A strange Somalian male wonders the streets with a balaclava on, the way he walks and looks would be very unusual and unique. With the eyes of a stone cold killer but behind the mask was a very young face, the kid must of been in his early twenties. In search of a new home, new people, new location to discover what his purpose will be in this life he keeps walking till the day he finds a place to call home.

Fresh off a boat Richi begins a new adventure...

Ennio_Morricone looks like any other street passer, as he sat on the grass cleaning his fingers with a small knife. He liked the breeze off the ocean, always felt like opportunity. He did a quick scan of his girls working the street. It was not an area that had much traffic for prostitutes and big spenders, but the salty air always left a few with poor decisions. And those left him with great choices.

He noted when Richi disembarked. One of the deck hands tried to push him hard, but found himself moving away like Richi was rooted in the ground.

"Low center of gravity that one", Ennio spoke aloud to no one. He watched the young man move quickly up the street. Light. Like smoke Richi made his way up and then was gone.

Las Vegas...

The bright lights attracted the young male, it was like a calling. He walked and he walked untill he landed in Summerlin, a rough Neighborhood in the not so good part of LV. Richi instantly got to work in the Area, stealing and robbing in different areas... Machete concealed down the side of his leg he walks up to a house where he notices strange activity going on. Different cars coming in and out of the driveway. People who look like junkies could be seen leaving. Richi approaches the front door and knocks once, with his right hand he removes the machete from his trousers keeping it clinched tight right next to his side. As soon as the door opens Richi slams in to the door, smashing it against the unknown males face breaking his nose. Richi quickly grabs the male on the ground placing the blade around his neck, the male Richi grabbed instantly starts yelling at him. "What the fuck?! You stupid boy you just fucked up!"

Richi grunts "The money where is the money."

Just as Richi grunts, he feels a heavy object hit him on the back of the head knocking him unconscious. Richi wakes up a few hours later hanging from a ceiling with a dark figure standing in front of him clutching a 45. caliber pistol. PaulyB introduces himself as the local leader of Summerlin. "Welcome kid, how about we upgrade your use of knowledge and get you manning one of our houses. You got some balls."

Blood dripping down his forehead Richi grins like a mad man, with nothing on but pants. Richi's body reveals scars carved deep in, with slash marks across his back. The Somalian boy wasn't short or neither tall.

Richi's black beady-eyes glaring at PaulyB as two of his goons cut Richi down he crashes on to the floor beneath him, grunting before standing back up on his two feet.

^{I looked PaulyB in the eyes to see if his intentions were true or not, he didn't break eye contact with me once. He seemed like a stand up guy from what i could tell. Make my money, pay my way, keep my head down and start fresh. No revenge or hatred in my heart as it would only cloud your thoughts from your next best version of yourself. Knowledge is power, knowledge is wealth only with knowledge would you ever rise above again. For now i must earn my keep once again and that i will, after all i could make money with the best of them!}