Chapter 238: Dutch, Long Time No See
Shady Belle Camp.
As night slowly fell, Dutch called on Hosea and Arthur to attend the mayor’s banquet.
Oh—and Bill came along as well, mostly to make up the numbers.
Bill was chosen simply because there wasn’t anyone more suitable. In terms of background alone, he had once been a soldier, which gave him a higher political standing than most members of the Van der Linde Gang—even if he’d long since been discharged.
It also showed just how seriously Dutch was taking this banquet.
Before setting out, he made everyone bathe and even spritz on some cologne.
They didn’t ride horses either, instead spending money to rent a luxurious carriage.
Others might not have cared, but Dutch did.
To him, these details mattered. They made their status seem elevated—an expense he considered necessary.
Inside the carriage, the four men sat in formal wear, laughing loudly.
“We look ridiculous.”
“Don’t we just.”
“I’ve never been to a banquet in my life.”
“Honestly, neither have I.”
“I used to go all the time. You could steal some really good stuff.”
“Oh no, no, no—no stealing. We’re here to make proper friends.”
“What kind of friends?”
“Well, we don’t know yet. We’ll play it by ear. All we know for sure is that we’re going to the mayor’s banquet.”
Inside the carriage, Dutch pulled out a bottle of expensive champagne. At moments like this, he was always willing to spend.
The four of them chatted freely, their spirits high.
For Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill alike, this was without a doubt the largest banquet they had ever attended.
Especially for Dutch—even though he knew Bronte had ill intentions, he couldn’t help himself.
Saint Denis, the largest city in the West.
If Valentine was a symbol of civilization, then Saint Denis was civilization itself. And this mayoral banquet represented the high-society life Dutch had always yearned for.
At last, the carriage arrived at the entrance to the mayor’s mansion.
Armed guards stood watch, along with several servants from the mayor’s household.
Dutch stepped down from the carriage, produced his invitation, and handed it to the servant at the gate.
“Evening, gentlemen,” he said with a friendly smile.
The servants showed little reaction to their arrival. After glancing at the invitation and seeing Bronte’s signature, one of them spoke.
“I’m sorry, but since last year’s incident, the mayor no longer allows firearms at official events.”
The color drained from Dutch and the others’ faces. They hadn’t known about this rule.
That single sentence also revealed that this was their first time attending the mayor’s banquet.
The servant mentioned “last year,” meaning this had long been established. The mayor had hosted countless banquets since then.
Not knowing something so basic meant Dutch and his group clearly weren’t considered important figures.
Dutch removed his revolver from his belt and handed it over, then turned to Arthur and the others.
Hosea, Arthur, and Bill could only comply, taking out their own weapons and passing them to the servant as well.
“Luca will escort you to Mr. Bronte,” the servant said. “He should be waiting for you.”
The servant didn’t search them. After all, they were invited by Mr. Bronte himself.
Bronte held considerable influence in Saint Denis and wouldn’t do anything that might offend his guests. Besides, judging by their attire, they didn’t look like they could be hiding weapons.
Just as Dutch and the others were about to head inside—
Trappett, who had been standing guard at the entrance, suddenly emerged from within. Faced with a Saint Denis officer, Dutch stepped aside to let him pass.
At the same time, the sound of another carriage approached from the street.
Spotting it, the servant hurried over to greet the newcomers, momentarily forgetting about Dutch and his group.
He recognized the luxurious carriage at once—it belonged to Davey Land, one of the mayor’s most important guests that evening.
Curious, Dutch and the others paused and looked over.
A woman stepped down from the carriage, wearing crystal shoes and a red gown, sensual yet elegant.
“Greetings, Miss Stella,”
Trappett said respectfully at her side.
Seeing a police officer behave with such deference, Dutch and the others immediately realized she was someone important.
Yet she didn’t move away, and Trappett remained slightly bowed.
That meant there was still someone else inside the carriage.
“Greetings, Mr. Land.”
Moments later, a man dressed in a pure white formal suit stepped down.
That face was instantly familiar to Dutch and the others.
They recognized him at a glance—it was Davey.
After all, they had spent years together day and night. Even now, dressed in expensive formalwear, Davey looked almost like a different person.
“Dutch, long time no see.”
“Hosea, Arthur… oh, and Bill.”
Davey naturally spotted them as soon as he stepped down.
He hadn’t expected to run into them at the entrance like this—it certainly wasn’t intentional.
“Long time no see, Davey,” Dutch replied.
Dutch’s gaze was dark. He had known Davey would be at the banquet, but he hadn’t wanted to meet him here.
He hated Davey. Everything Davey had done lately only served to highlight Dutch’s own failures.
Everyone in the gang could see it.
That was why, even when gathering information, they avoided mentioning anything related to Davey at all.
Author's Note
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