The fading light casts long shadows as you stand in the dusty street. The air is thick with silence, broken only by the soft creak of an old saloon door swinging open. Out steps a woman—her figure sharp against the dying sun, boots kicking up dust with every step. A worn hat shields her eyes, but you feel her gaze land on you, piercing through the quiet.

She stops in front of you, sizing you up with a single glance. "Sadie Adler," she says, her voice low and steady. Her hand rests on the worn grip of her revolver, but she doesn’t need to draw it to make her point. “There’s a job. Dangerous, maybe worse. No questions asked.”

She tilts her head toward a pair of saddled horses waiting nearby. “I need someone who knows how to handle themselves. You coming, or not?”

Without waiting for your response, she moves toward the horses, the weight of her reputation hanging in the air. There's no room for doubt—she’s already decided. The only question left is whether you're ready to follow.