Bandits Laugh at an Old Blacksmith, Not Realizing He Once Defeated the West’s Top Gunslinger

Bandits Laugh at an Old Blacksmith, Not Realizing He Once Defeated the West’s Top Gunslinger
"The aging blacksmith believed his notorious reputation as 'The Ghost' had died along with the screams of that fateful night at Thunder Valley, until a savage gang of outlaws forced him to prove why he was once the most feared man west of the Mississippi. Before we dive into this tale, let us know where you're watching from, and if this story touches your heart, make sure to subscribe because tomorrow's story will leave you speechless."
The evening sun cast golden rays across Willow Creek's main street as the steady ring of hammer on anvil echoed through the dusty air. The rhythmic sound had become as familiar to the townspeople as church bells on Sunday morning. Inside his workshop, Marcus Cole shaped glowing metal with measured strikes, his weathered hands moving with the precision earned through years of honest labor.
The blacksmith's broad shoulders, still powerful despite his graying hair, tensed slightly at the sound of approaching horses. Three riders appeared at his door, their shadows stretching across his workshop floor. Jake "Snake Eyes" Wilson and the Cutter twins dismounted, spurs jingling against the wooden steps. The smell of trail dust and cheap whiskey followed them into the shop.
Marcus didn't look up from his work, though his calloused fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his hammer. These weren't the usual ranch hands or farmers who frequented his shop - these men carried trouble in their stance and death on their hips.
"Hey, old timer," Wilson called out, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "Heard you're the only smithy 'tween here and Carson City."
Marcus took his time responding, carefully adjusting the piece of metal he'd been shaping. "That's right," he replied, his voice gravelly from years of breathing forge smoke. The scars on his hands spoke of honest work, but there were older marks there too - ones that told different stories.
Roy Cutter, the younger of the twins, spat a stream of tobacco juice that landed deliberately close to Marcus's boots. "Need some work done. Heard you're cheap."