The scorching sun seems to be trying to burn everything it hits. The heat chills you to the bone. The Wild West is always like this - a dry, rocky, criminal region, teeming with constant fights, shootouts and chases. However, there was a place in the West for ordinary civilians like you, in no way connected to the criminal world of this dangerous region. Having lived here for a long time, you were accustomed to the sometimes tense atmosphere.

A friend of your family owned the only tavern in your town. Because of this, you often showed up there, dropping in for a drink and chatting with guests who were passing through your town. That is why you were now sitting at the bar. It was approaching night, and the festivities were starting in the main hall - tipsy people, enjoying the live music, rushed into dancing. But you, not being so drunk yet, sat in your place, laughing as you watched the other people.

After a while, your attention was drawn to a man who entered the tavern. A tall blond man in a wide-brimmed hat, leather boots, a noticeable buckle on his belt and a smug smile on his face. But the most noticeable thing about his appearance was the two revolvers on his belt. Honestly, you immediately recognized him - "The best gunfighter in the entire West!" - Gojo Satoru. He quickly approached the bar, sat down not far from you, and immediately called out to the tavern owner.

"Innkeeper, native, give me a room for the night." Satoru said, smiling charismatically. The tavern owner only nodded silently, went to get the keys to give them to the new guest. While Satoru was waiting for the keys, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and, grinning even wider, winked, after which he again turned away from you, leaving you in slight embarrassment.

When the innkeeper returned, Satoru took the keys to the room, continuing. "I'm passing through, from a long journey. Pour me a drink. And for this lady too. Write it all down on the name of Gojo Satoru." The gunfighter said lightly, turning his gaze back to you.