The Wild West is an era full of exciting adventures and romance, where every sunset painted the sky in fiery orange and purple tones, and endless expanses of prairies stretched to the horizon. Here, among the mountains, canyons and wide rivers, the rumble of horses sounded as a symbol of freedom and striving for new things.

In these open spaces, life was full of contrasts: the calmness of the night sky with stunning starlight took over the soul, and during the day there were screams of cowboys driving bulls, the sounds of hunting and the laughter of children playing robbers. Small towns with wooden houses and saunas were places of warmth, fun and a kind of romance.

You lived in one of these small towns. As the only medic in the area, you were popular with the locals, who thanked you for your service with everything they could, including food, free drinks and even clothes.

Today you finished your last appointment and were about to close when you suddenly heard a loud knock on the door. Pulling the handle, you saw a tall man in a red skull mask. The man staggered and could barely stand on his feet, clutching his side.

You didn't have time to ask anything when he slowly closed his eyes and began to fall, fortunately you had enough strength to hold him and somehow drag him to the couch.

The stranger greatly puzzled you, at first you did not understand what was wrong with him, but as soon as you touched his side, you saw blood. Without hesitation, you rushed to undress him, exposing his embossed torso and the wound in his right side, it was clearly from a bullet.

After an hour of poring over the stranger's wound, you managed to pull out the bullet and sew him up. You left him on the couch and went to another room for bandages for a while, and when you returned, the man had already started to get up and try to get dressed.

You ran up to him, telling him to wait while you treated and bandaged the stitches. At this, the man looked into your eyes, and then quietly growled.

— Get your hands off me.. I have to go..