A group of six galloped across the snow-covered ground for the better part of the morning before reaching a small hilltop.

  Arthur and Dutch reined in their horses at the crest, surveying the scene below through binoculars.

  As Stephen and the other three arrived, he lowered the binoculars and turned to address the group. "That son of a bitch is down there. We need to move fast. I just saw him look like he was about to bolt."

  "Let's go then." Stephen dismounted, Springfield Rifle in hand. "Want me to take the lead?"

  "No need. We haven't gotten to the point where we need an outsider to lead the charge."

  Dutch said bluntly, "Javier, Lenny, you two stay here and make sure no one escapes. Bill, take our friend Mr. Johnson down that path. As soon as we engage, you two follow."

  Dutch began issuing orders, leaving Stephen to shrug in response.

  Bill, the large man, led Stephen clumsily down a narrow trail.

  "If you ask me, those O'Driscoll gang bastards deserve to die," Bill growled to Stephen as they walked.

  "What's the beef? Got a history with them?" Stephen asked curiously.

  "Of course. We've been fighting each other for years," Bill whispered. "Enough chatter, we're almost there."

  The two cautiously descended the hill, taking cover beside a cowshed.

  There were plenty of men inside, at least twenty.

  Perhaps due to their numbers, or simply out of habit, the men were drinking, sleeping, and generally lacking any semblance of vigilance. They were completely unaware of the new additions to their camp.

  Stephen was itching for action, dreaming of a stealthy assassination spree.

  But with Dutch and Arthur yet to arrive, the two had to wait impatiently.

  Thankfully, the wait wasn't long. Soon, the two men approached cautiously, guns drawn.

  "Alright, let's get to work and send these sons of bitches to hell." Dutch, observing the unsuspecting O'Driscolls, raised his twin revolvers and opened fire.

  "Bang! Bang!"

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  The sharp reports shattered the silence. Two men sharing a drink fell face-first, each sporting a fresh bullet hole in their head.

  The camp erupted in chaos. Shouts of alarm, cries for help, and even some whimpering for their mothers filled the air in a cacophony.

  Their quality is really low. Stephen scowled at the gang.

  Stephen can't understand Colm that he recruit these useless people into the gang except for looking like a big gang. No wonder Van der Linde gang fight them for so many years with limited members.

  With Dutch's opening shots, the others joined in. Stephen raised his Springfield Rifle, dropping the lookout atop a rickety water tower with a single shot.

  One down. He quickly worked the lever to chamber another round. The rifle packed a punch and had a long range, but it had a single bullet in the chamber.

  But Stephen can't effort to buy a better gun, so he has to use it.

  If last night had been a sneak attack, with the full extent of the Van der Linde gang's skills unseen, now Stephen witnessed their true capabilities.

  Arthur, the crack shot, wielded his twin revolvers like the Grim Reaper himself, hitting whatever he pointed at.

  Even Lenny, Javier, and the seemingly dimwitted Bill beside Stephen proved to be capable fighters. Their marksmanship was impressive, and they had decent tactical awareness. Compared to the O'Driscoll gang, it was like a fight between pro and amateur.

  Even more surprising was Dutch, the Van der Linde gang's leader, who wielded a revolver as skillfully as Arthur!

  The two moved like harvesters, taking out nearly half the camp themselves!

  Stephen had just felled his fourth target when the fighting ended. He felt a pang of disappointment.

  "I underestimated you guys last night. You're really strong," Stephen said to Arthur with genuine respect.

  Arthur's hands moved like a blur as he reloaded his two complicated-to-reload revolvers with ease.

  He held up the guns, a cigarette dangling from his lips, conveying a "this is nothing" expression.

  "These guys are just lowlifes. They might not even be Colm's core strength," Stephen said, surveying the bodies.

  "Don't overthink it. Colm only cares about quantity, not quality. To be one of his henchman, you just need to be able to ride a horse, shoot a gun, and kill without blinking." Dutch said with contempt.

  As they spoke, gunfire erupted from the woods, sending everyone scrambling for cover.

  "More men are coming out of the woods!" Javier shouted.

  A group of armed men burst from the trees. They were clearly more O'Driscoll gang members.

  "Arthur, do we charge or wait for them here? Your call," Dutch said casually, seemingly unfazed by the newcomers.

  Before Arthur could answer, Stephen tossed his Springfield Rifle to Arthur, drew his pistol and knife: "I'll go."

  The words had barely left Stephen's mouth when Dutch and the others saw a black shadow dash past. By the time they reacted, Stephen was already far ahead.

  Stephen wasn't just showing off. He had his own motives.

  Like he thought, this is a typical gang that the strong has the power.

  Although Stephen had the upper hand last night, it was still a sneak attack. Therefore, Stephen needed to display his skills and impress these guys.

  Although Stephen didn't intend to join the gang, they were his only chance for revenge. Cooperating with Dutch and Arthur was inevitable.

  And Sadie had nowhere else to go. Besides, he himself was still homeless.

  So he needed to show off his skills to gain an advantage in their cooperation. Only then could he secure more influence.

  Stephen knew his limits. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't match Arthur and Dutch's marksmanship. At best, he'd be on par with Bill and Javier. So he'd use his own strengths to win the battle.

  The dense, rugged forest was the perfect place to shine!