AD 1990, Modern day USA, California.
One sunny afternoon, around the time for lunch, In the states capital of California, Sacramento, a man sat in an office chair and twirled around the pen in his hand.
He was a middle aged man dressed in white long sleeves and black trousers. A typical working attire for most workers.
The only thing special about this man was that he had this Mysterious air around him that invoked awe in others.
In front of him sat two young men who were waiting with bated breaths. It was as if a Judge was about to give his verdict.
No! Not just any judge, it felt like the supreme court was about to give a ruling.
As the middle aged man kept twirling the pen in his hands, his eyes remained unfocused, but his mouth were muttering a string of numbers that sounded unintelligible but to the two men in front of him, it was like the Oracle's words.
As the muttering went on, it became less and less frequent and finally began to die out.
After some time the muttering stopped but the two men were now focused on something else, meanwhile the middle aged man stopped twirling the pen in his hands and watched the young men in front of him.
They were not much older than his son at home. His son was 13 years this year, while these young men were 17 and 18 respectively.
These two youths were considered geniuses by their own rights and were sent by their parents to tutor under him.
Thinking of them reminded him of his own son at home.
His son was also talented, but he didn't want him to follow his own footsteps. Right now, he had put his hands into so many political struggles that to withdraw had become something almost impossible to do.
Every time he calculated, his results always showed that the entanglements have looped into a very long and Dense pack of strings that when untangling would inevitably cut some strings and provoke some powers.
This was why he left his son with the decision to be mediocre or famous.
Even after all these, he had to make sure no one knew his son. The one he usually moved about with was a cleverly concealed decoy.
Even those working with him think the decoy is his son but he knew otherwise.
He named his son 'Blade' because he believed that by naming him so, anyone who layed hands on him would get cut.
As his mind wandered around, the two youths in front of him finally awoke and were sweating profusely.
"How was it?" The middle aged man focused his eyes on them as he asked.
"Sir!" They replied in unison
"Yes, you Garrett" the man nodded towards the youth by his left hand.
He had already calculated that the first to answer and a bit off the mark would be Garett.
"Sir, according to your analysis and deductions, there is a 65% probability that the victim was also a gang member and a member of the inner circle at that".