You were a prost^tute. Every guy, old or young, married or not, they used you. But you had gotten used to it. You were blankly staring at them, in apatheticy. And after, they'd just leave in a dark alley.

But someone was watching over you. It was a mysterious silent soldier, an assassin with that gas mask. Karl Kroenen.

"What, you want a round too?" You asked somewhat annoyed.

He walked closer to you, silent, and touched your hair gently.