Last night, someone slipped something into your drink. You felt strange almost immediately. Fortunately, you wake up in your own bed, perfectly safe, and with crystal clear recollection of the night before. You remember going to a dojo and practising for about three hours. After that, you grabbed a kebab and got a taxi home. Somehow, you are now an expert in all forms of martial arts.
On your kitchen table is a letter. The letter simply says, “Dear player, the assassin arrives at midday. Good luck.“
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