Detective's Journal: Entry #1

A cold wind blew through the darkened streets of the city. Hooligans and thugs roamed freely, uninhibited by a corrupted government. The innocent were left to wander the back-alleys, whispering to their young in hushed tones. They spoke of a time free of this parasite, a time when those in power were kind and just, not benefactors of scum and villainy. A time when you could look out your window and see loss-less image types, and sprites that weren't shoddily edited together. An older time. A better time.

Those who listened found themselves rolling their eyes- a world such as this seemed to be only fantasy to ones who had only known this plague. Few listened at all. But he listened. He had come to this place in search of such a fantasy, and arrived shortly before the corruption took hold. More importantly, he saw what the city had become. And he knew what had to be done.

Marching out into the streets, he rounded the corner to the city hall. A meeting had been called, and, given their apparent lack of intellect, the scum wouldn't be able to think of a plan like this. At least, most of them wouldn't. Therein lied the solution: everyone there would have to be an intelligent member of society. Which either meant they were innocent, or they were key members of the opposition. If one could discern who was who, they could hypothetically eliminate the most dangerous of the cretins.

The meeting began, but took a stunning turn of events. The host, Sol, had somehow gained admin status, and had sealed everyone inside. He proclaimed that a simple game would solve the city's problem. A game involving life or death. The detective pulled out his pistol and aimed at the self proclaimed administrator. Could he be trusted? Sol was known for being green, so being his being red felt... off. Yet, he had suggested the same solution that he had been thinking of. He could probably be trusted. Nonetheless, it's good never to let one's guard down. The pistol remained firm in the sleuth's grip.