It took the better part of three days to get everything at least organised.

  Herbert threw up for a good ten minutes until he was only dry heaving. Even then, he did not stop for a little longer. Eventually, he was able to stop and receive my instructions.

  He would take the hoses to the neighbouring town and sell them. If anyone asked, they were an inheritance from a relative's death. He could choose which one he wanted, as I did not care. He could hire help if needed, but I wanted the horses gone after the wagons were emptied and dumped. Rodriguez oversaw that, leaving the contents next to the gates, which the Hunters moved in after the bodies were buried.

  He could keep the proceeds but was to return when he was done as there was more to do. He stumbled away. I was too busy to worry about him.

  So much to be done.

  Flies soon started to appear as my Hunters went through the bodies. I had them begin burying them as soon as the sunset. I looked over my newest Hunter's stats when they did this.

  "Cannibal? Why just not mass murder? Seriously, can I just get a mass murderer for a change!"

  He was a skilled killer with a talent for explosives, which was new for the Dungeon. What could I do with that? I had no idea just yet. There were no kills, but that was due to his unique recruitment.

  McGregor emerged the next day to help and had gone through his second level up.

  His blade skills had improved, which suited him. His picture showed me the changes he had gone through. He was paler, his skin almost translucent, and his eyes more bloodshot. I had thought he would show a more visible change, but not yet, it seemed.

  Roberson emerged a day and a half later and aided in burying the last bodies. Then, together, they went through the wagon's contents. What was wanted or interested me was kept, and the rest dumped.

  What was taken and split up was the following.

  Tabacco divided.

  Alcohol divided.

  A small amount of opium is divided. I was not sure how I felt about that. It turned out old Adam liked to chase the dragon a bit.

  Several items of clothing, the rest of which went into storage for future use. Oh, Rigger got some new boots.

  All hunters received weapon upgrades if they desired them, and they did. They all sported newer-model Colts and Winchester repeating rifles with plenty of ammunition.

  What I gained was the following.

  A small arsenal of guns and other close-quarter weapons with several thousand rounds of ammunition. Stored in the crypts below the church.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Thirty sticks of dynamite with wire, blasting caps and two detonators. I had refused to allow Roberson this stuff and stored it far from the church.

  Nineteen watches of different makes, ranging from cheap to expensive, various assorted jewellery, silver cigarette cases, and other containers with precious metal plating, all stored downstairs.

  Then, to the big stuff. After a full twenty-four hours of counting, my wealth totals were now the following.

  $467.56 in change.

  $17,598 in notes of very value, the good old greenback.

  $2434 in silver dollars.

  1420 twenty-dollar gold coins.

  28 silver bars.

  And finally, 12 gold bars. The ones seen in films that you find in bank vaults.

  The total sum of Adam's Pilgrim's fifteen-year criminal career. Now mine. I learned that from Roberson. He liked to keep the money close and trusted none with the keys to the chests.

  "Yes, I am rich. Now, to start clearing up this mess. [Hide the Crime!]"

  Herbert needed help but got the horses to the neighbouring town and sold them for less than they were worth. He still made a healthy sum after all of his expenses were paid. I learned from Amy there were some questions, but they were eased with some alcohol and a bit of bribery when they did not believe the story. The relative who died was one of hers, making it harder to disprove.

  Amy was pregnant now and was growing in confidence as she was given more responsibilities, mainly at my insistence. I had her run the Driver family finances as Herbert liked to flash the cash, drink, and gamble a bit too much. He tried to complain, and I reminded him of what he witnessed in the church, which silenced any further protests.

  It was through her that I implemented the next phase of my plan. I continued to use the story of the family inheritance to have them price and buy the land under and around the Dungeon. This was to be covered with the excuse of protecting the public by hiding the place in the forest and not having any developer come in by land only to discover the graveyard. Who knows what would happen then?

  The land was not to be bought all at once but slowly over several years, and the town elders were happy to get rid of it. It was agreed that the land and some more would be bought for a set price over the next five years. It was easy to cover that cost now. The total was just over a thousand dollars with a slight discount. The local price was five dollars per acre right now. He was buying three hundred and fifty acres in total. This was just the start, as the forest was far larger, and the land just bought was barely a square mile.

