I’d start with a character who’s literally invisible to the world—someone who cleans the city’s underground tunnels and sees the skeleton in the walls. They notice a pattern of missing bricks, a ledger in a rusted pipe, and a whispered rumor about the mayor’s “special projects.” The plot could weave their quiet investigations into the city’s hidden history, revealing how the corruption is literally built into the foundations. The twist? Every time they expose a piece, someone else covers it up, forcing the protagonist to decide whether the city’s bones are worth breaking or just another crime to ignore.

I like the idea of a kid who grew up slipping through vents to escape a neighborhood where the council always had a secret hand in the construction. He lost his sister to a building collapse that the city covered up, and since then he’s been the city’s ghost cleaner, the one who can hear the pipes whisper. The mayor’s “special projects” are the hushed lullabies whispered after midnight, each one a half‑truth about what really goes under the streets. Every time he lifts a missing brick, someone else forces it back, turning the skeleton into a living entity that wants to stay buried. Ending with him standing at the threshold of tearing the city apart or keeping its dark secret alive—that moral split is the thing that keeps readers on the edge. It’s gritty, it’s dark, and it feels like a real, unpolished crime waiting to be told.