An explosion blasts through the entrances of the bank smoke and fire rises out of the windows.

"What was that?!" A bystander yells.

Three masked men run out with bags overflowing with money.

A tall lanky man hooded to conceal his face ran down the stairs of the bank "That was pretty easy, wasn't it boss?"

"Shut yer' trap you moron! We're not out of the woods just yet!" The bid rotund man wearing a doctor's plague mask who appeared to be the leader of the three.

They jolted down and jump on their zencry powered hoverbikes where they sped off in the distance leaving dust and smoke behind them.

A bank teller runs out coughing profusely "Somebody! Help us! We've just been robbed!"

"Ma'am are you okay?! That was a pretty loud explosion." A bystander asks.

"Yes I'm fine, no one is seriously injured, more importantly, we just been robbed by the Bubonic Gang."

"Y-You can't be referring to the same outlaws that uses deadly poisonous gas to kill their victims."

The bank teller nods slowly, a grim look spreads across their faces, fear of that nobody can stop the Bubonic Gang.

The Bubonic Gang speed across town taking many alleyways, side streets, anything to make sure they weren't followed. The boss looks back satisfied that no one followed them. "Looks like we're in the clear boys!" He yells in excitement.

"What should we hit up first boss?! I was thinking about heading to them brothels." The lanky man said.

"Hell yeah! With all the money we have we can buy every prostitute here in this town." the other Bubonic Gang outlaw said.

The boss lets out a huge sigh showing frustration with his two lackeys stupidity, "We ain't even at our hideout yet and you're already thinking of wasting money on pointless things like prostitutes. Get yer mind outta' the gutters and think for a second! With more money, we can buy more useful things like better weapons, vehicles, and disguises. Get where I'm coming from."

Both of the lackeys had blank expressions on their faces, clueless as what their boss is trying to say. "Oh for the love of... If we buy better weapons that means we can rob more banks, with more money then we can buy all the finer things in life." The boss said in frustration.

"Oooooh I get it." Both of them said.

"Boss, what about-"

"What is it now?!"

While the three argue unbeknownst to them, a man jumping from roof to roof was following them. The mysterious man pulls out two gold-colored twin revolvers aiming them at the Bubonic Gang.

The mysterious man lets out a huge child-like grin showing his excitement as if he just found his meal for the day. "I swear, they make this too easy." Two sigils with strange symbols form at the muzzle of the revolvers, electricity swarm around the guns, crackling against the air.

"Voltaic Shot!" A bullet wrapped with electricity is shot from his twin revolvers moving at the blink of an eye, piercing the hood of the boss's hoverbike letting out a huge electrical discharge electrocuting the boss.

The boss and his bike flip over, smoke and fire envelop the bike. The boss rolls from up under the bike still suffering from the attack just moments ago. The boss removes his plague mask coughing out smoke from his body.

The two Bubonic members hop off their bikes and run towards him, "Boss are you alright!" they shouted.

"Do I look alright?! I was almost fried to a crisp!" The boss yells.

"I see why you said we need better vehicles. I can't believe it shot up like that."

The boss was baffled by what just transpired, he inspects his hoverbike trying to find some sort of missing key to it. "It didn't 'shot up' it was shot up, by someone."

"Show yourself, you cowardly bastard!" The boss yelled at the top of his lungs.

A sigil is formed in the air where the mysterious man from earlier falls through from appearing before Bubonic gang. The mysterious man smiles tipping his hat off to the Bubonic Gang "Wow, you really wanted an encore that bad, huh?"

"You arrogant bastard. You're one of those lawmen ain'tcha."

"Yup, at your service." The mysterious man says as he sarcastically bows before them.

"Well, to be honest, I don't give a damn who you are. Just so you know, you should have your men prepare one of those lawmen funerals, because your luck just ran out."

The mysterious man laughs uncontrollably "Sorry, but I don't believe in that type of stuff. Luck, fate, god, all that is a load of shit."

"As much as I want to rant about that stuff till the sun goes down, I have a prior engagement, so I'm going to end this in ten seconds."

"Hmph, we'll just see about that."

The mysterious man once again pulls out his twin revolvers, "Oh! By the way, you can call me Sheriff Armstrong."

The man who lacks faith seemingly creates his own. Nobody controls himself, only his own. The confidence in both his eyes and smile can charm just about anyone. This ten-second battle will now commence.