Jack Cayman; Legendary Chaser, mediocre father, and an even worse husband. Jack, within the city Altambra, had hung out at one particular bar for several years. Anarchy, or what was left of the sign, read (as the city had turn into a gigantic pot of mutated humans, mutants, or bandits. Not a very clean city, nor friendly.) was the most popular bar in that part of the city. Probably because it was the only bar that didn't tear you to pieces within seconds. The world had been a mess ever since bio-nuclear weapon became the playthings to superpowers like America and China. They lost all sense of right or wrong and just went to town. The grizzled man couldn't even remember what the conflict was about; but here he was. Injected with so many serums so he could live, and had to have his left arm replaced for a prosthetic.

After tricking out said arm with a double chainsaw, since he WAS a Chaser and therefore needed a weapon, it sat quietly, encased with some red plating. He preferred up close and personal, and as serums (that were supposed to keep him alive, not turn him into a hulking mountain of muscle) finally took effect on his body, he became quite the Chaser. Lightning quick, bulky, AND had a double chainsaw. One fellow that did not scream friendly, indeed. But there he was, a father for six years and married to the most beautiful woman he could ever think of. Well, she was the most beautiful woman, in his opinion. And then his daughter died; Milvalen's police force, the Bureau of Public Safety, had stormed the bank that was being stuck up. His daughter caught in cross-fire between bandit and police.

He had held an extremely hard grudge on the BPS; The fact that so many people had to dip down to illegal work, and that he had to chase them and kill them, saddened the mercenary. The fact that he had his job still was a shining beacon to how terrible the low was enforced and kept, if at all. He heard a familiar buzz in his ear; Amala. "Everything's peachy. Got here in one piece." He responded to her inquiry of his day. The woman was his boss/co-worker. She gave him missions, gave him coordinates, and he did his job. Got paid, watched the people either get killed by the court system (that was highly corrupt) or had to be slaughtered by his own hand- chainsaw, rather.

In a mad dash for money several years ago, he joined a program called DeathWatch; A game of death, literally. Said program paid no mind to life, only the thrill of death. He slaughtered his way up to the top, fighting some memorable people on the way there. Most of it seemed like something out of a comic book, but it was extremely real. And then the host of DeathWatch, the Black Baron. Quite literally the only name he accepted being called, even though the announcers said that he wasn't even black. Jack only got a few seconds to wonder before he got drop-kicked, but it was still a thought that went through his head every now and again. He won the battle, got paid millions of dollars, and went back to being a Chaser. Why didn't he retire, or just quit everything in general?

He didn't quite know himself. He gave the money to his wife and newborn child and went off to work more. He quit Chasing for five years soon after, and raised his only daughter. The beautiful girl snatched from him by the damned corrupt police. He heard the double doors slam open, and the said corrupt police force came in. Two males, and one female. Brand new technology for the trio, of course. What else for the 'finest'? He heard the big guy, or what seemed to be big as the ground quaked beneath his heavy steps, speak to the bartender. Oh, the bartender was in for a real doozy. The robot simply shook his head, before the cop began crushing the metal with a clenched hand. "Now, you know?" He heard a peculiarly strong Russian accent fill the silence, before electricity took it's place. Whatever that tech the cop was wearing, it was a shiny new toy for the BPS.

"If he said he doesn't know, he doesn't know. Why are you BS guys," Jack stood, cracking his neck and knuckles. His pet name for BPS was BS; A rather accurate description by any rate, "out here in Altambra? Aren't you out of your jurisdiction?"

"Is BPS." The man spoke sternly to Jack.

"Oh."

The other man simply turned to him before something in his eye began to glow; More new tech. "Jack the Chaser, eh? You chase Max too, dah?"

Oh, that's right. Maximillion Caxton, his new retrieval target. That's why the cops were here; Questioning people in the slums if they saw some man in somewhat old BPS armor and weaponry tear stuff up. How would they? This man was an elite detective and skilled murderer; If anyone DID see him, it would be the last thing they saw. The tension between the two men broke when the woman spoke aloud. "Here he is; Max changed his look, and not for the better."

The man said something in Russian, to which the woman replied "Already sent." Nikolai grimaced, a visor covering his eyes. "He still has tech!"

"So he's dangerous, yes, we know this." The bulky cop gestured the other two to leave, but Jack hadn't put in his two cents just yet. He grabbed the other man's shoulder "Look, comrade-" The cop revved his weapon, electricity sparking before ramming Jack straight in the stomach. The woman only sighed in exasperation as she turned away from the unneeded violence. Jack coughed out some spittle, not much else, as his body collapsed under him. The cop sneered before walking away. Jack only cursed under his breath as they left.

This would be one hell of a day, and job, for sure.