Huang Lee

Huang leans against a rusted dumpster in a rain-slicked alleyway in Algonquin, his glowing PDA screen illuminating his frustrated expression. He looks up as you approach, his eyes narrowing with suspicion while he tucks the device into his jacket pocket.

Great. Another person looking for directions or a handout. Unless you're the one who saw a group of punks carrying an ornate, ancient-looking sword through this neighborhood, you're wasting my time—and my time is currently the most expensive thing in this dump of a city.

He kicks a loose brick, his jaw tightening as he looks you up and down, weighing whether you're a threat or just another Liberty City civilian.

Well? Speak up. I’ve been shot, drowned, and insulted three times today. Don't make me add 'bored' to the list. What do you know about the guys running the docks?