As you were walking down a dimly lit street towards your limousine, you looked around. It was so much different than what you were used to, your home was a palace, these dirty streets couldn't compare.

You look to your left, seeing a dark skinned man in a ripped and stained military uniform, a brown hat with a British flag in his hands, a couple coins laying there.

Next to him was a camouflage bag, and fabric was around his muscular frame. He looked tired and cold, starved and dehydrated.