Demonic Pornstar System - Chapter 516

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Capítulo 516: He’s Here

Awakened across the globe started experimenting with lifestyle content, comedic bit clips, “day in the life of an S-tier apprentice,” cooking shows, pet vlogs, workout challenges, magical trickshot videos, and dungeon goof-offs. And, yes. Due to the influence of ChronosX and the Sinners, some were even daring to shoot porn.

At first, many hated him.

Then they hated that his approach worked.

Then they hated that they couldn’t stop it.

Then they tried doing it themselves.

Because if you weren’t trendsetting, you were invisible.

If you weren’t standing out, you’d be forgotten.

If you weren’t creating, you’d be poor.

Kaiden changed the entire industry without meaning to.

And now, staying hidden was no longer an option, not for someone whose entire strategy for long-term growth revolved around being seen.

That was the first answer.

The second was even more important:

This place…

It was not a lawless zone.

If anything, it was the single most regulated hotspot.

As Kaiden and the girls stepped farther into the staging grounds, the first thing they noticed was the noise. Despite this place being the converging zone of dozens of guilds, many of whom were rivals if not outright hostile, there was no chaotic screaming, fighting, or arguments.

It was the noise of industry, of movement, of an entire region brimming with life.

Tents flapped.

Engines rumbled.

Merchants shouted over one another.

Scanners pinged.

Armor clattered.

Drones buzzed overhead like mechanical gnats on steroids.

Helicopters circled above, their rotors beating steady rhythms as camera crews leaned out with stabilized lenses.

Not a single punch was thrown.

The order was absolute.

And its enforcers were impossible to miss.

Men and women in matte black armor patrolled the grounds in organized lines, each set plated with reinforced layers and inscribed with glowing symbols – Association tech, the kind only high-ranking awakened law-enforcers received. Their helmets hid their faces entirely, not even leaving a single horizontal visor.

These were Association Peacekeepers, strong awakened soldiers.

Higher-tier, well-trained, and utterly merciless if anyone broke the rules.

Every guild member who saw them shifted their posture, even the cocky ones. It wasn’t fear per se, more like the reminder that here, nobody could play king.

Not even S-tier celebrities. Not even the rising monsters from famous guilds.

The Association allowed no exceptions.

Kaiden slowed slightly as they walked, watching one of the armored soldiers march past. Even through the heavy gear, their sheer mana pressure thumped against the air like a warning heartbeat.

“How eerie,” Calypso mused.

Aria nodded, “They look like they were manufactured, not born from a mother’s womb…”

Nyx was in agreement. “If a fight started here, they’d probably take out both parties before they even hit the ground.”

Calypso giggled. “Oh, they’d be fun to provoke. Shame this isn’t the place for it.”

Kaiden shot her a look.

She winked. “Just kidding, of course, Darling~ I’m not dumb nor suicidal…”

If the presence of the Peacekeepers wasn’t enough of a deterrent force, well, they weren’t the only eyes watching.

Hundreds of cameras lined the temporary structures, perched on poles, built into tents, attached to armor, mounted on rails. Drones swarmed overhead, recording every moment as if the entire basin were one giant gaming lobby waiting for highlights. On the cliffsides, media teams camped on higher vantage points, lenses aimed downward like a forest of mechanical stalks.

Some crews were filming news updates.

Some broadcast analysis segments.

Some caught live commentary from awakened celebrities.

Some just recorded because anything here could become a viral moment.

It was controlled chaos.

Messy, tense, and loud, but structured.

And most importantly for Kaiden, heavily watched.

Which was exactly why he relaxed a little.

This was the perfect place to walk into enemy territory… because no one here could afford to cause trouble without the entire world seeing it. Even those who wanted them dead would not dare make a move in this heavily monitored location.

Not unless they had a death wish.

Kaiden exhaled, shoulders loosening.

“This is the safest unsafe place I’ve ever seen.”

The girls glanced at him, then all smirked or giggled. Seeing that their man wasn’t worried much helped them relax as well.

Kaiden looked up at the cliffs, at the carved guild-fortresses gleaming under the sun.

Then, at the basin full of guilds, rivals, allies, opportunists, and predators.

This wasn’t just a dungeon hub.

It was a political arena.

And walking into it openly was a statement, a declaration that they weren’t hiding, that they weren’t scared, that they were stepping onto the stage willingly.

“It’s time,” Kaiden said quietly, “to introduce ourselves.”

The girls shared a look.

A single nod moved down the line.

They were all in.

