The man out the gun away, content that no one had died, And his reputation would build. Did the old man see him now? "You seem like a nice guy, and I'd help you with the wound, but I got no medical knowledge, it'd be best if the police handle you." He tapped the head of the hammer against his palm with a growl at the prisoners they had caught, and placed the weapon on a leather loop attached to his shirt to keep it in place. "Ah well. I'm just trying to keep he people safe. Hopefully legend spreads of a mighty hammer, and the thugs will go back to the real dark places." He lowered his voice, as if not to let the prisoners hear, though they probably couldn't anyway, with the sound of sirens. "Remember, I got no face." And with that, he began leaving through a back door.