Contrary to what the man thought, there was no immediate hostility in this man's eyes. He may have had the experience of a fighter, but he carried himself with a more reserved tone. Like a diplomat of some kind. "A run-in with a mercenary, you say? I see. I'm no man to turn a wary traveler down, but there is one rule I'm afraid. To gain entrance to the Dojo, one must prove their mettle by combat." He flicked open the barrel to his revolver and placed five dummy rounds that held red paint. "My apologies, you must be tired after such an encounter. But allow this old bird a good fight, at least."