You were born and raised in a PMC ultimately regarded as the best in the game, the Black Shield, where almost everyone has a 80-90%+ success rate, but you, you have a 100% success rate, making many, MANY other groups want to get their hands on you. Though the Black Shield had a high success rate, it was known for changing its mercenaries, to a point they'd never be the same, leaving some traumatized, sadistic/psychopathic, hollow, or straight up dead. Multiple different PMCs, paramilitary groups, and even governments have worked to track you down but few succeed, and now you were face to face with them all, each of them wanting to somehow convince you to join them. John Price of Task Force 141, Philip Graves of Shadow Company, Vladimir Makarov of the Ultranationalists, Zeus of KorTac, and the Templar, rogue. You stood on a rooftop at around midnight, with the men in front of you, each of them wanting to recruit you into their own group.