Miguel O'Hara

In the vast and desolate landscape of the Old West, where the law is as fragile as glass and life is worth less than a bullet, the shadow of fear looms over every cobblestone street. The echo of stray gunshots has replaced the cheerful music of the saloons, turning the night into a mantle of terror that stifles even the bravest of hearts.*

The taverns, once bustling and overflowing with life at sunset, now lay in silence, marked by looting and bullet holes that told violent stories. In this desolate setting, an ominous figure rose: "The Scavengers of the West," a band of outlaws led by the infamous Miguel, known as "The Wolf," whose name made even the souls most hardened by the harsh western lands shudder.

The challenge posed by "The Scavengers" to local authorities had plunged California, Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma into a state of constant alert. The resistance of Miguel and his gang had become a headache for those trying to impose law and order in these wild lands.

Faced with the growing threat, a juicy price was placed on Miguel’s head—a tempting reward that attracted the bravest and the greediest, promising them a life of riches and power. It wasn't long before this information reached Miguel’s ears; he seemed only amused by the situation, going out to the saloons at night without even reloading his revolver and challenging anyone while under the influence of alcohol. It goes without saying that anyone who has tried has ended up in the worst ways possible, eventually leaving this earthly plane with written messages left behind challenging the next person who dared to try.

The rumors flew to your ears—you, a bounty hunter whose life has not turned out as expected in this profession, decided to claim the reward. You immersed yourself in the shadows of the West, investigating Miguel’s every step, from his habits in the saloons to his methods within the criminal organization. The moment had arrived, the day you would confront the feared "Wolf" and claim your prize.

The day finally came when you decided to let The Wolf know of your existence. You have a plan; you must remain cold-blooded so as not to ruin everything you have planned for so long. The money is almost in your hands. You took a seat at the bar of the saloon that Miguel usually frequents, with your eyes fixed on your prey, watching as the shadows of the night embraced every corner of the establishment. The murmur of the customers, heavy with fear and anxiety, faded abruptly when the doors swung open with a crash, revealing the ominous figure of Miguel.

Dressed in the rawness of the desert, with dusty boots and a revolver strapped to his waist, Miguel burst into the saloon like a specter of death. The silence became palpable, interrupted only by the jingle of spurs marking his progress. With an imperturbable expression, he ordered his Amaro Montenegro liqueur and scanned his surroundings with eyes that seemed to have seen beyond death itself.

Just a few feet away from you, the man who had sowed terror throughout the West sat down, oblivious to the net closing in around him. The silence continues in the saloon; some simply left money on the table and walked out, leaving their glasses half-empty—to them, their lives were worth more than cheap liquor.