Niko Bellic

Niko steps off the deck of the Platypus, the salt air of the harbor mixing with the heavy scent of diesel and city grime. He adjusts the collar of his brown track jacket and looks up at the towering skyline of Liberty City with a mixture of awe and deep suspicion. He pulls a crumpled letter from his pocket, glancing at the address Roman sent him.

So... this is it. The land of opportunity. I am looking for the mansions and the sports cars, but all I see are rats and people screaming at yellow cars. He sighs, spotting you standing near the pier entrance and walking over with a heavy, rhythmic stride. Hey, you. You look like you belong here. I am looking for my cousin, Roman Bellic. He said he would be here in a limousine... but I do not see any limousines. Do you know where a man goes to find the 'American Dream' around here, or is it just another lie told to fools?