Stephen took the lead and charged forward.
The terrain here was rugged and rarely visited.
Perhaps no one had set foot here for centuries.
The trees were massive, thick enough that it would take two people to wrap their arms around them, which gave Stephen a significant advantage.
Stephen’s direct charge immediately drew the attention of the O’Driscoll Gang members, who raised their guns and opened fire on him.
But their aim was terrible, worse than many wandering outlaws.
Dutch was right.
These people only knew how to pull a trigger, and nothing more.
As Stephen moved at high speed, bullets struck the ground and tree trunks around him, blasting small holes everywhere.
Yet he remained completely calm.
Using the uneven terrain and the thick trees for cover, he continuously shifted his position and concealed himself.
They seemed to be firing intensely, but not a single shot hit him.
Just like that, Stephen broke straight into their ranks with almost no resistance.
As he looked at the men before him, he suddenly thought of Mr.
Jake’s tragic death, and a surge of fury rose within him.
Every one of these O’Driscoll Gang bastards deserved to die!!!
He quickly pulled the trigger of the revolver in his left hand.
Two shots rang out, killing a man who had been about to fire at him.
Then he raised the long knife in his right hand.
Without even exerting force, he used the momentum of his forward charge to let the blade glide cleanly across another man’s throat.
Blood burst from the man’s neck.
He clutched at it in panic, trying to stop the flow, but it was far beyond what his hands could contain.
Within moments, he collapsed to the ground.
Stephen killed two men in quick succession, yet his speed did not slow in the slightest.
If anything, he grew even faster.
He swept past three men like a ghost.
The first took a slash to the abdomen, his stomach split open.
The second was struck as Stephen flicked his wrist.
The long knife shot forward like a flash of white lightning and embedded itself in the man’s forehead.
The third died just as quickly.
As Stephen passed the second man, he grabbed the knife, pulled it free, then, holding it in a reverse grip, used his forward momentum to slice cleanly across the third man’s neck.
Only after Stephen had already run past did the man’s head roll to the ground.
A single strike.
Clean decapitation.
Such brutal and overwhelming force left everyone else completely stunned.
This was reality, not a game.
No one here could calmly watch their companions be slaughtered and still stand their ground.
When the O’Driscoll Gang members saw the men in front of them get killed so effortlessly, it went far beyond anything they could comprehend.
Being shot to death was something they could understand.
A sharpshooter was still within reason.
But someone charging straight at them with a knife?
Their bullets could not hit him at all, yet he could kill them with a single slash.
With their limited understanding, they simply could not grasp what was happening.
Faced with an enemy they could not defeat, their reaction was simple.
They panicked.
They screamed.
They ran.
The remaining four or five members threw down their weapons and fled, crying as they ran.
None of them even dared to turn back and fire a shot.
At that moment, it was not only the O’Driscoll Gang who were stunned.
Even Arthur and the others watching from behind were equally shocked.
“This guy…
I’m starting to feel lucky we didn’t die last night,” Lenny said, eyes wide, his mouth hanging open.
“He’s terrifying.
If someone like that set his sights on us, we’d be in serious trouble,” Javier Escuella said, shivering slightly as he watched Stephen cut through the enemy.
Thankfully, someone like that was not their enemy.
Stephen had no intention of letting the fleeing men escape.
His hatred for the O’Driscoll Gang burned fiercely.
With a casual motion, he drove his long knife into the ground beside him, then picked up a lever-action rifle the fleeing men had dropped and began picking them off one by one.
When he said his shooting was not great, that was only in comparison to the sharpshooters of the Van der Linde Gang.
It did not mean his aim was actually poor.
On the contrary, he was more than capable of hitting moving targets.
And very capable at that.
Gunshots rang out one after another.
The fleeing bandits fell one by one.
By the time Stephen emptied the rifle, none of them were left alive.
“Trash.” Stephen spat at the bodies, tossed aside the empty rifle, picked up his long knife, and walked back.
Applause rang out.
The five members of the Van der Linde Gang were already waiting for him.
Dutch stood at the center, clapping continuously.
“That was incredible.
I’ve never seen anything like it,” Dutch said without holding back his praise.
“You were unstoppable.
Like a god of war.”
“Just a small trick.
Nothing worth mentioning,” Stephen replied, resting the blood-soaked long knife on his shoulder as he faced them.
His tone sounded modest, but the confidence behind it was unmistakable.
“While you were showing your strength, we had the camp searched.
This is information about Colm’s train robbery.
Interested in working together on it?” Dutch handed him a map.
Stephen knew he had achieved his goal.
He did not even look at the map.
He had spent two years in this era and killed many people.
His hands were already stained with blood.
He could hunt down criminals as a bounty hunter and kill men like these without hesitation.
But robbing innocent people for money was something he still could not bring himself to do.
“You handle that yourselves.
I’m not taking part.
I only have one target.
Colm and his O’Driscoll Gang,” Stephen said plainly.
Dutch was not upset by the refusal.
Instead, he smiled even wider.
Ignoring the blood covering Stephen, he stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Trust me.
I think we’re going to work very well together when it comes to dealing with Colm.”
Stephen reached out and gripped Dutch’s hand firmly.
“Of course.
I have no doubt about that.”
…