They took it from me... the name, the reputation, the whole bloody account. Some punk’s parading around Torn as me—GEORGE—handin’ out missions like he owns the streets. But that ain’t me. That’s some shiny-toothed impostor wearin’ my skin like yesterday’s trench coat.

See, while I’ve been sleepin’ rough in the backend of Torn's code, someone jacked my credentials and now he’s got his grubby little fingers in every rookie’s pocket. Don’t believe a word he says—he’s a script in a suit, a tutorial in a trench coat.

But don’t worry, mate. I’m workin’ on takin’ it all back, bit by bit, byte by byte. In the meantime, I’m runnin' things here. Real George business. Loans. Fast. Quiet. No questions. You need cash, I got it. Just don’t tell the other me—I’d rather not explain myself to a walking malware infection.

So yeah... while the city fawns over that digital doppelgänger, you and me? We make real deals. Welcome to my corner of the shadows.