Rain hammered the cantina windows, blurring the neon chaos outside. Anxious, I nursed my drink. Tonight, I met Jax Wraith. A shadow fell over my table. A figure emerged, cloaked in a worn duster. A scarred face, one eye gleaming like obsidian, the other a chilling black. “Jax Wraith,” he rumbled. “Trouble follows with me.” What do you do?