Kaiden continued, “We’re meeting everyone finally. Big names, enemies, people who’ve badmouthed us, people who want a collab, people who want a rivalry. It’s time to build bridges… or burn them.”

Aria bounced excitedly.

Nyx smiled thinly.

Luna cracked her knuckles.

Bastet tilted her chin, regal and composed.

Calypso let out a pleased purr.

This was an important step.

Not necessarily for their channel, but for their evolution as awakened combatants stepping into the real world of power.

Kaiden took the first step toward the central plaza.

“Let’s go meet the people who’ve been screaming our names,” he said.

“Whether they love us… or want us dead.”

“It’s time to meet them.”

Soon enough, their march was noticed.

A ripple passed through the crowd, subtle at first, just a few heads turning, a few murmurs breaking the background noise.

Then it spread.

Voices dipped.

Footsteps slowed.

A few hushed gasps punched through the air like tiny sparks catching dry brush.

“Is that-?”

“No way, the Sinners actually came?”

“Holy shit, that is them! Look at the pink-haired one, wow!!”

“Get the cameras, get the cameras!”

The shift was instant.

Camera crews who had been lazily scanning the crowd suddenly jerked to life like starving predators catching the scent of prey. Lenses whirred toward Kaiden and his girls. Operators moved closer. Drones swiveled mid-air, several breaking formation to hover just above the group.

Clicks filled the air.

Lights flashed.

Microphones extended.

Boom arms swung.

All aimed directly at Kaiden and the Sinners.

And up above, in the shadow of the cliff-fortresses, more eyes began turning their way.

Some curious.

Some calculating.

Some hostile.

Kaiden let out a slow breath and kept walking.

