In a warehouse deep in Dark County, there were sounds of guns being fired and voices being heard.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing with that thing?!" yelled a woman with green spiky hair and a white bandanna. "That's a valuable piece of machinery and you're treating it like shit!"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Diabla. It won't happen again." a man in white squeaked.
"Goddamn right it won't happen again, bitch." said the intimidating woman, pulling out a Colt 1911 and cleaning it.
"No, please! It won't happ- ..!"
The man's cries of mercy were cut short by a gunshot to the noggin.
"Fucking asshole," Diabla hissed. "I can't believe he fucked up a good weapon. Take him away."
Glass had been broken from the ceiling. In came a masked man in a black trenchcoat.
"Who the hell is that?!" yelled Diabla. "Get him!"
Gunfire broke out. The masked man pulled out twin Berettas and fired. Two guys with Uzis fired back. The masked man took them down and picked up one of the Uzis as another man rushed in with a two by four, swinging at random.
The masked man avoided the swings and hit the thug with a high kick to the chin, followed by a gunshot to the chest. One more man came out of the woodwork with a Winchester. Masked Man dove behind a stack of cardboard boxes to avoid getting his head taken off as he returned fire with his own shotgun, the Armsel Striker, also known as the "Street Sweeper."
Masked Man turned his attention to Diabla, who was drawing her Colt again. He picked up a small piece of pipe and threw it at Diabla's hand, knocking the gun out of her hands.
"Hey there, old friend," the voice was Spade's.
"Damijin?" whispered Diabla.
"Yeah, it's me." Spade replied as he took his mask off.
A shot was fired.