That is until one day. His father died under mysterious cirumstances, a large slash mark from his left shoulder to his lower right stomach. His last words to Johnny were "masked one-eyed sword-slingin' varmint...!" Johnny took over his father's job as sheriff of the town. Not long after, people were being reported missing at a nearby ravine. Sensing grave danger, Johnny went to investigate.
What he found was a dark and narrow gorge into which it would be easy for someone to fall and into the river below. After a while, Johnny gave up his search, convinced there was nothing to be found. Then just as he was turning to go home, his horse fell out from under him. Johnny was suddenly surrounded by several masked strangers with the design of an eye on their heads and brandishing saber-like swords. They looked just how his father had described his killer! Johnny jumped off his horse and drew his gun. "C'mon! I'll kill y'all!!!", he challenged. He fired several rounds from the gun given to him by his late father. The only thoughts running through his mind were to avenge his father by killing these unknown assassins and achieve his lifelong dream: to become a hero. However none of the bullets he fired found their mark. When next he looked, a man in a foreign looking white robe, black hair tied in a topknot with half of his face encased in a metal mask was before him. The man wielded two of the swords his enemies had, one long and one short. And then, in a flash of light, the man slashed Johnny in the face. Johnny fell from the cliff and down to the river, screaming with blood flowing from his face.
Johnny woke up in pain. He was in a strange unfamiliar house. Sazuki, a lifelong friend of his father's from Japan had saved him. Johnny related the incident at the ravine to Sazuki in hopes that Sazuki would teach him Japan's legendary fighting techniques, which he knew he could not beat his strange enemies without. Sazuki, a master of these arts, agreed to teach him, knowing Johnny's life would be forfeit otherwise. A few days later, Sazuki, his granddaughter Hatsune, and Johnny departed for Japan.
Many years have passed...
Johnny is now a master (we'll see about that) of his own traditional fighting method and Japan's. He wields his gun AND the blade of Nippon's swordsmen with equal skill. He commits himself to his new name...ZAN. And one day, he will return to his hometown and bring justice with him.
**Additional Information:
He knew he looked strange enough to attract attention. He was clad in the outfit of someone from America's West but there was a Japanese touch to it with a Japanese character on his vest's rear, and to complete the East-West look he had a distinctly Japanese katana sheathed on his left side. Several whispers touched his ears, one of which, if he was not mistaken, was "Gaijin Swordsman". Seemed like some of the locals knew of him. He secured both hands on his sword and revolver, increasing the chances of his averting a conflict in a crowd such as this. "Some old-timers around here don't like how the USA forced Japan out of its' isolation and eventually led to the Meiji Restoration. And they'd be looking for someone like me to use for a punching bag."
His thoughts were disrupted by a woman's scream. A young girl maybe sixteen, or eighteen perhaps, burst out the door of the eatery near him. She fell to the floor, crying and screaming for help. Several bystanders walking past suddenly developed a keen interest in anything except the girl. "Looks like no one wants to interfere with Hirobumi Matsumori's gang, or they'd be jumping to this girl's help." Everyone knew that this part of the town was gang land. The local law enforcement was turning a blind eye to it and no one wanted to get involved. "Except for maybe one person." He watched as four men approached the girl, leering smiles on their faces. One of them grabbed the girl from behind and said "C'mon babe! I'll take you on!" The girl cried for help. "Please! I'll give you anything! Don't hurt me." One of the other three spoke, his toothy smile widening into a demonic grin. "Biggest thing you can give us, little lady, is a hot night with just you and me!" The four started to argue on who would have fun with the girl first and the girl continued to plead, both to her would-be rapists and to anyone in reach.
That was more than the Gaijin Swordsman could take. He reached up and flicked the barley stalk out of his mouth and started forward, his gait suddenly slow and deliberate. They were dragging the girl into the eatery when he coughed and spoke, putting an edge into his voice. "Y'know, sex without the other's consent is immoral. And I just happen to despise rapists, 'specially those who use young ladies."
The gangsters eyeballed the newcomer with a look of first surprise then scorn on their faces. The man who seemed to be their leader sneered. "Beat it, American scum, or we'll send you home in four different body bags!" As they spoke they withdrew several long knives. The Gaijin Swordsman yawned. "Naw, your kind are cowards. You molest little girls for fun. Doesn't make you much of a man to test your virility on someone so young." The leader frowned and pushed the girl aside, thumbed his own chest. "You got any idea who I am?" The American smirked. "You got any idea how little I care? If you maggots think I'm gonna back off and let you have fun just because you mistake me for some Hokkaido flower picker, maybe you'd better get used to careers as chicken feed."