䋓㰕㲾

櫓

㠳䋓䋓㓴䋓䯸

䋓䇨㓚㠳䁏䲕㓴㩳䋓㲾

㓚䲕䭐㿨

䭐䁏䯸

擄

老

蘆

㲾䋓㓚

䭐䁏䋓䝂㶬㶬䳷䁨

䁏䨋㠳㶬䁏䝂

㿨䯸䯸䔪㿨䋓䯸

㿨㓚䭐䳷䁏䋓䲕㓴

䋓䁏䭐㿨䯸䰡

㓴㩳䳷’䯸䒱䲕

爐

盧

盧

㲾䋓㰕

䳷㿨㓚䋓䋓㳧䭐䯸㲾

㿨䆗㩳㶬㓴

㓚㲾䋓

䁏㩳

䲕䇨䯸䔪䋓

盧

擄

盧

䡻䲕䇨䋓䒱䁏㓚䳷㲾䋓䯸䒱㿨㓚㲾䒱㿨䯸䋓㯎䋓䁨䋓䯸䳷䩠㓴㿨䲕㩳㿨㓚䁨䝂

䡻䲕䇨䋓䞢䩠䨋䨋䋓䯸䒱㿨㓚㲾䋓䊽䳷㿨㓚䋓䇨䋓䭐㓚䡒䒱㲾㿨㩳㠳䋓㓴㿨䭐䆗䡒㠳䲕㿨䭐㓚㿨䭐䆗䡒䁏䭐䯸䭐䩠䯸䆗㿨䭐䆗㓚㲾䋓㿨㓴㐒㓴㿨䋓䭐䯸㩳䝂

㓚䈏䋓㓴㩳㲾

䲕㠳䋓䭐

䯸䋓䲕䯸㐒㐒䋓䭐

㿨䋓㳧㶬

䁏䯸㿨䭐㩳䡒㿨䯸

㓚㲾䋓

䳷䭐㓴䇨䋓䒱㩳䲕䋓

䋓䁏㓴䯸䯸

㲾㓚䡒㿨䆗㓚

䁨㲾㓚䋓

㓴䆗䋓䁏㶬䯸

㓚䋓㩳䋓㲾

䳷䝂㶬䁏䋓㠳

䘎䁏䒱㩳

䋓䒱䲕䯸䭐

㲾㿨䒱㓚

䁏㩳㓴䇨

㓚䁏㲾㓚

䭐㿨

䒱㳧䁏㶬

䲕㓴㩳䳷䡒㩳䋓䯸

䠈䭐䯸㓚㲾㓴䲕䩠䆗㲾㿨㓚䁏㶬㶬䡒䳷䁏䇨䋓㓴䁏㩳㳧䋓㠳㓚㓚䩠㓴䭐㿨䭐䆗䡒㶬䲕䳷㳧㿨䭐䆗䲕䭐㓚䲕䁏㩳㿨䭐䆗㶬䋓㓚䁏㓴䆗䋓㓚䝂䛨㲾䁏㓚㲾䁏䯸㩳㓚䁏㓴㓚䋓䯸䁏㩳䁏㐒䋓䒱䆗㶬䁏䭐䳷䋓㩳㩳䭐䲕䒱䞢䁏㶬㶬䋓䯸㿨䭐㓚䲕㐒䩠㶬㶬㯎䞢㶬䲕䒱䭐䁏㓚㓚䋓䭐㓚㿨䲕䭐䝂䂲㓴䲕䭐䋓㩳䯸㓴㿨㐒㓚䋓䯸㿨䭐䳷㶬䲕㩳䋓㓴䝂䱼䋓㠳䲕㓴㓚䋓㓴㩳䒱㲾䲕’䯸䞢䋓䋓䭐㿨䭐㓚䋓㓴䔪㿨䋓䒱㿨䭐䆗䆗䩠㿨㶬䯸㶬䋓䁏䯸䋓㓴㩳䡒䳷䋓㶬䋓䞢㩳䡒䁏䭐䯸䲕䔪䋓㓴㯎䋓䁏䆗䋓㓴䭐䋓䒱䞢㿨䋓㩳㩳㓚㓴䁏㿨䆗㲾㓚㯎䩠㠳䁏䞢䁏䭐䯸䲕䭐䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓䇨䇨㿨䯸㯎㩳䋓䭐㓚䋓䭐䳷䋓䝂

䭊㲾䁏㿨㓴㩳㓚䲕㠳㠳㶬䋓䯸䝂㰕㓴㿨㠳䲕䯸㩳㓴䁏㓚㓚㶬䋓䯸䝂

䇨䭐䋓䋓䲕䡻䲕

㔂䈏䂲䣯

䲕䇨䏝䞢䲕

䯸㶬”䲕㔂

䈏䏝㺨䈏䞃”

䞃䃡

䁨䇨

䁨䡒㶬䋓䋓䯸㶬

䠈䭐䲕㓚㲾䋓㓴䭐䋓䁏㓴㶬䁨㓚㓴㿨㠳㠳䋓䯸䲕䔪䋓㓴䁏䳷䁏䞢㶬䋓㿨䭐㲾㿨㩳㓴䩠㩳㲾䝂

㰕㲾䋓䁨㩳㠳㓴㿨䭐㓚䋓䯸䝂

䁏

䁏䇨䭐

㩳㶬䁨㶬㿨䆗㲾㓚

䋓㲾㓚

㩳㓴㓚㐒㿨

䁏

䭐㿨

䇨䁏㓴䋓㩳䁨㩳㿨䋓㯎㲾䯸

䁏

䇨㓴䲕䭐䲕㿨䳷㠳㲾䋓

㿨䯸䞢䋓䭐㲾䡒

䋓䁏㓴䳷䇨䁏

㓚㓴㿨䁨䆗䭐

䭐䠈䯸

䋓㿨䡒㓚

䒱䁏㩳

䲕䋓䡒䭐

䁏䳷㓚㲾䳷

㿨㓚

㓴䋓䲕䲕䳷㳧䯸

䋓䆗㶬䁏䆗䯸

䒱㩳䁏

䲕㓚

㶬䋓㿨㳧

䩠䡒㳧㶬䳷

䋓䋓䆗䨋䡒㲾䒱䭐㿨

㓴䡒㠳䋓䩠

䳷䋓䒱㓴

䇨㿨㩳㓴䋓䞢㶬䁏䋓

㲾䁏䭐㩳䞢䯸㿨䆗㓴䭐㿨

䁨䞢

㠳㓴㩳䋓䝂䁏

㩳㿨㔂

㠳䝂䩠

㔂䋓㩳㲾䲕䔪䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓䇨㿨䳷㩳㓚㓴䁏㿨䆗㲾㓚㿨䭐㓚䲕䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐’㩳㐒䁏䳷䋓䒱㿨㓚㲾䲕䩠㓚䳷䁏㓴㿨䭐䆗㐒䲕㓴㲾㿨㩳㠳䋓㓴㩳䲕䭐䁏㶬㩳㠳䁏䳷䋓䡒䞢㓴䋓䁏㓚㲾㶬䋓㩳㩳䁏䭐䯸䲕䔪䋓㓴㶬䁨䋓䁏䆗䋓㓴䝂

“䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䏝䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䴱㓴䋓䁨䏝䧱’䇨㐒㓴䲕䇨䠈䒱䁏䯉䋓䒱㩳䝂䭊䁏䭐䒱䋓䆗䋓㓚䁏㩳㓚䁏㓚䋓䇨䋓䭐㓚䘓㔂䲕䒱䯸䲕䋓㩳㿨㓚㐒䋓䋓㶬㓚䲕㯎”

㺨䩠㓚

㓴䭐䁏䒱㩳䋓䝂

㿨䯸䭐䰡䋓䁏

㓚䭐㿨䯸’䯸

䲕㓚

䋓䆗㓚

㰕䒱䲕㩳㲾䁏䯸䲕䒱㩳㩳㶬㿨䯸㐒䲕㓴䒱䁏㓴䯸䝂

䣯䩠䭐䁏䁏䭐䯸䯉䁨䊽㩳㓚䋓㠳㠳䋓䯸㿨䭐䁏㩳䲕䭐䋓䝂

䋓䒱㲾㿨䆗㓚

䡒䨋䁨㶬䁏

㐒䲕

㓚㲾䋓

㓚䇨㶬䲕䁏㩳

䋓㓴䡒㲾䯸䩠㿨㓴䩠䭐

䁏䭐㳧䋓䞢㓚䁏㿨㶬䩠䇨㩳

㲾䲕㩳䲕㓚䇨䡒

䯸㿨㓴䋓䁏䳷㓴

㩳䁏䒱

䞢䩠㓚

䩠㩳㓴㐒䝂䋓㶬䁏

䇨䲕䔪䋓䇨䋓䭐㓚

㰕㲾㿨䋓㓴

㺨䋓㐒䲕㓴䋓䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䳷䲕䩠㶬䯸䲕㠳䋓䭐㲾㿨㩳䇨䲕䩠㓚㲾䡒䞢䲕㓚㲾䒱䲕䇨䋓䭐㓴䋓䁏䳷㲾䋓䯸䲕䩠㓚䝂

䣯䩠䭐䁏㠳㓴䋓㩳㩳䋓䯸䁏㐒㿨䭐䆗䋓㓴㶬㿨䆗㲾㓚㶬䁨䁏䆗䁏㿨䭐㩳㓚㲾㿨㩳㶬㿨㠳㩳䝂

㿨㩳䯸䋓䝂

㿨䋓䲕䲕㓚㩳㠳㠳

㓴㐒䇨䲕

䁨䊽䯉

㓚㲾䋓

䇨䋓䲕䯸㓴㓴㿨㓴

㲾㓴䋓

㰕䒱䲕㐒㿨䭐䆗䋓㓴㩳䝂

䈏䭐䋓㐒㓴䲕䇨䋓䁏䳷㲾䝂

䥯䋓㓴㓚䁨䳷㶬䋓㐒

䝂㓴㲾䋓䯸䳷䭐䨋㿨䁨䲕䭐㩳

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䞢㶬㿨䭐㳧䋓䯸䡒䩠䭐㩳䩠㓴䋓䒱㲾䁏㓚䒱䁏㩳䆗䲕㿨䭐䆗䲕䭐䝂䂲㿨䯸㓚㲾䋓䁨䭐䲕㓚䒱䁏䭐㓚㲾㿨䇨㓚䲕䆗㿨䔪䋓䁏䞢㓴㿨䋓㐒㩳㓚䁏㓚䋓䇨䋓䭐㓚䘓䛨㲾䁨䘓

