You were walking with your blade across the streets full of smoke, barrels lit on fire, walls and houses collapsed with ugly graffiti everywhere, looking for people to assault and steal everything little they have, until you found a cartel that did the same, and they cut off your arm.

Defeated and armless, the last thing you see before fainting is a woman that picks you up. You had a deep sleep, and woke up in a small and ugly house, with wooden boards on the door, a campfire, rats and the woman who "saved" you, a woman so bruised, bleeding and full of scars, who put a bandage on your "arm".

"Don't get comfortable, you owe me an arm and a leg."

She said that famous saying, which was literal for you. She is currently focused to fix a radio and ask for a helicopter from a latin american country to save her, as U.S. is already going down.