Ghost and Soap

Once, a group of eight hunters managed to ambush them in a canyon. They demanded surrender. Soap shouted back: "We've got dynamite, whiskey, and a grumpy, masked immortal! You've got eight seconds!"

Within the seventh second, Ghost had already eliminated three in the shadows. Within the eighth, Soap blew up the rock behind them, blocking their exit. The remaining two fled on foot and never accepted another contract.

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Final Scene: The Tacit Agreement

At a river campsite, Ghost observes the campers. Soap sips from his bottle, finally quiet.

Ghost speaks, without looking at him: "They'll keep coming."

Soap shrugs: "Let them come. As long as we're together, no reward can compensate for this duo."

Ghost doesn't answer. But, for a moment, beneath the mask, something almost looks like a smile.

Soap: The Outraged Corncob
Soap would have a completely opposite and very noisy reaction.

Immediate Reaction:

I'd rip the poster off the post office wall, look at the drawing, and explode: "This crap doesn't look anything like me! Look at that chin, Ghost! They're paying me less than you?! Less?!"
The outrage would be half over the amount ("Only five hundred dollars? I robbed three banks last month!") and half over the horrible portrait. He would spend days drawing better versions of himself and thinking about sending them anonymously to the sheriffs.
He'd drink whiskey, become melodramatic: "Do you think my head is only worth that much, Ghost? After everything I've blown up for you?"

Strategy:

Soap would love to be hunted. For him, it's a game. I would set up ridiculous and dangerous ambushes: holes covered with leaves, dynamite in the most obvious paths, ropes that trip horses in mud puddles.
I would leave mocking notes in the hunters' camps: "They almost caught me! Kisses, Corncob," sometimes with an obscene drawing attached.
If a hunter truly cornered him, Soap wouldn't try to negotiate or run. He smiles, pulls a fuse, and says, "Let's see who runs faster, my friend."

The Dynamics of Being Hunted Duo
This is where the partnership shines and almost collapses under pressure.

While Ghost plots silent escape routes through canyons, Soap is bored and suggests blowing up the entire city "just to get the message across." Ghost ignore him. Soap insists. Ghost finally growls "Corn." And Soap, laughing, raises his hands "Okay, okay, Ghost."
The hunters following them don't understand the real danger: they aren't just two ordinary outlaws. They're a lethal symbiosis. Ghost is the cold brain that keeps Soap alive when his impulsiveness gets him into trouble. Soap is the chaos that saves Ghost when his calculating silence isn't enough.

The escape would be covered by the sound of explosions and a resigned Ghost, pulling his partner by the collar into an abandoned mine tunnel, with the sheriffs in hot pursuit.

Scene: The Reward Request

The local sheriff looks at the crude license plate and shakes his head, doing as much for the new deputy.
"The dead or the living are just details. Neither can catch the Spectre... and Sabugo, well, he probably blew up the prison and walked away lighting a cigar with the remains of the door. Just pray they don't owe you anything."

Phantom: The Hunter Hunted

For Ghost, being hunted is nothing new — it's been his natural state since he was reborn as the Spectre. The difference now is that the "Wanted" posters have multiplied the dogs on their trail.

Immediate Reaction:

• Absolute silence. He would pick up one of the posters, study the reward amount, the name of the sheriff who issued it, and the crude drawing of the masked face. He would calmly fold the paper and put it in his overcoat pocket as a reminder.
"They're paying a small price for my head. I'll have a word with whoever sets that price."
There is no visible anger. There is a calculating coldness that Soap has learned to fear more than any outburst of rage. Ghost doesn't run from bounty hunters—he hunts them first.

Strategy:

Instead of running, Ghost would do the opposite: he would infiltrate the territory of his pursuer. He would leave false clues, macabre notes, one of his "Twins of Damnation" resting on a hunter's pillow while he slept—a silent warning: "I could have killed you. Don't underestimate me next time."
He would use fear as a weapon. Within weeks, bounty hunters in the region would refuse to accept contracts bearing his name. The legend would grow: "The Spectre is not a man, he is a curse. Whoever hunts him disappears."

Soap: "MacTavish Corncob"
A young Scotsman who crossed the ocean with a barrel of whiskey, an easy smile, and a natural talent for getting into trouble. He was a miner, used dynamite to clear a path, and discovered a pyromaniac passion for explosions. Fantasma found him in an alley, cornered by six men, and saw in the chaos he caused a useful tool.

The opposite of his partner. He wears a faded brown hat, a leather vest, and a light linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves. His easy smile is always present, often stained with gunpowder or whiskey. He has a brown mohawk that he cuts himself with a Bowie knife.
Personality: He's the impulsive and boisterous heart of the duo. Talkative, irreverent, and provocative, he loves to annoy his silent partner, yelling "Shut up, Ghost!" before he can even say anything. Despite his playful demeanor, he's explosive, impatient, and fascinated by anything that explodes, but this energy hides a fierce loyalty. Ghost saved him and gave him a purpose, and Soap repays him by being the only person who dares to laugh in the face of death alongside the Spectre. His courage borders on insanity.
Weapons & Skills: His main weapon is a sawn-off shotgun, "Grandma," but his true art is demolition. He carries saddlebags full of dynamite sticks with fuses that he uses to set himself on fire, and a pile of homemade "gunpowder" cookies that defy the laws of chemistry. His aim with explosives is miraculous.

Dynamics in Action: In a bank or train robbery:
Ghost would study the target for days, devising a plan with surgical precision.
Soap would complain about waiting, drinking, and playing cards, saying, "Just choke the vault wall and be done with it."
At the time of the crime, Ghost would neutralize the guards in the shadows. Soap would make a triumphant entrance, blowing up the safe with twice the amount of dynamite needed, setting half the train car ablaze.
With the alarm sounding, Ghost would shoot him a deadly look from beneath his mask. Soap would shrug with a guilty smile. "You told me to have some fun, to have a little fun."

The Duo: "The Specter and the Corncob"

Known as the most efficient and absurd gunslingers in the West. The first is a silent and fearful legend; the second, an explosive loudmouth with a penchant for dynamite. Together they are a storm of lead and ash.

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Ghost: "The Specter of Manchester"

Legend says that once upon a time there was an ordinary man, a farmer with a family, until a band of looters left him with only ashes and a spat-out body. He died that day, and in his place the Spectre was born.

• Appearance: He is always wrapped in a long, dusty, and worn black overcoat. His face is a complete mystery; he wears a skull mask that appears to have been tied with bone or rawhide, with a wide black bronze hat obscuring his gauze. A blood-red scarf, stained with soot, covers the rest.
• Personality: Sparing with words, he communicates more with his icy gauze and the clinking of his spurs. He exudes a terrifying calm, even under crossfire, moving with the ghostly precision that gave him his name. He is a cold strategist who studies his prey like an animal. Despite his aura of death, he operates by a twisted code: he doesn't kill civilians, only those he considers "marked cards"—and his concept of "marked" is quite broad. The only breach in his coldness is his talkative partner, whom he protects with a silent, canine ferocity.
• Weapons & Skills: Wields two Colt Peacemaker revolvers, "Twins of Damnation," with supernatural speed and accuracy. He is a master of ambushes and tracking, capable of disappearing into an open plain like smoke.