The two police officers were incredibly excited; they even felt why Mr. Dutch wasn't their sheriff. If they had such a generous gentleman as their sheriff, their lives would improve by countless levels.
"All right, gentlemen, I'm going in to sort out some things. I hope you enjoy my drinks," Dutch said with a smile, nodding at the two police officers.
"Oh, please, Mr. Arthur, go ahead!" the two police officers quickly replied, just like little lackeys.
Dutch and Hosea walked towards the Veteran Club nearby.
Hosea was still in a state of disbelief.
He whispered beside Dutch, shocked and incredulous: "Oh, Dutch, I can barely imagine when we gained such high status here? Is this still our life? Shouldn't we be a group of desperadoes feared by everyone? But look now, look at the worship and respect in their eyes, oh, Dutch, I can't imagine! Our lives have actually transformed into this state in just a few days! This... this is truly astonishing!"
"Oh, believe me, Hosea, our lives will change even more in the future. Everyone in our gang will be known far and wide; even little Jack, when he goes out, will have a group of important people leading his horse for him! Hehehehe..." Dutch chuckled, leading the way into the Veteran Club.
Only Hosea remained standing at the doorway, and incredulously looked back at the two admiring police officers behind him, before he muttered softly: "Oh, Dutch, this time I truly believe you!"
--
As Dutch walked into the Veteran Club, the scene inside the Veteran Club unfolded before his eyes.
The entire Veteran Club wasn't particularly large, about the size of a small saloon in Valentine, but now this small saloon was already filled with men. They gathered around, chatting about everything, smoking the low-quality cigarettes provided by the Veteran Club and drinking the inferior liquor provided by the Veteran Club, yet they squinted their eyes contentedly, as if it were an unparalleled delicacy.
In reality, for them, it truly was an unparalleled delicacy.
Most of these men weren't particularly old; most looked to be around forty years old, some younger ones around thirty. There were older ones too, but only a handful.
Because American veterans' treatment was poor, those who retired from the battlefield with injuries or amputations simply couldn't live very long. They could barely survive when they were young, but once their bodies gave out, death was only a matter of one or two months.
The issue of Veteran treatment had always been a highly controversial one in America.
When serving in the military, capitalists behind the scenes still needed them, so their food, clothing, housing, and transportation were all well-arranged. But once they retired, and no longer had utility, they were completely left to fend for themselves.
It was 1899, and America was in the midst of its rise as a new empire, with conflicts against older empires becoming increasingly fierce. During its previous territorial expansion, it had already clashed intensely with various old empires and was now in a slightly relaxed phase. Therefore, the number of retired veterans was countless. The game's portrayal of this was only a slight hint; in reality, in all the villages and towns, and major cities like Saint Denis, the beggars with broken arms and legs on the streets were all retired soldiers.
Even the physically sound veterans didn't have good lives. A large portion suffered from various mental illnesses after returning from the battlefield, affecting their lives; if it was too severe, those with families were somewhat better off, but those without families basically could only wait for death. Even less severe cases were problematic, as mental issues always affected social interactions to some extent, making better jobs basically impossible. They could only compete for manual labor jobs with undocumented immigrants and Black people who had only been emancipated for a few years.
Normally, being able to eat enough and stay warm was already a great fortune. Having the good fortune to drink a little alcohol and smoke a cigarette was even more unimaginable.
And now, this newly opened Veteran Club in Valentine suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and while it didn't solve all their life problems, it at least gave them a little hope.
Normally, after finishing work, they could come here to drink a couple of mouthfuls of inferior liquor. When slightly tipsy, they would confide in other veterans and complain about the country; the quality of this life dramatically improved. And those who couldn't even afford food could get some hard-to-swallow but perfectly adequate inferior bread here. Sometimes they could even eat a couple of fava beans and have a sip of liquor; this life directly guaranteed their survival.
Therefore, they were deeply grateful to the Valentine Veteran Club and held the owner behind the Valentine Club in reverence, like God.
After all, God had never made them full.
At this moment, as Dutch opened the door to the Veteran Club, the group of veterans conversing inside almost instinctively all turned their heads to look.
It wasn't that they knew Dutch was the owner of this place, but rather that this reaction was one of the strange symptoms left over from their time on the battlefield.
They would always notice slight changes in their environment in an instant, which ensured their survival on the battlefield, but became a flaw in their lives after returning to normal.
After all, no owner liked to be stared at like a beast the moment he walked in.
However, Dutch didn't care in the slightest. His life as a desperado was no different, and he had long been accustomed to such gazes.
"Oh, gentlemen, my boss is here! The owner behind the Valentine Veteran Club is here! Your God is here! Dear gentlemen, won't you join me in welcoming our God!" Seeing Dutch enter, Trelawny, who was sitting among the crowd, immediately stood up with a smile, then raised his arms and cheered.
As soon as these words were spoken, the veterans' wary gazes immediately dispersed. A group of people immediately stood up from their seats, eager to express their gratitude for Dutch's benevolence.
"Oh, dear sir, your kindness has allowed me to have a wonderful place to stay. Please allow me to offer you my highest respect!"
"Oh, so this is Mr. Dutch? Oh, dear Mr. Dutch, I will forever remember your kindness!"
"Oh, Mr. Dutch, thank you, thank you for your help to us! This damned country, we gave it everything, but in the end, even survival became a problem. Only you extended help to us during the darkest time of our lives. Oh, my God, I don't even know how to express my gratitude to you!"
Looking at the excited retired veterans who wished they could kneel and kowtow to him on the spot, Dutch's face was full of smiles. He extended both hands, pressing them downwards, then loudly declared.
"All right, gentlemen, thank you for your devotion to me. However, your lives are still difficult; it's merely that a little warmth has been added to your hardships.
But I do not want you to live in hardship forever!"
"Whoa!" As soon as Dutch uttered these words filled with love, the crowd of retired veterans below immediately erupted in an uproar.
What is God? This is God!
When others completely ignored them, when other owners tried every means to oppress them, when life forced them to lower their heads, there was actually someone who stepped forward, giving them hope to survive, and even wanting to rescue them from their plight!
If he wasn't God, who was God!