it all into the pot.

  While he waited for the food to cook, Stephen's thoughts drifted.

  He was a time traveler.

  For some reason, Zhou Zheng, a Chinese man playing games at home, had suddenly crossed over to the American West in 1897, becoming a white cowboy named Stephen Johnson.

  When he first arrived, his original memories and the memories of the body he inhabited were jumbled together, leaving his mind in chaos and his mental state unstable.

  Wounded and confused, he wandered through the Grizzlies West for days until a kind couple rescued him.

  Mr. Yake Adler and his wife, Mrs. Sadie Adler.

  They were good people. They took Stephen in, nursed his wounds, and helped him through that dangerous time.

  Under their care, Stephen recovered. He was finally able to understand his new identity.

  The original Stephen Johnson came from Chicago in the eastern United States. He was an orphan and a thug.

  After owing a local mob boss a large sum of money, he boarded a train to the West, hoping to escape his debts and strike it rich.

  Unfortunately, he was robbed as soon as he stepped onto Western soil.

  He knew how to use a gun, and he was quite skilled. But he was no match for the ruthless bandits.

  He was shot several times during the fight and died in a valley in Grizzlies West. Then, the current Stephen took his place.

  Three months later, Stephen recovered and said goodbye to the Adlers, embarking on his own Western adventure.

  When he left, Mr. Yake generously gave Stephen a packhorse and a used Schofield Revolver, which became Stephen's starting capital.

  To be honest, Stephen didn’t know how to survive in the West at first. In his previous life, he was a college student. In this life, he was a low-level thug. What could that combination do?

  But people can be forced to adapt. Anything but math.

  By chance, Stephen became a bounty hunter.

  He helped the police capture criminals and earned money for a living.

  This was not an easy job. In the past two years, Stephen struggled, risked his life countless times, and failed often.

  But he finally managed to make something of himself. Recently, Stephen single-handedly captured a notorious pair of outlaw lovebirds and collected a large reward.

  Now that he had money, it was time to return home, in a sense.

  Stephen couldn’t return to his old home, but the Adlers were the best people he’d ever met, and he had to repay them.

  He spent all of his money buying gifts, even some beautiful clothes and jewelry.

  And so, a month ago, he headed up the mountain, hoping to surprise the Adlers.