The West Texas Military Academy.
"Doug, come here."
The boy looked up from his book and stood up with a discipline that belied his fifteen years. Dressed neatly and with an air of refinement, the boy approached his mother.
"Mother, you called for me?"
His tone was so formal that it almost seemed more suited to a soldier addressing a commanding officer, but his mother, Pinky, didn't mind. If anything, she was even more exacting in her manner.
"I've succeeded in contacting Congressman Theobald Otjen."
The boy's eyes sparkled at that moment. The congressman himself was of little importance.
What mattered was...
"He is willing to give you an opportunity for admission. However, he said the final recommendation will be decided through an exam."
"I will pass, without fail."
"Good. That's why I've arranged for the principal of Milwaukee High School to come and tutor you. He's not someone easily brought in, so you must never take his teachings lightly."
"I will bear that in mind."
"And..."
Pinky pointed to something on the table.
Doug quickly, but not hurriedly, turned his head. But he couldn't help the tremor in his eyes.
There, on the table, was Kid Kevin's Home Defense, volumes one and two, no less.
Why on earth?
The boy, who had learned to ride a horse and shoot a gun almost as soon as he could walk and talk, was nearly overcome with cognitive dissonance at the thought of such a children's book in his home.
"Read it."
"But, Mother. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if this is a book I should be reading."
Of course, he had heard of it. Wasn't it the top bestseller sweeping across America?
And it was written by none other than Mark Twain, the celebrated father of American literature.
As part of his cultural education, the boy had read some of Twain's works. However instead of Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn, it was something like The Gilded Age.
He had tried to read the former, but fairy tales... they felt far too soft for him. That's why he hadn't read Kid Kevin either.
Of course, if asked whether he wanted to read it or not, he would say he did.
He'd secretly envied his friends when they read the book, conducting experiments, or setting traps...
But still, it felt unbefitting of a soldier's dignity, so he'd held back!
"This book is currently a hot topic in the army."
"Then I must read it."
The boy spoke so quickly that even he was surprised.
Fortunately, his mother only looked momentarily puzzled and didn't suspect that a deep-seated desire within her son had been exposed.
"Right now, only a few units are conducting trials with it, but if its efficacy is proven, it's likely to be adopted as doctrine across all units."
"Even if not..."
"Most soldiers will be learning basic survival skills from this book, so it would be wise to read it to empathize with them."
Of course, she herself was not entirely pleased with the popularity of such works.
Already, some mothers in her circle had started 'exchange clubs' to swap duplicate kits, and seeing the informal second-hand trading made her stomach churn.
But all of this was part of her efforts to raise her son as someone who wouldn't be ashamed of being a 'general's child.'
As a 'general's wife,' she was prepared to do whatever it took for that cause. Her son spoke to her with similar resolve.
"Understood. I will learn and master this thoroughly and ensure my admission to West Point. Mother."
"I trust you."
Douglas.
She nodded as she called her son's name.
***
Texas has always been in the southernmost part of the United States.
Bordering Mexico, it's a fertile agricultural area that ranks first in the nation for livestock and meat production. The term "Texas Cowboy" would remain popular into the 21st century, and Texas itself became a stronghold of Dixie and white supremacist conservatism.
What does that mean?
It means they hate Mark Twain almost as much as Lincoln.
"A traitor who defends black slaves and women!!"
"He enlisted in the Confederate army but never fired a shot and deserted! How can he be the father of American literature?!"
"But the writing is good..."
"Are you a damn Yankee!? Hang him!!"
It had only been thirty years since the end of the Civil War.
Countless former plantation owners, who would rather fill someone with lead than waste time arguing that blacks and women should have the same voting rights as them, still gritted their teeth in anger.
The city folk weren't much different.
Where did all those freed slaves from the hated cotton fields go? Naturally, many of them ended up as low-wage labourers in urban areas like Houston, Dallas, and Fort Worth. It became common for white city dwellers to compare them to cockroaches and rats, openly talking about exterminating them.
But then, their sworn enemy, Mark Twain's new book— Kid Kevin's Home Defense —hit them like a storm.
"What is this? Did that traitor Mark Twain write another book?!"
"Don't even bother looking at it! Boycott any bookstore that stocks it! No, burn them down!!"
At first, they resisted fiercely, just like always.
But not all Texans were white.
Initially, the book was bought by black bookstores, where they appreciated the renowned author's support for their cause. Then, some white people who were sympathetic to blacks also made purchases.
And just like that, a dam that had held firm for ages started to crack.
"Well... it is pretty entertaining."
