Stephen knew the old man was going to make a move, and he was ready for it.

  But he honestly didn't expect the guy to turn on him so quickly. He didn't even bother pretending, just went straight for it.

  Luckily, Stephen reacted fast, throwing himself backward the instant the guy opened fire.

  But even the fastest man can't outrun a bullet, and Stephen was no exception.

  The shot hit Stephen squarely in the shoulder, the intense pain almost making him buckle.

  Fortunately, the force of the shot propelled him into the river.

  The calm surface of the water erupted in a splash, then slowly returned to stillness, a large patch of red swirling to the top.

  Old Larry looked mockingly at the water, "Some fool from nowhere, thinking he can deal in Del Lobos territory."

  He shook his head, tucked the pistol back into his pocket, and turned to his men behind him, "You two, go pull that guy out and take him out back to feed the dogs."

  With that, he turned to leave.

  *Thwack!*

  Just as the two men reached the riverbank, ready to jump in and retrieve the body, a dark figure suddenly burst from the water, charging straight at them!

  The two men stared in shock at Stephen emerging from the water, a wickedly sharp long knife in his hand.

  A flash of steel, and both men's throats were slit instantly. They collapsed to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.

  Old Larry heard the commotion behind him and turned back, curious.

  The sight almost scared him to death.

  Stephen, the same Stephen he'd just shot and killed, was standing right behind him!!

  A sharp long knife was held lightly against his neck.

  "Gotta say, for a bandit, you're seriously lacking in originality."

  Stephen grinned, shaking the water from his head, then glanced down at the wound on his left shoulder.

  "Damn, that stung. Good thing I was expecting it, or you might've actually gotten me."

  "H-How are you...?"

  Old Larry stared at Stephen like he was a ghost, stuttering, unable to find the words.

  How could anyone take a bullet to the shoulder, fall into the water, and still be so full of life?

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  How could he possibly climb out silently, acting like nothing happened?

  "It's been a while since I got hurt. That actually stung a little."

  Stephen shook his head, "Remember, next time, aim for the head or the heart. A shoulder shot ain't gonna kill anyone."

  "Especially not someone like me."

  Then, without waiting for a response, he swiped the blade and the guy's disgusting head went flying.

  Stephen flicked his wrist, sending the blood from the blade splattering on the ground in a bloody line.

  He looked at the bandits charging towards him with guns raised, a hint of disdain on his face.

  He quickly bent down, pulled the pistol from Old Larry’s body, and rolled behind a pile of goods on the riverbank.

  The men seemed hesitant, unsure whether to fire.

  They might hesitate, but Stephen wouldn't. He peeked out, sending one unlucky guy to meet his maker with a single shot.

  That really stirred things up. The remaining bandits went all out, unleashing a hail of bullets towards Stephen's position.

  Bullets hit the goods, and a strong smell of liquor filled the air. Stephen remembered that these goods were liquor.

  He couldn't stay here. He quickly raised his pistol and fired a few shots before rapidly relocating.

  He knew a few bullets weren't going to set all the liquor ablaze, but the liquor wouldn't hold up to many shots.

  If he ended up covered in alcohol and accidentally hit a spark, that would be ridiculous.

  His healing was good, but he couldn’t afford to waste it like this.

  He sprinted across the open docks, long knife in his right hand, pistol in his left.

  Then, he leaped forward, crashing through the door of a small wooden shack.

  His flying body slammed into the shack’s door like a cannonball, smashing it open.

  Stephen rolled into the shack.

  Inside, one bandit was trying to hide beneath the window when Stephen suddenly came crashing in beside him.

  He was about to raise his gun when Stephen burst through the door.

  Startled, the man frantically raised his gun, but Stephen dodged with a roll.

  By the time he reloaded, Stephen's long knife had arrived.

  With a flash of white steel, the man collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

  Stephen let go of the long knife, leaving it sticking out of the floor.

  He grabbed the rifle from the dead man's hands and kicked the corpse against the window to use as cover.

  Then, he stood up and fired a shot out the window.

  The shot hit a guy trying to flank him.

  The unlucky fellow had just reached the window when he saw a gun pointed at him and was shot dead before he could react.

  The whole sequence was smooth, effortless, and exceptionally stylish, a purely subconscious reaction.

  Stephen's incredible combat talent was on full display.

  Charles watched the whole scene through his binoculars.

  When he saw the man raise his gun and shoot at Stephen, his heart jumped into his throat.

  When Stephen fell into the water, he felt a wave of despair.

  He regretted letting Stephen go alone.

  But before he could even process it, Stephen burst from the water and completed a triple kill.

  Charles’ heart was on a rollercoaster, up and down so much that he was struggling to keep up.

  Now that Stephen was back, things should be alright.

  Then, he watched as the remaining bandits charged towards Stephen. He knew it was his time to step in.

  He quickly put away his binoculars, grabbed his bow, and hurried towards the docks.

  His burly frame weaved through the bushes near the camp like a fish, reaching the edge of the camp in moments.

  Thanks to Stephen, who had created chaos and drawn everyone’s attention, Charles was able to essentially stroll into the camp.

  He spotted a bandit nearby preparing to raise his gun and drew back his bow.

  Charles didn’t even aim. In a blink, an arrow flew toward the man.

  With a *whoosh*, the arrow pierced the man’s head.

  He didn't even have time to scream before he was pinned to the wooden wall behind him.

  The whole camp was filled with the sounds of gunfire, completely masking Charles’ movements.

  But instead of hiding in the shadows, he pulled out his sawn-off shotgun and blasted a man who was shouting orders.

  He didn't know how Stephen was doing, but he knew that if he could draw the enemies' attention, Stephen would be safe.

  Just like Stephen had said, Charles was reliable.