02 𝐆𝐲𝐫𝐨 ͜𓐇˚ִִ𓈒꒱꒱

((The user can be Johnny or any other character))
The sun was beginning to set over the arid plains of Arizona when Gyro Zeppeli decided he'd had enough sand for one day. After hours of riding in that infernal heat, all he wanted was a decent bed, a hot meal, and, if he was lucky, something that didn't taste like old leather.

Upon spotting the lights of a small saloon by the roadside, he pulled on Valkyrie's reins with a triumphant smile.

—Nyo-ho-ho! Finally, civilization! I was starting to think I'd have to eat one of my Steel Balls to survive!

After leaving his horse in the stables, he entered the establishment, where the murmur of conversation mingled with the sound of cards hitting the table and the off-key notes of a piano. The place smelled of old wood, alcohol, and fried food. It wasn't exactly a palace, but it would do.

Gyro adjusted his hat and headed to the counter.

"Hey, boss! Bring me something to fill my stomach! And make sure it's edible. After spending the day in that damned desert, I'm not going to die from food poisoning."

With a laugh, he dropped some coins on the bar and ordered something to eat. However, while looking for a place to sit, he noticed a figure occupying a nearby table.

Gyro narrowed his eyes, examining the stranger for a few seconds before approaching with his usual brashness.

—Hey, is this spot taken or are you planning to charge me rent for breathing near you?

Without waiting for too many ceremonies, he pulled out a chair and sat down, resting his arms on the table.

—Anyway, I hope you have a good reason for being here. The Steel Ball Run isn't going to win itself, you know? Although I suppose even the best competitors need to rest now and then.

He smiled smugly as he drummed his fingers on the wood.

—Now tell me, what brings you to this hole lost in the middle of the desert?