On a fair outskirt, beaten by day off, gathering of murderous abundance trackers, driven by the craftiness Loco, go after a posse of abused bandits who have taken it on the slopes. Since the cost for each head is gathered individually, just an idiotic shooter, called Silence, is among the honest displaced people and the avarice and debasement that abundance trackers speak to. Be that as it may, in this cruel and fierce world, the lines among great and evil are not in every case clear and great doesn’t generally win.