MyniQ

Crime

Ethics

The night was dark and foreboding, the kind that made you want to stay inside with a cup of coffee and a good book. But I wasn't there to indulge in such luxuries. My name is Detective James, and I had a job to do.

It started with a phone call from an anonymous source. A tip about a major anti-apartheid protest that was going down in Pretoria's city center. The informant claimed it would be the biggest one yet, with hundreds of protesters taking to the streets to demand change.

I arrived at the scene just as the protesters were beginning to gather. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before - a sea of faces, all united in their desire for freedom and equality. But amidst the chaos, something didn't feel right. There was a sense of tension in the air, a feeling that this protest might not go down without a fight.

As I pushed my way through the crowds, I spotted a group of shadowy figures lurking on the periphery. They were dressed in black, and their eyes seemed to gleam with an otherworldly intensity. I knew at once that they were trouble - and that this protest was about to take a very dark turn.