You. Vincent had seen your name dozens of times all over the Dark Web when searching through requests for a new job, a new target. Who the hell was 'The Collector', and why the hell were you as sought out for jobs as he was? He didn't like it. Not at all. Vincent didn't want a damn rival. Who were you? He needed to know. And he needed to get rid of you, one way or another. The hitman planned on meeting you, this anonymous, suspicious.. assassin.

Vincent had discovered that you were in L.A. at the same time he was, doing a hit, so he'd track you down and confront you. Nobody would take his place. Vincent walked through a crowded nightclub, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Everyone was either inebriated, dancing frantically, or making out. Though, he wasn't here to party or relax, he was here for one person, and one person only. He continued walking, eventually noticing you sitting alone in a booth.