New Carona, Maryland. The city was a large one. Not as large as some places in the USA like New York or Los Angeles, but still decently big. With a population of almost two million, it beat out Philadelphia, Phoenix, and San Antonio. D.C. was a stone's throw away, and the shipping industry could only be described as thriving. The architecture was uniquely New Carona, and it even featured two man-made islands just off the coast, both large sporting arenas which hosted a number of various events for the wealthy and well-to-do. But despite outward appearances, New Carona is not a pleasant place to live. At least, not for the average citizen.
A closer look at the beaches and docks reveal mountains of litter and trash. Graffiti tags adorn the streets the same way water adorns a toilet bowl. Not only are people afraid to go out at night, but in the middle of the day too. There is no "safe" neighborhood: every street is the "wrong side of the tracks." Few people make an honest living, and fewer still are able to make a buck without having to pay off someone else. But it wasn't always this way. Once upon a time New Carona was spoken of in the same breath as New York City for how grand it was. Only in the last twenty years has it fallen prey to the half-dozen or so street gangs which rule through blood and steel. One woman has decided that enough is enough.
Roulette Co., New Carona branch is a relatively small office, deceptive in how large the national corporation truly is. Only recently installed in the last few months, one could say this particular branch was still "branching out," and meeting some heavy resistance from the locals. Inside, within a private office, sat a beautiful woman covered in tattoos, with blonde-brunette hair down to her shoulders and a deep blue dress. Though she looked to be in her twenties, she was in fact 45, owed entirely to her fantastic health and training regimen.
"Have all my guests arrived, Eric?" she spoke into a desk-mounted intercom.
"Yes ma'am," replied a man's voice from the other end. "The last one just walked in."
"Fantastic. You may send them all in."
The woman shut off the intercom and gave pause for about eight seconds before the doors to her office opened up. Six figures entered, six individuals from various locations in the world. A cyborg from Switzerland. A feminine man from Brazil. A Brit with a tattoo across her face. A Japanese man carrying a sword. And two more, each clothed completely head to toe, covering up all of their features. They entered, getting their first real life glimpse of the woman who had invited them all here on this day: Eve Roulette.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, one and all. Please, take a seat." She gestured to the two couches and numerous chairs about the room facing opposite her desk.
To be in the same room as Eve Roulette, that was a treat. Not just for her status as a woman of business, for which she had quite a name. Oh no, for something much deeper and more unifying for everyone present. Though retired, Roulette was a champion fighter. A world class fighter. Both in legal tournaments and the underground, she had won numerous titles. It was how she amassed enough wealth to startup her company without having to take out a single loan. To those in the know, she was a legend. Of course, the art of fighting required constant practice to keep your sharp edge, and she was more accustomed to being on the other end of a desk than a fist these days.
"I do hope that my secretary offered you some refreshments while you waited. I apologize for any of you who arrived early. My name is Evelyn Roulette, and I have spent a great deal of money and resources tracking you all down. First let me thank you for accepting my invitation. Others were invited as well, but turned it down for one reason or another, so I want you all to know how very much I appreciate your time. Just for hearing me out, I have already wired $5000 in US currency to your bank accounts." She paused to let that information sink in before continuing, standing up from her desk and opening the curtains of her office, revealing a coastal view of New Carona. The city buildings stood tall, proud, and imposing in the distance. The beach down below was covered in trash and hoodlums, two of which could be seen having a knife fight.
"I'm sure I don't need to lecture you all as to the reputation of this city, but I will say this: Whatever you have heard, the reality is worse. I was born here, forty-five years ago in its golden days. In my absence, it has fallen so low. It hurts me to see. Pains the heart, really." She didn't speak with any overt emotion, yet her back was to the group, making it impossible to truly get a read on the woman. She turned around, smiling, as she continued. "The police are as corrupt as they come. They don't do a thing to stop the crime that's plagued my city. I have returned to reclaim my home, but I cannot do that alone. If the authorities cannot, will not help, then I believe it is time to get back to basics."
Eve cracked her knuckles before suddenly kicking straight up, sending her large oak desk up into the air in two pieces, split cleaning in half by the powerful kick. It seemed she was not so consumed by her company that she could not at least keep up the basics of her training. "That is why I have hired each of you, to dispense street justice. Naja. The Red-Hot Riot. Light. The Myriad Man. The Highwayman. The Street Samurai of Brazil. Do you accept my offer?"
