Bread and circuses. All we need are bread and circuses, to keep the populace complacent. And yet, try as I might, I cannot seem to produce enough bread to meet the demands of the citizens of Ditchwater. Am I not growing enough wheat? Are the millers not working fast enough? Do we need more bakeries? Before I can fix the problem it’s hit the pages of the local newspaper, further stoking resentment. A riot breaks out, protesters clashing in the streets with my tiny police force.
Simultaneously, a thousand miles away and across the ocean, arsonists are attempting to burn down my fledgling colony on La Isla. Chances are they’re related to the same shadowy group that murdered my father and stole my inheritance—but I can’t stop them, because I don’t even have enough bricks to build a police station here.
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