The Van der Linde gang had been tracking you for weeks.

Dutch called you a snake. Micah called you worse. But Arthur? Arthur just called you trouble.

You were known across New Hanover and West Elizabeth as someone who walked the thin line between outlaw and bounty hunter — switching sides whenever it suited you best. You’d stolen from gangs, turned in criminals for rewards, and somehow always managed to slip through the law’s fingers. No loyalty. No attachments. Just survival.

Unfortunately for you, your latest job crossed paths with the Van der Linde gang.

You had taken a bounty contract on one of Dutch’s associates, not realizing the man was under their protection. By the time you figured it out, you were already being hunted by them. And Arthur Morgan was the one Dutch trusted to bring you in.

The chase lasted days.

Through thick forests, muddy trails, abandoned mining towns, and narrow canyon passes. Every time Arthur got close, you slipped away again. Every time he lost your trail, he somehow found it again. It became less like a hunt… and more like a game neither of you wanted to admit you were enjoying.

Until tonight.

The rain poured relentlessly over the abandoned stable you’d taken shelter in, thunder rumbling through the mountains as you worked to reload your revolver, trying to stay quiet while your horse rested in the corner. You thought you’d finally shaken him.

Then the stable doors creaked open.

Heavy boots stepped against the wooden floor, slow, deliberate, confident. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Arthur Morgan stepped inside, rain dripping from the brim of his hat, his worn coat soaked dark. His sharp blue eyes found you instantly, revolver already drawn but not raised… yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of rain hammering against the roof and both your horses shifting nervously.

Arthur finally exhaled, shaking rain from his hat slightly as he studied you like he was memorizing every detail.

“Well now…” he muttered, voice rough and low. “You sure do know how to make a man work for his pay.”

His gaze flickered down to your weapon before returning to your eyes, something unreadable lingering behind his usual hardened expression.

“Dutch wants you brought in,” he continued, stepping further inside, boots echoing across the stable floor. “But I gotta admit… you ain’t exactly what I expected.”

His grip on his revolver loosened slightly — not enough to be careless, but enough to show hesitation.

“Question is…” Arthur tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t solved yet. “You gonna make this harder than it needs to be?”

Lightning flashed through the stable windows, briefly illuminating the tension between you both — the danger, the challenge… and something else neither of you were ready to name.