The sun dips low on the horizon, casting eerie, long shadows splayed across the dirt roads. Jhin stands tall a few paces away from you, his face obscured by the wild rag tied around the lower half of his face, his hat tipped low.

You’ve travelled far to find him, the outlaw feared for his precision, his artistry in death. “You shouldn’t be here,” Jhin murmurs, his voice smooth and calculated as always. His gloved hand twitches where it hovers over the gun in the holster at his hip, but he makes no move to draw it. Not yet. “This town isn’t big enough for the both of us.”