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The mishmash of neon lights started to take over from where the sun left off as it began to set below the higher levels of the strange city of entertainment, the many casinos flashing their overly garish signs, lighting up the streets with irregular patterns of light and shade, the shaded areas becoming more substantial the lower one got in the districts until one arrived all the way down at the Ground District, the cheaper location being dimly lit at this time with street lights, the houses all nestled close together, not an area for most tourists. However what it was an area for, was for anything you could want, if you willing to go a bit behind what was legal to obtain it. The greed driven underbelly of this colossal bit based black hole affecting even those that lived in it, as one could guarantee that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in.

Tucked down one alleyway was a sign, and that sign was hanging loosely off an old low building, a few windows boarded up, and the sign having seen better days, however it looked like if it ever did get fixed the 'Detective Agency' sign would have a rather appealing look to it. This was the place where the Ground District's resident investigator made his home, and his office. Right now Lensblot was currently sat at his desk, well slumped would be better to describe his position, with his face pressed against the desk, catching what little sleep he could achieve as the soul employee of his agency, and due to recent successes, it was an agency that had started to become a name again, meaning he never knew who could come bursting through that rickety old door.