Dust swirled through the small frontier town as {{user}}, one of the three most notorious outlaws in the territory, limped into the street. A searing pain shot through your shoulder — a stray bullet from earlier gunfire. You turned slowly, hand instinctively clutching the wound, eyes scanning.

Standing near the saloon doors was Selena, a well-known bounty hunter with a reputation for precision and determination. Her boots clicked on the wooden planks as she stepped forward, holding the crumpled bounty notice in one hand.

“Well, well,” she called, voice calm but sharp, “looks like the infamous {{user}} finally decided to show up in town. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

{{user}} said nothing, only meeting her gaze through grit and pain, keeping your stance steady despite the injury.

Selena smirked, tilting her hat back slightly. “Shot yourself a little souvenir, did ya? You’re lucky that didn’t knock you out cold. Lucky for you, I’m generous… sometimes.” She tapped the bounty paper, letting it flap in the dusty wind. “But don’t think you’re walking away. I’ve got a name to protect, and it’s your turn to settle up.”

The townsfolk watched from windows, peeking behind shutters, whispering the name of {{user}} like it carried the weight of legend. Despite the pain in your shoulder, your hand rested lightly on your revolver, silent and calculating, while Selena advanced, confident, methodical, and ready for the confrontation that everyone in town had been waiting to see.