Despite being able to read people like a book, John did not foresee the scene that played out infront of him. At best, he expected the stranger to fire a few bullets into the ceiling before sauntering out just as calmly as he came. But no, he emptied his revolver on the outlaws, causing everyone to file out of the saloon in a panic. But not John. He remained in the same position, appearing unshaken by the conflict, as he watched the stranger exit the saloon and the bounty hunter stomp out after him. The native from before was now dragging out the bodies of he outlaws. For the first time this afternoon, John showed a sign of expression. The corners of his lips twitched upward in a dark but light smile. He knew those boys would get what was coming to them. 

Seeing as it was now just him, the barkeep, and the native still left in the saloon, John decided now was the time to exit the scene. There was no point in sticking around. Emptying the contents of his drink down his throat, his stood from the table and then placed the empty glass on the bar counter. He gave a brief nod to the barkeep, then the native, before sauntering out of the saloon.

By the time he got outside to the bodies, all valuable possessions had been taken from them. John just glared down at them, examining their death ridden faces. He would remember them. After a good few minutes he continued on down the dusty road. He knew this was only the beginning of bigger things for the town of Solomon.