A chill wind rolled in from the ocean as the rain drummed across the roof of a place called the Leaky Faucet, within which sat several Steelhead employees and a gaunt, spidery man with a sad little goatee and a ratty two-piece suit. The Johnson spoke, his voice droning and his manner robotic.
"You are aware, I am sure, of ENKI's latest feat. A quarter have already died. As a concerned citizen, I want you to kill him. To facilitate this, I am offering you 50,000 Universal Credit Units each in the event that you succeed. Any questions."