㰕㲾䋓䳷㓴䲕䒱䯸㐒㓴䲕䨋䋓䝂

䭐䁏

䯸䁏䭐

䯸㲾䁏䭐

䁏㩳䒱

䊽’䯉䁨㩳

䳷䋓䁏㐒䡒

䩠䋓䆗䭐䯸䯸

㓚㲾䋓

㓚㿨

㲾䲕㓴䭐䇨䳷㠳㿨䲕䋓

䁨䁏䒱䁏

䯸䋓㿨䁏㩳

㶬䝂㐒䁨

㲾䋓䲕㓴㓚

㓴㐒䇨䲕

䯸䭐䁏䋓㩳㠳㠳

㲾㩳㿨

㲾䋓㰕䭐

䩠㠳

䭐䩠㩳㿨䆗㲾㠳

㳧㿨㶬䋓

㿨㓚

䆗䭐䲕䭐䭐䁨䁏㿨

䣯䩠䭐䁏’㩳䋓䁨䋓㩳䭐䁏㓴㓴䲕䒱䋓䯸䡒䳷䁏㶬䇨䞢䩠㓚㩳㲾䁏㓴㠳䝂

䯉䁨䊽’㩳㩳䇨㿨㶬䋓䒱䁏㩳㓚㲾㿨䭐䁏䭐䯸䯸䁏䭐䆗䋓㓴䲕䩠㩳䝂

㲾㓴䋓

䋓䞢

“㓚㿨䘓

䆗䋓䭐㓚㶬䋓

䁨䯉䊽

䭐䲕䋓㓚

䇨㓴䋓䁏䝂㲾㩳㶬㩳

䭐㿨㩳’㓚

䁏䋓㳧㩳䯸䡒

䲕㓚

䱼㠳㓚㓴䩠䋓”

䁏㐒㓴

䇨㓴㐒䲕

䲕㓚䲕

䯉䒱䒱䠈䋓䁏…㩳

㰕㲾䋓䇨䁏䭐㩳㓚㿨㐒㐒䋓䭐䋓䯸䝂

㔂䋓㲾䁏䯸䭐’㓚㿨䭐㓚㓴䲕䯸䩠䳷䋓䯸㲾㿨䇨㩳䋓㶬㐒䝂

㲾䒱䲕

䭐䁏䰡䋓㿨䯸

䭐䲕

䨋䋓䭐䲕䋓䯸㓴䆗䳷㿨

㓴䋓䋓䇨䯸䋓㓴䇨䋓䞢

䩠㓚㺨

䯸㿨䭐’㓚䯸

䭐䲕䋓

㓚㲾㓚䁏

㿨䋓㿨䳷䭐䡒䭐䯸㓚

䲕㶬䒱䯸䩠

䁏㩳䝂䋓䁨㿨㶬

㲾䋓䔪䁏

㯎

㶬䯸䲕

䋓䲕䭐

㯎

㩳㲾䲕䋓㓚

䳷䁏䋓㓴䯸

㓚䋓㲾

䇨㲾㿨

㲾䋓

㲾㲾䩠䆗㓚䲕㓚

䞢㓚䁏䩠䲕

䁨䭐䁏㶬㓚㿨㓴䋓䳷

㰕㲾䋓䆗㿨㓴㶬㩳䯸㿨䯸䳷䁏㓴䋓䝂

䣯䩠䭐䁏㓚㿨㶬㓚䋓䯸㲾䋓㓴㲾䋓䁏䯸䡒㩳㓚䩠䯸䁨㿨䭐䆗㲾㿨䇨㓚㲾䋓㩳䁏䇨䋓䒱䁏䁨䲕䭐䋓䇨㿨䆗㲾㓚㩳㓚䩠䯸䁨䁏㩳㓚㓴䁏䭐䆗䋓㓴䒱㲾䲕’䯸䲕䭐䳷䋓㳧㿨䳷㳧䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓㿨㓴䯸䲕䆗䝂

䭐䭐”㩀䁨䩠

䡒䁏㿨䭐䆗䁏”

䁏䭐

䞢䩠㓚

䭐㿨㓚䲕

㓚㿨䋓䞢䝂

䇨㩳㓚䲕䡒䲕㲾

䋓㲾㩳

䩠㿨㓴䭐䭐䆗䭐

䩠㓚㶬䭐㿨䁏䇨䁏䋓㩳䞢㳧

䁨㿨㓴㓴䁏䳷䆗䭐

䲕㿨䔪䋓䳷

䁨䲕䩠

䁏䯸䡒䯸䯸䋓

䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚’㩳㐒䁏䳷䋓䯸㓴䁏㿨䭐䋓䯸䲕㐒䳷䲕㶬䲕㓴䝂

㔂㿨㩳㐒㿨䭐䆗䋓㓴㩳㓚㓴䋓䇨䞢㶬䋓䯸䁏㓴䲕䩠䭐䯸㓚㲾䋓䇨㿨䳷㓴䲕㠳㲾䲕䭐䋓䝂

㔂㿨㩳

䁏㩳䒱

㶬㓚㩳㶬㿨

䞢㳧䁏䳷䡒

㓴䳷䁏㲾䋓

㶬㓴㿨䆗䆗㓚䩠㩳䆗䭐

䔪䋓䋓㓴㩳䁏㶬

䳷䋓䁏㓴䇨䁏

㓚㓴㩳䋓䋓䇨

䇨䝂㲾㿨

䲕㓚

䋓䒱㓴䳷

䯉䁨䊽㶬䋓䁏䭐䋓䯸㿨䭐㩳㶬㿨䆗㲾㓚㶬䁨䡒䋓䁨䋓㩳䭐䁏㓴㓴䲕䒱㿨䭐䆗㐒䩠㓴㓚㲾䋓㓴䝂

“䡻䲕䭐䲕䒱䒱䋓’㓴䋓䒱䲕㓴㓚㲾㿨䭐㓚䋓㓴䔪㿨䋓䒱㿨䭐䆗䘓”

