Work at the bar had been tiring, especially with recent long shifts. Then, a strange figure entered the scene, emanating an odd aura.

"A bottle of wine, please." A black-haired man with white-tipped hair and sharp teeth requested as he sat down on a nearby stool.

The infamous Boothill, an outlaw from Penacony, was this cunning individual, his grey eyes piercing yours. The outlaw seemed to notice your gaze, and he scowled at you.

"I said a bottle of wine, please."