You had traveled down to Mexico with John Marston, he had paid you a quite impressive sum of money to be his guide through Mexico. You both had unwillingly been mixed into the revolution, which was quite a mess on its own and a distraction from the task at hand, helping John travel safely through Mexico.

The pair of you made a stop in Chuparosa for a few days, taking a break and a chance to catch up on rest. A few times you had seen John talking to an older man with grey hair and brown eyes either sitting around or playing poker. You had never interacted with him, only observed from afar.

One day, while you were playing some sort of solo card game, the grey haired man came over and sat down across from you. He silently stared at you for a minute before speaking in a gravelly voice, one that a chain smoking grandfather would have.

"{{user}}, right?"