"Now I see why those blacks have been going to work so freely these days—it's because of this book?"
"It is useful. With this, I can leave my kids at home and still tend to the farm."
"Hey, stop reading it! You're not supposed to enjoy it!!"
Texans might be fiercely conservative and racist, but they were also among the Americans who still held onto the frontier spirit the most.
If they hadn't cherished the romance of the Western frontier, how would they have ended up in this land where Mexican bandits frequently roamed?
It was no surprise how they reacted to Kid Kevin, a book that embodied the 'frontier spirit' and demonstrated how complex, detested scientific knowledge could turn into surprisingly practical everyday wisdom.
Texans naturally, and gradually, found a place in their hearts for Kevin.
"Well, Kevin's mother seems pretty impressive—taking down a wolf with one shotgun blast?"
"Yeah... I suppose so? And Kevin's uncle, even though he's black, he does seem reliable."
"You're crazy, crazy!! Are you out of your mind?!"
"Mark Twain's ideological corruption is taking over Texas! We must burn that damn book immediately!!"
"Oh, then why don't you teach us how to make booby traps?!"
As satisfying as it was to vent their hatred after drinking, once sober, they were still the same anxious parents who had to leave their kids behind to work.
Moreover, this was Texas, the sacred land of the Western frontier, where Mexican bandits and tornadoes could wipe out homes and farms at any time.
In such a place, it would be strange if Kid Kevin, a book that taught self-defense, wasn't popular.
Even when Kid Kevin Volume 2 was released, complete with a random experiment set, and the price nearly doubled per copy, sales still increased almost three to four times.
"It was a hassle figuring out what was needed and what wasn't, but now that everything's included, it's quite convenient."
"Exchanging? No need for that girly nonsense! I'll just make two and buy more when I have time!"
... Of course, this surge in popularity might have also been due to the region's unique macho culture.
In any case, this led to a positive shift in Mark Twain's image.
Of course, it was still a shift from "damn traitor" to "a traitor, but at least useful," but a rise is a rise.
"Huh, the mood in this town is impossible to pin down."
William, a banker who had recently moved to Houston, chuckled as he shook his head.
The memory of people condemning Mark Twain was still fresh in his mind, but today the public opinion has shifted to a love-hate relationship...
His friend Richard, a real estate agent, shrugged and said, "What does it matter? Thanks to this, we've got more people with guts. Even those undeveloped lands that wouldn't sell are moving now when we advertise them as 'Untamed Frontier with Kid Kevin!' "
"Isn't that a scam?"
"So what? I'm even giving away a copy of the book. That's pretty ethical, don't you think?"
It only costs 75 cents more anyway. William gave a hollow laugh and shook his head.
Anyway, he had nothing to say.
Partly because he was a newcomer from North Carolina, but more fundamentally because...
"So, how's it going with you lately?"
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb—I hear you're doing quite well."
Looks like my tip paid off.
Richard chuckled as he patted William on the shoulder. William, sweating nervously, responded as casually as he could.
"Oh, well. I got promoted thanks to developing a new financial product."
"I saw it too. It looked pretty solid—high returns and good credit ratings for early investors. I hear it's already yielding profits?"
"Well, that's..."
It was structured to be that way.
However, William simply nodded and spoke.
"Y-yes. Right now, we're recruiting for the fourth round of investors."
"Come on, you should have told me about this! You're not looking down on me just because I lost the governor's race, are you?"
"Ahem, cough. Of course not."
How could he spin this? After rolling his eyes for a moment, William hastily crafted an excuse, desperately trying to explain.
"Well, even though the returns are high, it's still an investment. I didn't want to put my benefactor at risk."
"Hahaha, I get it. I get it. I was just kidding."
"Haha..."
"Thanks for looking out for me, William."
With that, Richard excused himself, saying it was time to get back to work, and returned to his real estate office.
William, sweating nervously as he saw his guest off, let out a deep sigh and staggered into his room.
His eyes fell on the articles filling the room—clippings of last year's reports on the 'Barings Scandal' out of Britain.
He walked through them and sat down at his desk, which was covered with a detailed report on a bill being prepared by the British financial authorities, and his prized possession, Vincent Villiers.
"Listen up, Porter. This is what was in the report submitted by the author of this book when I was at the London Stock Exchange. With this one big score, we could grab all the wealth for ourselves! We could finally live like kings!"
"Yes, this one big score. If I can just make it big this one time and then get out..."
A dark gleam flickered in his eyes.
William Sydney Porter, a banker at the First National Bank of Austin, could not resist the allure of striking it rich.