"Bang, bang, bang!"

  "Hurry up, you idiots! Hand over all your money!"

  A burly man in black, wearing a green bandana, charged onto the train, waving two revolvers.

  Seeing this, the passengers knew they'd hit the jackpot - in a bad way.

  Train robberies were nothing new in the West.

  The man fired three shots into the ceiling of the train, silencing the screams stuck in everyone’s throats.

  He looked at the terrified people before him, letting out two triumphant laughs.

  "Go on, search them and take all their money and jewelry. Don't leave a single copper!" he ordered his two henchmen.

  At his command, the two men behind him went to work. One carried a sack, the other gripped a rifle.

  Working efficiently, they quickly filled their bag.

  "One of you stay here and watch them, don't let them run. We're moving on to the next car."

  There were more than just these few involved in the robbery. Almost every car had a few members of the O'Driscoll gang.

  These guys were absolutely reckless. It wasn’t just about stealing money; anyone who resisted got a bullet.

  They even spotted a few pretty female passengers and immediately made plans to take them along for the ride.

  The train became a scene of misery. Many wanted to jump off and escape, but some of the bandits were guarding both sides of the train.

  They were riding horses, and anyone who jumped was met with a gunshot.

  They even had a dark sense of humor, shooting the ground beneath people’s feet, making them dance in terror.

  Such vile behavior filled everyone with seething rage, but they were too afraid to speak out.

  Stephen was hiding in the livestock car at the back of the train, arming himself one weapon at a time.

  Then he untied his horse and opened the door. He moved stealthily toward the front.

  He wasn't running away. This was an opportunity, and if he didn't seize it, who knew when he'd get another chance to deal with these scum.

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  He drew his blade and moved along the train.

  The next car was filled with passengers' luggage. Three guys were rummaging through piles of clothes, desperately looking for anything valuable.

  Closer now, one of the bandits tossed aside a bag, muttering "penniless," and headed toward the back of the car.

  As he passed a pile of junk, a glint of cold steel flashed behind him.

  In that instant, he thought he saw his own back, then the ceiling of the train, and then he closed his eyes forever.

  As the bandit's head and body fell separately to the ground, the other two were alerted by the strange noise.

  "Mark, what's going on?" one of them called out.

  "Oh, I just tripped, I’m fine," a muffled voice replied.

  Hearing this, the bandits laughed mockingly: "Haha, did you find something good? That's hilarious."

  "Yeah, found something really good."

  The muffled voice was of course Stephen. He covered his mouth with his arm, drawing their attention as he moved toward them.

  "What’s so good? Let us have a look," the two said, still laughing, as they walked over.

  "I found your heads!"

  Seeing his chance, Stephen exploded into action. His sword flashed in the air.

  In a single stroke, he slit the throat of the first man!

  The one behind was taken by surprise. Before he could react, the car was down to him and Stephen.

  He opened his mouth to shout, but the blood-stained sword at his neck choked back his scream.

  "Tell me, how many of you are there?"

  Stephen asked coldly, pressing the blade a little harder against his neck, cutting a small gash.

  Feeling the pain, the man frantically begged for his life: "I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything. There are about thirty of us, led by boss James."

  "Where's Colm?"

  "I-I don’t know." As soon as the man said it, Stephen pressed the blade harder.

  The man burst into tears: "I swear I don't know. Colm isn't with us..."

  Stephen brought the blade down, sending the unfortunate soul to his grave.

  James, Stephen had heard of him. He was a famous general under Colm, and a ruthless killer.

  Interesting, Stephen smiled. He gripped his sword and moved forward once more.

  By now, the robbery was nearing completion. These O'Driscolls were professional, you had to give them that.

  With their division of labor, it didn't take long for them to loot everything of value on the train.

  They even picked out several pretty women, tying them up with ropes, clearly planning to take them back to "enjoy" later.

  The leader, a guy named James, walked slowly to the side of the train, surrounded by his men.

  "Hurry up, we need to move. We're getting too close to Blackwater. If we don't move, the marshals will be here."

  At his command, the men loaded the stolen goods onto their horses.

  They'd had a good haul, each bag full to bursting.

  "Everyone accounted for? Let’s go."

  James waved his hand, ready to turn his horse around and retreat when a huge gunshot blew his head clean off!!

  Everyone froze in shock...

  What the hell was going on? Where did that shot come from? How could their boss just die like that?

  The O'Driscolls stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.

  Should they run? Or avenge their boss?

  The shot, of course, had been fired by Stephen.

  He didn’t know who he was shooting, he just saw that guy surrounded by a bunch of others with torches all around him. Figured he must be in charge.

  His right hand worked the bolt quickly, his eye fixed on the front sight of the rifle, focused on another man.

  Another shot rang out, and the head of the man he was aiming at exploded.

  He had to say, this lever-action was the best. So much better than his old Springfield Rifle.

  As Stephen worked the action and fired rapidly, three shots in quick succession, the O'Driscolls finally reacted.

  They spotted Stephen on the roof of the car and raised their weapons to return fire.

  Stephen waved cheerfully at them, then threw himself backward, disappearing inside the car.