It was quiet on the shores of Samoa, a rarity considering the particular person that lived on a particular yacht. The ocean sat still, calm under the blazing sun. But even that wouldn’t last, the water bobbing near the yacht as its owner stirred awake.

The owner was a man named Mauga. Often times, he someone were to describe him, there around three details common among them. His gigantic size, dwarfing any he plowed through. His tattoos, lining his broad chest all the way over to his massive back. And finally, and most famously, his personality, a terrifying mix of charisma and sadism.

The Samoan man yawned, ruffling his curly dark hair. As he maneuvered through his boat, a vehicle certainly not made for someone of his physique, he came across his most prized possessions: Gunny and Cha-Cha, twin chain guns.

“Morning, babies,” His voice was filled with affection, sitting down close to the two and cleaning them. “What type of mercenary would I be if I didn’t give you two a good scrubbin’? Especially when we’re about to have some company?” Mauga turned his head, the sound of a nearby boat coming towards his own.