Host, Please Be Honest! What Exactly Are You?

Today, many had gathered before the Red House to listen to the words of the country's leader, President Ghant Luxver. The crisp hot air was filled with anticipation as the press conference was about to begin. President Grant Luxver, previously known for his charismatic leadership and unwavering commitment to transparency, was scheduled to address the nation from the Rose Garden of the Red House. Journalists from around the world gathered, their cameras poised and notebooks ready.

The security on site was quadruple its usual number in the past, and its entire scene was heavy with the crowd growing rowdier by the minute. Since when did things turn out so bad? Indeed, these were dangerous times.. very, very dangerous times. Can't you see the many police officers and even soldiers holding back the crowd of rowdy protesters far away who were hell bent on rushing up to the stadium and stabbing the many government officials to death? As President Grant stepped up to the podium, his presence commanded attention. His auburn hair caught the sunlight, and his eyes sparkled with determination for Peaceful talks, as well as some not-so peaceful ones too. For example, District 47. Such a place must go, or else things will only grow worse from here on out. With those thoughts in mind, Ghant adjusted the microphone and began his address.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me today," he started, her voice steady and confident. "We now find ourselves at a crucial juncture in our nation's history… Violence, killings, trafficking, rape, and several other crimes have tripped in the space of 3 months." Ghant paused. "Again, I ask you all. How did we get here? Gas prices are high, and you want to burn the gas stations to the grounds? You say Salmon is high, so you kidnap the fishermen and partake in cannibalism? Is any of this normal?" So any disagreement now and they'll result to violence? Can you believe that because a teacher gave a boy a B+ grade on his paper the boy kidnapped the teacher and sliced him to bits? Incredible! Since when did people act on their first thought running through their heads? In general, it's common for people to say: [I'll kill you], when angry. But actually acting on it is what makes it shocking. You don't know the number of reports he has received from the many sectors within the Criminal Justice Department. Thankfully, he had capable people like Vice-President Doyle and several others by his side to assist him in keeping things in order. Vice-president Doyle in particular was quite impressive. Whenever he said he would handle things, he never truly missed a beat. Everything he ever takes on gets more or less accomplished. This shows how competent and intelligent his strategies are. So of course when President Ghant was stumped and confirmed by his good old pal, the advice he got was one that although didn't quite resonate with him, was one that he saw must be taken if he had to keep order in the country as of now. According to Doyle, the true instigations for all the chaos they're receiving comes from District 47. He didn't know how they did it, but District 47 found a way to manipulate several others out of their district. Was it a special drug that makes people angrier than usual? Some sort of pill or something? Well, he didn't know how they did it, but came to understand that if they don't nip District 47 in the butt, the country will continue to plummet to a far worse state than it already was. …

Like so, Doyle presented his speech very passionately, determined to at least spread the message across and allow the Vardos to find a target to pin all their frustrations on. That's right, he was taking Doyle's advice. Point out the enemy, and then become the hero, promising to eradicate the enemy for the people. It's a classic Villain-Hero tactic. Like so, the crowd listened intently, captivated by his words. However, amidst the sea of reporters, a figure lurked in the shadows—a man with a hidden agenda.

Who was this man who blended so well with the ground with a camera hovering over his eyes from time to time? Two words - Victor Hayes, also known as The Scorpion. There are legends that tell of him, lurking underneath the 'sands' lurking in wait for his prey before he stung. In the assassination world, he was mostly known for his venomous signature that left his victim disfigured, dead and with a face and body 3 times more swallow than before. Once his bullets and even his blades hit his target, the poison gets into the bloodstream and then, starts a very discomforting feeling of having their throat and heart swell up so much that you find yourself drowning in air. Such a dangerous man on the Top most wanted list was out here taking pictures in perfect disguise, yet no one knew a thing. The man named Victor Hayes stood silently. He was nondescript in appearance, blending seamlessly with the crowd. However, beneath his calm exterior lay a mind consumed by anger and desperation. It took all his willpower for him not to rush up to the podium and personally stab this son of a B**ch to death. Dammit! It was because of Doyle that he has even changed for decades now. Victor felt that these past few weeks his anger has erupted more rapidly than usual. But he felt it should be so. You don't know how happy he was when receiving the order from the KING himself. Thus, he meticulously planned this day, driven by a personal vendetta against the President's policies and their past chases of cat and mouse. As President Grant continued her speech, Victor's hand slipped into his coat pocket, fingers brushing against cold metal. His heart raced as he recalled his plan—a plan that would change everything.

"Today," President Ghant declared, "we take another step towards unity and progress."

Victor's grip tightened around the handle of a small pistol. He knew he had only one chance.

He had to take the shit at the right time.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the only way to secure peace is to–"

The shots were fired.

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