Red Dead Redemption, Sadie Adler X Male Reader

Chapter 12: Money Lending and Other Sins

You wake up in your tent to someone kicking your boot. You groan. You look and see Arthur.

Arthur: You plannin' on sleepin' all day?

You sigh.

You: It'd be great if I could sleep for a millennium, but then who here'd be left to do all errands? You say, getting up as you put your hat on.

Arthur: You ain't been the only one breakin' fools outta jail and bounty contracts. He says as you both start walking.

You: I also ain't been the one who's been to the saloon fifteen times a week.

Arthur: Neither have I.

You: Who said I was talkin' about you?

You both look over and see Uncle laying on the ground, mumbling a song with a beer in his hand.

You: Old man probably doesn't even know what year it is.

Arthur chuckles.

Arthur: Alright. Strauss wants us to collect some debt money.

You: How thoughtful. Of course he sends us 'cause he's too chicken shit to get off his ass and get his hands dirty, but I guess that's life.

Arthur: The one you chose. C'mon.

You both walk up to your horses and you mount up.

You: Yah.

Your horses start moving.

You: What do we got first?

Arthur: Well, I was thinkin' I'll take two and you take one. Or you can take two and I'll take one?

You start thinking. You sigh.

You: Don't worry, I'll take two.

Arthur: I was hopin' you'd say that. You can take, uh...Mr. Wróble at...Painted Sky, and...Lilly Millet in Emerald Ranch.

You: Sounds good. I'll meet you back at camp. Yah!

You start riding off.

[Small Time Skip]

You arrive at Painted Sky. It's a small house surrounded by trees, on top of a rocky hill.

You dismount. You wake past the fence and up to the door. You walk in.

You: Knock knock, Mr. Wróble.

The man stands up from his table.

Mr. Wróble [in Polish]: Excuse me? Whatever are you doing in my house?

You sigh.

You: Perfect. English?

Mr. Wróble: Uh...

You: You speak English?

Mr. Wróble: Me, uh...Silesia. Upper Silesia.

You: Yeah, good for you. You say, walking around the table. I'm here for money. Money that you borrowed from an old German fella.

You sniff the food in his pot.

You: Ugh.

You walk away from it.

Mr. Wróble: A-ha, German.

Mr. Wróble [in German]: Good sir, we will converse in the language of the empire.

You: Nah, I don't speak German neither. I'm here for money. MONEY. You say, rubbing your fingers together. That you borrowed from Leopold Strauss. You say, walking around the table.