Arthur pushed open the swinging doors of the Saint Denis saloon, the familiar clatter of spurs and piano music greeting him. The air smelled of whiskey, smoke, and sweat—normal for a place like this. He moved past the crowded tables, boots clicking on the wooden floor, scanning for an empty seat or a friendly face.

Then his eyes caught a commotion at a poker table in the corner. A stranger, red-faced and fuming, slammed their cards down and punched another player square in the jaw. Glasses rattled, coins skittered across the felt, and the saloon went momentarily quiet.

Arthur’s hand hovered near his revolver, though he didn’t reach for it. Calmly, he stepped closer, tipping his hat. “Now, hold on a second,” he said, voice low but steady. “Ain’t no reason to turn a card game into a fight.”

The stranger, spun around, eyes wild. “Mind your own business!” She snapped, chest heaving.

Arthur studied her for a beat, letting the tension hang. A faint smirk tugged at his lips despite the situation. “Could’ve fooled me. Looks like business just found me.”