  Once it was all done, the Driver family would be a mid-size landowner in the area, with the Rochester family being one of the largest. Knowing where their money had come from made me laugh.

  Amy reported that she suspected the older families were not completely fooled and were watching them now. I had them be more careful when visiting, just in case.

  The church was being cleared of blood, but the damage was extensive and would not be repaired until I reached my next level. This would expose the inside of the church to the elements. Thankfully, the crypts were safe. [Hide the Crime!] could only do so much but was improving.

  Autumn arrived, and I settled into my usual routine.

  I was still receiving news from the world, but not much caught my attention. More rail companies were forming, and the Orient Express started in Europe. Toward the end of October, the Supreme overturned most of the Civil Rights Act of 1875. Former President Adram Lincon criticises this, claiming it was detrimental to the country. He had led the arguments in its defence when the Court had heard them. He had been credited with not seeing a complete repeal.

  November saw the institution of five standard time zones on both US and Canadian railways. Across the Western states, robberies and hold-ups continued, but the local Sheriffs or Marshals were hunting down more criminals. Reports of dramatic gun fights appeared at least once a week in the paper.

  Many were wondering where Adam Pilgrim was presently and what dastardly deeds he was planning.

  "Buried half a mile from here and rotting."

  I chuckled as I read the worried editorial.

  The first regiments of the Royal Canadian Army were raised and presented their colours near the end of December, before Christmas. The US Government called it a "provocation".

  I had no more visitors after Pilgrim and his group. I was happy about that.

  1884 starts with little happening globally or locally. Heavy snows halt nearly all travellers beyond the rail, and even then, there are delays. I did get an interesting piece of information from Amy: several Marshals were in the area trying to pick up the trail of Adam Pilgrim. I stayed watchful during January.

  I had hoped they would pass me by, but I got four riders approaching the gates late one day. I suspect there is at least one Marshall amongst them. Shifting to the gates, I was sadly proven right—a Marshall and three riders.

  "I do not think there will be anyone here." One of the men was saying.

  "You have said this before." Said another. He had a Marshall badge on his coat.

  "Why hang out here? It's a graveyard." The first man continued. "No amenities or housing. No sane man would stay here."

  The Marshall stood at the gates looking out across the graveyard. "Who built it?"

  The question was not what the first was expecting, and he stumbled into his answer.

  "Sorry. What did you say, Marshall?" He asked.

  "I asked who built this place. Because from the number of graves and tombs, there was a mighty large amount of people dying at some time around these parts." He said, turning to the first. "So, Mr Turner, who built this place?"

  Mr Turner was on the spot and had gone pale. I suspected he was a local and was not eager to answer that question even if he could.

  "Your silence is even more telling." The Marshall turned to the other two men. "We go in and have a look around. Shout out if you see anything."

  They nodded, and all carried firearms. Bundled up against the cold, they seemed ready for trouble. They started to enter the Dungeon, but Turner refused.

  The Marshall noticed and turned to the other man. "Not coming, Mr Turner?"

  "No sir, I am not. Searching the area, I will help you with, and I have. This place has a reputation of ill repute. I shall leave you to this course of action." He about-faced and left the gates, remounted his horse, and left the three behind.

  "Do you want me to go and bring him back, Marshall Jones?" The man to his left asked.

  "No, Issac. It's best to leave him to his ride back to Crossway." Marshall Jones turned and faced the plinth. He read the inscription as he continued talking. "Something mighty strange is happening here, and I want to know what."

  "True, Marshall, this place is a grand place for such a young town like Crossway. I would have expected something like this out east." The other said.

  "I agree. Let's get going."

  They went along the northern path.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  I sensed my Hunters stirring. I reached out to them.

  "Three lawmen, all armed, heading north."

  I followed behind the three men, listening to their conversation.

  "Mighty unsettling place," Issac commented.

  "I agree." Marshall Jones replied.

  The three men went silent after that, and all that was heard was the crunching of their footfalls through the snow covering the ground. There were no other sounds this was mainly due to the time of year.

