[ WP ] The hero beats the villain by stooping even lower .

The Gray Scientist smirked as he poured himself another glass of wine. Decades of research had finally paid off. The children were already spread across the city. Each of them was genetically pure, and in a few more years they would release a toxin, rendering the impure races sterile. 
 
 It had been a hard battle. That Detective girl found him out and had nearly ruined the whole thing. However, she did n't know about the Minister. While she was busy looking through laboratories and state buildings and hospitals, the Minister was quietly handing out children through the church. 
 
 Even if she knew, by this point it would be too late. The children were designed, by neccessity, to camoflage their existence. They would look like any other child until their fifth birthday, after which they would replace humanity. It was almost beautiful how it worked - it was genetic engineering turned into an art form. 
 
 The Gray Scientist knew he was going to die when he entered his mansion. The Detective was relentless and brilliant. She probably thought she could save some small fragment of society as long as he did not live to create more perfect children. She might even be right. It did n't matter though - he had already won. He confidently entered the mansion with a self-righteous grin on his face. *Victory is mine* 
 
 In an instant his heart sunk. He thought he had been prepared for anything. No matter what form of death the Detective chose to give him, he had resolved to take it pridefully. But now he could not even stand. His entire consciousness broke - he fell to the floor, he wept, he retched. His body, mind, and soul all screamed out in pain. 
 
 The Detective had been waiting for him. She stood in the center of the main hall, smiling victoriously. To the Scientist she looked like a demon who had just stolen some poor man's soul. There had been twenty-five children created through his work. They looked the same as any other child. He has thought it impossible to distinguish between his children and a normal child. 
 
 The scene in front of him revealed the Detective's solution. His twenty-five perfect children were in the room, mutilated and torn apart. She had collected each and every one of them and ended their life. How had she identified his children? 
 
 The Scientist cursed himself. It was impossible to tell them apart. The Detective knew this as well as he did. While he believed this made his plan invincible, she simply reached the obvious solution. 
 
 She did n't need to know which children were his. As long as she killed every child in the city she would be certain that his twenty-five were among them. His twenty-five children were in this room, murdered, along with over a hundred others. 
 
 He could also tell that this was n't a move of desperation either. Each of the corpses had the same intricate set of wounds, designed to ensure death without triggering any toxins. He thought she had been searching the city on a wild goose chase, but he could see now that was a deception. She knew from the start that the Scientist was n't the one distributing the children. She already knew what she would have to do. She visited his labs to understand how the toxin would be released. She visited statehouses and hospitals to learn which households had young children. 
 
 With full knowledge of his defeat, the Scientist could only weep as the Detective calmly walked up to him. She leaned down, whispered `` I win,'' and carefully plunged the knife into his chest. Slowly and methodically, his corpse was added to the pile.
