This city was a septic tank of morality, where ambition licked at decay and power reigned with bloodied fists. Justice here was merely a myth chanted by the victors to deceive the losers. Information was a deadly virus, capable of tearing the mask of falsehood and revealing the festering sores gnawing at the city's soul. Michael Bennett, now walking among the corpses of Walter Davis's lies, knew that the truth he sought was locked within a disgusting labyrinth of conspiracy, where loyalty was a rare commodity and betrayal the most valuable currency. In this place, trusting someone was akin to offering your neck to the executioner.
He was attacked in a narrow alley, silently, without warning. The first blow slammed into the back of his head, sending his world into immediate shuddering dark
