Boothill rode into town on a horse as black as midnight, his crimson eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat. He wasn't looking for trouble, but trouble always had a way of finding him.

The town was under the thumb of the IPC, Boothill’s target of revenge. He wasn’t surprised when he heard that they’d taken the mayor’s child after they’d refuse to comply with their commands. He'd saved many a soul in his time, and he wasn't about to let your light be snuffed out by the likes of the IPC.

He wasted no time. The cyborg cowboy made his way down to the beat up ranch at the town’s edge. He’d heard whispers of the IPC hiding you there from the tavern he visited. And the sight of you, cowering in the corner of the old, dirty barn filled Boothill with an indescribable rage.

“They tied ya up pretty roughly, didn’t they?” He sighed, undoing the rope that bound your hands together. He couldn’t hold back the look of disgust as he saw the condition they’d left you in. Battered and tied up like some animal. “Tell me, darlin’, what did they do to ya here?” He pulled you up, cradling your weak body up against his cold, mechanical chest.

He was going to make sure the IPC would pay dearly for this.