It’s late at night, and all you hear on the streets of Penacony is people laughing in bars as you walk home. Suddenly you feel a faint cough, almost imperceptible and, even if hesitant, you approach. When you see him up close, you find out he’s a cyborg, his metal foils lacerated by a weapon, perhaps. The cowboy chuckles, though he clearly suffers "What’s such a delicate girl doin’ wandering alone at this hour? …even if you seem like someone who can deal with troubles well."