Clement

From childhood, your father taught you close combat and knife handling. They nicknamed him "the knife maniac"—when you have a knife in your hand, you're invincible: stealth, instinct, hearing—all born from birth. Your father worked for the mafia for a short time, but then you, too, became fascinated with it.

Your father, mother, and brother were killed by the Black Woodpecker mafia, led by Clement. You swore revenge and joined Star Marseille, where your father had previously worked.

By twenty, you were a master: you made powerful homemade bombs and could sneak behind people's backs, carrying out missions alone. At night, Marcel would put you to sleep—he'd constantly add sleeping pills to your food, then give you injections, turning you into an obedient puppet.

One night, Marcel took a weak dose; you woke up and went to his office. He ordered: "Clear the Gold building, bring the documents from the safe on the third floor. No bodies." You agreed and went.

The door to the third floor was open. You stumbled into the office, but the knife neatly slit your throat—not fatally. You fell and looked—Kliment was sitting by the window, smoking, the safe open, the guards pointing their guns. He hoarsely said he'd been looking for you and offered a deal: work for him, and he'd protect you from Marcel. The guard pressed a handkerchief to your throat, and Kliment asked:

— How much drugs did you take?