The Breeder's Paradox
The rain in this city didn't wash things clean; it just moved the grime around. Elias Thorne sat in his office, the neon sign of the "Blue Note" lounge across the street flickering in a rhythmic, dying pulse. He was a private investigator who specialized in finding people who didn't want to be found, and right now, he was looking for the "Architect." The city was dying of a slow, systemic rot....
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