The wolf encounter left Stephen exhausted and his white horse utterly terrified.

  The poor thing had been targeted by a coyote right from the start.

  Stephen didn't have time to help him; in a panic, the horse used its iron-shod hooves to deliver a devastating kick to the coyote's belly.

  Kicking aside the unfortunate coyote, its entrails ripped apart by the white horse's hooves, Stephen quickly pulled out some tasty horse feed from his bag to soothe his mount.

  It was only now that Stephen realized he hadn't even given the creature a name yet.

  "Ugh... naming is such a pain, I hate it." Stephen rubbed his head in annoyance.

  "Alright, it's settled then, your name is Snowball." After thinking for a long while, Stephen came up with this name.

  Snowball neighed at Stephen a couple of times, it wasn’t known whether it indicated an agreement or disagreement.

  But since it didn't object, Stephen assumed it approved.

  After comforting Snowball and treating it to a delicious meal, Stephen mounted up, setting off towards his next destination.

  The place Stephen was heading, naturally, was the black market.

  Strawberry definitely had a black market, in fact, every town had one nearby.

  Valentine's black market was a saloon, Saint Denis's black market was a general store, and Rhodes's black market was in the slums.

  Each place's black market had its own unique characteristics, and Strawberry's black market was a train station.

  That's right, a train station located north of Strawberry, bordering Valentine, called Wallace Station.

  Because of Strawberry's ban on alcohol, those who wanted to drink, or make money selling it, could only find places outside the town.

  Naturally, they chose this remote station near the state line as their base.

  This was also the main reason Sam didn't want his relatives getting off at Wallace Station, as he mentioned earlier.

  It was simply too chaotic.

  A black market is a black market; how can it be called one if it isn't shady?

  A large number of criminals, heavily intoxicated drunks, and bounty hunters like Stephen would go there in search of what they desired.

  Wallace Station wasn't far, located east of Beryl's Dream, accessible by following the creek eastward.

  Stephen rode Snowball at a frantic pace and finally arrived at the station before nightfall.

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  It was as lively as ever, with several suspicious-looking characters hanging around.

  There were also three or four drunks staggering towards the distance, with a few nefarious individuals quietly following behind them.

  Looks like those guys weren't looking forward to what was to come.

  "Looks like our bounty hunter is gonna be cashing out big this time."

  Mr. Johnny, the train station's ticket clerk and black market security guard, was quite surprised to see Snowball under Stephen, saying, "I've never seen such a beautiful horse!"

  Indeed, when it comes to appearance, Snowball was quite impressive.

  "It's alright, it was only a matter of a hundred or two dollars." Stephen said in a deliberately casual manner, "As for the creature, it is alright, I suppose."

  This behavior of showing off naturally provoked a serious protest from Johnny.

  In his words, he worked hard for half a year and still couldn't earn two hundred bucks.

  "Anything happening recently?" Stephen offered him a cigarette and tossed him two dollars as a tip.

  That's the rule, information also costs money, of course.

  "That's not enough." Contrary to his usual behavior, Johnny looked at the money in front of him and didn't immediately take it.

  He grinned and said, "Buddy, you're a regular customer, and I have some important information I want to sell you. But that's not enough money, I need $10."

  "Oh, come on, what kind of news could you have? Don't tell me someone robbed a train here." Stephen shook his head.

  "My God, how did you know?" Johnny said with a look of surprise, "This is exclusive news."

  "To block the news, that big capitalist, Cornwall, sealed off the area with the Pinkertons!"

  Of course Stephen knew, he even knew who robbed it! He also knew where those people were now.

  "A little private channel, don't ask too much." Stephen waved his hand and said, "Do you know about the murders that happened at Beryl's Dream a few days ago?"

  "Beryl's Dream? Doesn't that place always have murders? Which one are you talking about?"

  Johnny spread his hands and said, "At most, I can tell you who often operates there."

  "Tell me, I need that information." Stephen once again pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the counter.

  Looking at the money in front of him, Johnny hesitated for a moment before whispering, "Actually, although I don't know who did it, I can roughly guess."

  "North of Beryl's Dream, near Hanging Dog Ranch, there's a family living in the woods, an old woman with her four sons."

  "They often come out to rob passersby, so if it happened there, there's a high chance it has something to do with that family."

  Johnny leaned close to Stephen's ear and whispered, "Don't sell me out, I still have to work here."

  "Don't worry, you know what kind of person I am." Stephen gratefully patted him on the shoulder and then turned to leave.

  "Are you leaving so late? Don't want to come in for a drink? Today our boss got a crate of wine from China, it's said to be strong, even stronger than Russian vodka."

  Johnny called out from behind Stephen, hearing this, Stephen couldn't help but stop.

  Wine from China?

  Stephen suddenly felt a little sentimental, perhaps missing things from the past.

  "Then I have to give it a try." Stephen decisively turned around and walked into the station.

  Following the enthusiastic Johnny into the room inside the station, Johnny fumbled on the floor for a while, opened one of the floorboards, and a downward staircase appeared.

  As the floorboard opened, a mixture of food, alcohol, and a hint of grease and powder smell entered Stephen's nostrils.

  At the same time, there were also the loud noises of the tavern guests.

  Stephen slowly walked down, and in no time, a simple but lively underground tavern appeared before his eyes.

  You really have to admire people's creativity sometimes.

  Stephen ordered a glass of the so-called Chinese Baijiu and took a careful sip.

  To be honest, the taste was average, just strong.

  But this taste made Stephen a little intoxicated.

  "Damn it, Micah! You can't drink anymore! We need to scout ahead, that's not why we're out here!"

  "You little punk, it's not your place to lecture me!"

  Just as Stephen was feeling a little tipsy, two somewhat familiar voices entered his ears.

  He looked up.

  Hey, aren't those Lenny and Micah, who were sent out by Dutch to scout ahead!

  What a coincidence, what were the odds of encountering that?