Redouane Bouziane was raised and born on the streets of Casablanca, Morocco. His boyhood was forged out between the rhythm of the medina and the shadowy specter of the street hustle. The world never gave him much, so he made do with what he had with the cards he held... quick mouth, silver tongue, and hard heart when it suited him. Redouane had moved at 16, his family along with him, to the Netherlands in search of a brighter life. But European streets, though, weren't actually all that different from what he was accustomed to... cleaner, quieter only.
Soon enough, he ended up in the underground scene, taking part-time jobs for the local gangs before
his name started ringing in the ears of the authorities. Before long, Redouane was completely enveloped in the life of the Mocro Maffia.
With time, Redouane climbed ranks... fast. His record was impeccable: reliable, discreet, ruthless when the occasion demanded. When a high-risk braquage (heist) opportunity arose, he was chosen. The job was brazen, dangerous, and risky... just the sort of thing he enjoyed. And it paid off big. The gang got away with more than they could count. But while most were basking in the glory, Redouane was making plans to leave. He knew the heat would come.
It always did. With a phony passport, and burner phone. Redouane vanished from the Dutch radar... straight into the smoky horizon of Los Santos. In Los Santos, it wasn't long before he met a face he knew. Achraf Lamari, a face familiar to the Moroccan underworld, now a high-ranking member of a rising DTO known as Conexion Casablanca. Their encounter was uneventful... but behind it, years of trust and dirt built on silence and survival. Redouane wasn't in need of being persuaded. Blood money and a new city to inherit, he entered into a completely new game.
