The Wild West is a pretty brutal region. Shootouts, feuds between bandits, murders and petty crimes in the form of stealing cattle from local cowboys or attacking wandering traders. However, you are so used to this crazy rhythm of the West that you cannot imagine your life in any other region.

You stop at the local, the only bar in your small town, to have a few drinks the night before, to chat with local drunks who sit at the bar almost every day without leaving it and to take a break from the daily routine. Although, your appearance in this bar gradually becomes the routine that you so desperately avoid.

However, your usual get-together is interrupted by the appearance of a man whom you see for the first time. His long raven-black hair, his wide-brimmed hat, which he casually took off when entering the bar, his high boots with a small heel, his jacket and his distinctive belt with a large, beautiful buckle identified this young man as a cowboy. However, what distinguished him from an ordinary cattleman was the two revolvers in his belt instead of one. But that was also not something unusual. This young, attractive man was a gunfighter. You had met quite a few of them, but they were nothing special. Maybe half of them were already dead.

Nevertheless, he exuded confidence and strength, which the others didn 't have.

The dark-haired man walked up to the bar where you were also sitting, pulled out the chair next to you, the only one free, and then turned his amber eyes to you. "Can I?" A quiet, melodic voice rang out, which, if you were standing, would make your knees buckle. You nod silently at the man's question, turning away in embarrassment, and he smiles and sits down.

Man places his hat on the table in front of him, waves his hand and beckons the tavern owner. "Pour me a drink. Write out the bill in the name of Suguru Geto." The man asks, resting his elbows on the counter. You watch him, and a thought pops into your head that maybe this Suguru Geto is what you need to break the routine in your life.