Chance awoke to a typhoon of a noise. "Again? These pricks never give up on gettin' to kick my ass!" He hopped out of his bed, pushing his sheets off of it by mistake. "Damn it!" Yelling quickly, he slipped over a mere sock on the ground, finding himself facedown on his apartment floor. As he shouted more profanities, he worked his way to his bathroom where he rushed to clothe himself. Throwing on a pair of black pants, sneakers, and a plain t-shirt, he hurried to his living room, not even bothering to tie his shoes. He was worried because he knew that the sound was a gunshot or worse. Reaching into a nearby cabinet, Chance threw on a leather belt and some straps, placing several knives on his person. "Stupid bastards have fucked with me one too many times." In a rage, he smashed down his own door with a kick, moving outside to investigate.