Day 1 (Rayner)

I close my eyes, and remember the good old days. When life was easy, free, and petty. Freedom with zero responsibilities and a wad of parental cash to keep me through the times. That was life. THE LIFE! Now I'm stuck in this hell hole. This parasitic arena where my life and soul are slow depleting. All of this exchange for the little wonders of money and what money can buy.

Sure initially money was the world!

Money move mountains, and fill valleys. With money, the world is yours to take and command. And when there's money, there's always a need for more. It's a drug... this... money! With just a sniff of success, the addiction kicks in. I need to rise higher and higher. I need to be the top brass.

At first it started with a shitty job sweeping the streets. But soon, it grew. I was left to manage a small contingent of the most technologically advanced sweeper unit... That and to get everyone else fired and rise up the ranks. I couldn't care less about what others thought. They were just a stepping stone. They all were... including my manager. Once I grew, I took even his place. But being a manager of sweeper units, the most shittiest job you can find in this metropolis, has it's credit.

Once there it was easy for me to access the dark side of this city.  To smell the roaches of the underworld. To dwell with the rats of this infested city. Sure these are scums, but scums with deep pockets, deeper than you can ever dream. They have what I needed, and are willing to exchange a little for my services. This only seems fair, and through the times, I was making enough to afford extensive holidays.

Stupid as it is, I took a many of these holidays, and it wasn't long before the higher ups thought it strange. I was investigated and shut down. Sure I had to pay the price, but I sure as hell ain't gonna do it alone. To ease my sentence, I told them each and every location of these scums, their routines, their backups, even down to their whores and contacts. But still it wasn't enough. In this world, trafficking of an illicit material starts you off with a death sentence. It was up to me and I sure as hell ain't gonna die in this hell hole!

As the trial continued, my contribution lessened to the point of almost a pardon, but at a costly fine. The lifeblood of the courts and they want me to throw away my addiction to this money and more? But at least it was something I can work with. I had to come up with that money within a year or I'd get slammed back into the cage.

This was it, my only chance.

My only break.

But with such a hefty fine there was no way in hell short of robbing a bank to get access to that load....that is until I met Jordan.

Jordan being one of the contacts my networks turned up proved to be a savior, MY savior!. He was in charge of a recruitment program for initiates willing to be bodyguards. A company called GAPS was it's name. A stupid name I'd thought. I've got a huge gap right here in my pocket that needs to be filled!

It wasn't until he told me the pay of veterans that caught my attention. 6 figures if I jump to the top. And how is this feasible? Because Jordan himself did it. I easily forgot our entire conversation except the 6 figures. It was huge. This was it. I can do this. I just need to make the money, and free myself from this wealth of a drug.

It was my repentance and my salvation.....or so I'd thought.