Sompolnius Avenue

Sit down, kid. Have a drink. Don't touch the Silver Mist, it's bad for the heart, and I like you.​Look at this city. New Sompolno City. The locals call it Great Sompolno, the Big Apple of the East. Look at those basalt skyscrapers wearing early-Slavic wooden roofs and Nipponese eaves like fine silk suits. Pretty, isn't it? The neon signs of the Sompex Stock Exchange light up the Kuyavian bagnios, turning the mud into gold. Dwarves in felt hats, water nymphs in pinstripes, gnomes, and overseas merchants, everyone's chasing the same sweet dream in the 76th year of the Apple Revolution.​Money moves through these veins faster than blood. But under that sparkling, sugary shell? This city is rotting from the inside out. And in Great Sompolno, nobody dies for free.​Here's the lay of the land, strictly off the record:​The Furious Reporter: A young water nymph from the marshes pulls a thread on Batch 44 of Noteć Sugar. She thinks she's chasing a story. She doesn't realize she's holding a fuse connected to every bank, politician, and boardroom in the Republic.​The Bitter Veteran: An old-school dwarf columnist sitting on a mountain of secrets and dirty history. He knows how the city operates, but in a world run by accountants and gangsters, keeping silent is getting harder by the day.​The Cynical Inspector: A dandy detective in an ash-gray coat who knows that in this town, the murder of a journalist doesn't even pause the stock ticker for five minutes.​A few days before the Green Dragon Festival, the market is setting record highs, and the body count is about to follow.​Sompolnius Avenue is a dark, sharp-witted, and multi-layered noir saga, a lethal cocktail of Slavic folklore, Asian traditions, retro American grit, and ruthless financial madness.​Make your choice, kid. In this city, you're either at the negotiating table... or you're on the menu.