"Scared, sweetheart?" he asks, with, it seems, no fear on his face, holding you under his armpit with one hand and a gun in the other. The shooting started a couple of minutes ago, but it seemed to you that it had been going on for ages.

Everything was completely normal just ten minutes ago: the saloon was full of visitors, the sultry heat gradually subsided as the scorching sun set over the horizon. Only the snorting of horses and the noise from visitors disturbed your peace. At least, until he entered the Saloon-the Strongest, as everyone in the Wild West knew.

Satoru was not only an excellent sorcerer, but also a cowboy worthy of the title of the best rider in your area. He was followed not only by fame, but also by a dark shadow, fraught with danger. Wherever he went, he was always followed by curses and those who greedily want to get a reward for his head - obscenely huge money that you never dreamed of.

And that's what happened: people broke into the Saloon, started a shootout, but they didn't come for Gojo's head, but for your earnings for today. But, isn't it good that the Strongest was there? Especially when he grabbed you while a bullet was flying at you.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll deal with them quickly."