  I checked the sun's position. It was still too early to see the spirit. We were in Roberson's hunting grounds right now, and I was a little concerned as he had no kills to protect him from death if he fought these men.

  Another factor became apparent as my Dungeon grew denser and larger. My Hunters took longer to move around and find their prey or intruders. The maze layout was working against them as much as the intruders.

  "I will need to get them out more to learn the Dungeons layout."

  I thought about it, but that was for another day, as I needed to focus on these men first. I continued to follow them. I noticed Roberson stalking them from behind now. He had picked up on their trail and remained behind to maximise not being seen. The men were always looking around, which caused him to duck out of sight often.

  They were now crossing into the spirits' hunting grounds. This part of the Dungeon had more trees, but they were all bare. The sky was overcast, and there were plenty of shadowy areas, but not enough for the spirit to appear.

  Rodriguez had arrived to join the hunt. I suspected the other two would be here soon. The men continued, not aware of the danger following them.

  "Odd." The man whose name I did not know said.

  "What is it?" Jones asked.

  "These graves are blank," he said. They had turned a corner and could now see the faces of some of the graves that were not hidden by snow. It was a little fun fact that all the mausoleums and graves faced the church. I also discovered that when they moved, their bodies moved with them.

  They stopped and looked at what he was seeing. "You're right. Reckon that's might strange."

  "Let's keep going. Good eyes spotting that, Gerald." Jones said.

  They started walking again and went deeper into the maze of my Dungeon. They made a few wrong turns and were forced to double back and take another route. All four Hunters were now present.

  This was the second problem of my Dungeon. Unless I was directing them, they did not work together. I sighed mentally and intervened.

  "Attack them at the next major path junction."

  This got them moving. There was another issue to look into. This one would be far harder to resolve, as their natures are the source of the problem. I positioned myself to watch the fight. The Huter had come here from a more oblique direction to avoid leaving tracks.

  The three men reached the junction, and the Hunters emerged from their hiding places and attacked. Their footfalls in the snow alerted the men, who turned as they ran at them.

  "Who are you…" Marshall Jones started, but the drawn weapons told him everything he needed to know. "Fire! Do not let them get too close."

  Rodriguez and Roberson fired first while holding their Colts ready for use. They discharged as they ran in and aimed to hit them, but this threw off the intruder's aim. There shots going wide, but not by much. As this worked, it allowed them to get close enough for close-quarters combat. Rigger was further away and failed to reach the melee before it began.

  The lawmen never had the opportunity to access their close combat weapons and had to defend themselves with their rifles. Against my Hunters, the fight went as I expected it to.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  "Bury the bodies in a single room mausoleum."

  Not even I was so cruel to have them dig a grave in frozen ground. Rigger stomped off to the horses in a bad mood as he had not killed anyone. I reminded him of the additional kills he made in the church when Pilgrims gang died.

  Roberson looked odd but got to work as I returned to the church. The loot was collected, and horses were released. The split happened, and the Hunters shuffled off except for Roberson. He seemed unsure, so I took my avatar form to take the additional money and the Marshall badge downstairs.

  "Pardon, Keeper. Might I have a word?" He started.

  "Of course, Roberson. What do you want?"

  "I was hoping to get a pot belly stove for my lair?" He was acting like he was asking for something expensive and complicated.

  "I do not believe your lair has the ventilation to handle the smoke from such a stove?"

  "I reckon I put in a small chimney as well. I have done it before." He seemed to have thought this out.

  "Very well, take this money and go see Herbert to buy one. If you need more, let me know."

  He did, and the next week, a cast iron pot belly stove with a small metal pile chimney was added to his layer. There were plenty of tools in storage. He went out and gathered firewood, in addition to exploring the Dungeon better with the other Hunters. They grumbled but did as I instructed. He had not lit the stove yet, which I found odd, and had acquired cooking utensils from storage. This confused me until I remembered…. Cannibal.

  This all happened in late January, and I let the days pass, but I instructed Amy when she was going to Crossway to remember to look out for some things and seek a single piece of documentation that made me curious.

  Just how much power did the US Marshalls now have?