By the time the cowboy had finished taking care of those four thugs, the other two had long disintegrated; all that was left of them was their clothes, left entirely undamaged yet covered in ashes. It was like their bodies were burnt away with no regards to their clothing. Small blue sparks of sapphire colored flames could be seen in the remaining ash; flames that only damaged organic material. Finally, the man clapped his hands together, shaking away the ash that covered his arms, both organic and cybernetic. As he turned to gaze at the cowboy, JT might’ve felt like he recognized the man; after all, they’d met before, the man under the alias of Dean. “Thanks for helping clean up,” The man said with sincerity, then paused. “Wait, you speak English, yeah?” At this point, he could never be sure; he’d run into so many different foreign languages that he’d lost track.