The leader gave a snarl of rage and charged, dagger extended. The Gaijin Swordsman braced himself and at the last possible minute sidestepped, released his sword in a whistling silver arc, and brought it down. The leader turned and glanced in horror at his arm. There was now a bloody stump where his right hand used to be. On a scarlet puddle was the hand, fist still clutching the dagger. The leader ran off like a wounded animal, screaming and tears running down his face. The Gaijin Swordsman glanced at the others. "That's to show you I mean business. Let the girl go now and maybe I'll let you keep your hands." As they surged towards him, he shrugged. "Always the hard way."
He met the charge with a dash and thrust to the center man. His blade sprouted out the man's chest and the body fell back. As it fell, the Gaijin Swordsman held on to the man's body as it came down and he turned his own forward fall into a roll. This took him below the other two's dagger swings. He came back up facing his attackers and swept his sword into a defensive guard. "He got Gemma! Call for help!" One of the punks rushed back into the eatery and the remaining one faced the Gaijin Swordsman. The gangster approached, slipping his dagger from left to right as if to confuse him.
Exasperated, he came forward in a single motion and sidekicked the punk in the midsection. This prevented the man from catching his dagger. In a burst of speed, the Gaijin Swordsman slashed him upwards diagonally, brought the blade back down in the same diagonal direction, then twisted around and backhanded a cut across the man's chest. The punk held still for a minute, shock evident on his face. The three slashes had all taken barely a second and his knife had not hit the ground. There was but silence at first when the dagger at last clattered to the floor. The thug groaned and collapsed in a shower of severed body parts and blood. The Gaijin Swordsman shook his head. "You should really find a new line of work."
The Gaijin Swordsman turned at the sound of the eatery door flying open. Six men emerged with revolvers and rifles. One of them was the survivor. "Kill the bastard!!!", he screamed. Several shots rang out and he performed a backflip that took him away from their fire and landed him behind a barrel across the street, pulling out the six gun at his right. "Six guys for six bullets. If they all connect." When their shots ceased, obviously reloading, he rolled out of his hiding place, fanning his late father's weapon as he went. He tracked his gun along its' line of sight, watching his opponents fire back ineffectively. "Lousy shots all of 'em." He watched as each bullet fired from his own gun connected with either flesh or his opponents' guns. "YEAH! Wish Hatsune could've seen that!"
The survivors seemed in the proccess of reaching for other weapons, when the foreigner gave them a predatory grin and slowly started moving forward. They stood their ground at first, but when he lifted his sword to strike, they gave up and scattered away. He watched as they retreated. After a few seconds of silence and awaiting the arrival of more threats, the Gaijin Swordsman made doubly sure no other opponents remained and swung his sword in an arc, removing the blood off it. At the same time, he blew the smoke from his gun's barrel. He twirled both weapons on his hands and sheathed and holstered them respectively. "Hard training pays off. Still, those hoodlums were barely worth my time. I need a bigger challenge." He wiped some of the punks' blood off him and walked over to one of the gunmen's corpses. He took the man's rifle, examined it for a while. Not far from the trigger was supposed to be an inscription, but it was filed off. "Japan didn't manufacture this." The rifle was a .44 Winchester, among the standard issue rifles in the U.S. Cavalry. If his guess was correct, the filed-off words were supposed to be 'Property of U.S. Army'. A further search of their armaments turned up a .45 Colt revolver, arguably the best handgun in the West. "Where do these scorpions get their stuff?"
The girl he had just saved threw herself on him, crying once more but this time in thankfulness. "Thank you! Thank you, Mr. Gaijin Swordsman!" He smiled and gently pulled her away. "You're welcome, ma'am. You're safe now." He turned to leave but the girl held on, her innocent little eyes brightening. "Please, so I'll remeber you. Give me your name." He grinned. "Thought she'd never ask." Out loud he said, "My name is Zan! Don't forget it!" He then turned and ran off into the night, deeper into a world where there was need of a hero.
Zan the Samurai Gunman has come to Tokyo to turn out the lights.