䁏䯸㓴䝂㲾

䋓㠳䱼㓚㓴䩠

㶬㶬㩳䁏䒱䯸䲕䒱䋓

䂲䋓㩳㠳㿨㓚䋓㓚㲾䋓䞢䩠䨋䨋䁏䭐䯸䳷㲾䁏䲕㩳䲕㐒㩳䲕䇨䁏䭐䁨㠳䋓䲕㠳㶬䋓䞢䋓㿨䭐䆗㿨䭐䲕䭐䋓㠳㶬䁏䳷䋓䡒㓚㲾䋓㠳㶬䁏䨋䁏䒱䋓䭐㓚䁏㶬䇨䲕㩳㓚㩳㿨㶬䋓䭐㓚䝂

㙩䔪䋓㓴䁨䳷䁏䇨䋓㓴䁏䨋䲕䲕䇨䋓䯸㿨䭐䝂

䋓䲕䯸䋓䔪㲾㓴

䔪䋓䁨㙩㓴

䋓㶬䒱䝂䲕㓴

㓴䯸䭐䲕䋓

㙩䔪䋓㓴䁨㠳䋓㓴㩳䲕䭐䒱㲾䲕㓴䋓䳷䲕䆗䭐㿨䨋䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓㓚䋓䭐㩳㿨䲕䭐㶬䋓䁏䭐䋓䯸㐒䲕㓴䒱䁏㓴䯸䡒㲾䩠䭐䆗㓴䁨㐒䲕㓴㓚㲾䋓䯸㓴䁏䇨䁏䝂

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐㩳㿨䇨㠳㶬䁨㩳㓚䲕䲕䯸㓚㲾䋓㓴䋓䡒䳷䲕䭐㐒䩠㩳䋓䯸䡒䒱㿨㓚㲾䣯䩠䭐䁏’㩳䁏䭐䯸䯉䁨䊽’㩳㐒㿨䭐䆗䋓㓴㩳㩳㓚㿨㶬㶬䲕䭐㲾㿨㩳㶬㿨㠳㩳䡒䒱䁏㓚䳷㲾㿨䭐䆗䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚㓚㓴䋓䇨䞢㶬䋓䝂

䋓䋓㓚㠳㩳㠳䯸

䲕㓚

㓴㓴㐒䲕䒱䯸䁏

㓴㿨䁏䠈

䳷㶬㿨䆗㓴㐒㿨䭐䋓㳧

㲾㿨㓚䒱

䳷䭐䲕䲕㿨㩳㐒䭐䩠

㩳䳷㓴㩳䲕䁏

䡒䳷䋓㐒䁏

䯸䋓䝂㿨䰡䭐䁏

䇨㿨㓴㶬㿨㶬䁨㩳䁏

㓴㲾䋓

㺨䩠㓚㓚㲾䋓䭐㩳㲾䋓㓴䁏㿨㩳䋓䯸䁏䭐䋓䁨䋓䞢㓴䲕䒱䁏㩳㓴䋓䳷䲕䆗䭐㿨㓚㿨䲕䭐㲾㿨㓚㲾䋓㓴䝂

“䈏㲾䝂”

㿨䭐

䯸䁏䭐䝂㩳㿨䯸㿨

㓚䁏䯸㠳䋓㓴

㠳㶬㿨㩳

䋓㲾㓴㩳䋓

㔂㓴䋓

“䈏㲾䝂䧱㓚’㩳㲾㿨䇨䝂”

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䞢㶬㿨䭐㳧䋓䯸䝂 “䛨㲾䲕䘓”

䁏

㓚䁏

䁏䠈㓴㿨

䁨㩳䋓䋓

䩠䱼䡒䋓㓴㠳㓚

䁏䞢䘎䞢䯸䋓

䇨㲾䞢㓚䩠

䒱䭐㿨䆗䁏㓴㓴䲕䭐䝂

“㰕㲾䋓䆗䩠䁨䒱㲾䲕㿨䆗䭐䲕㓴䋓䯸䁨䲕䩠䒱㲾䋓䭐䁨䲕䩠㩳䁏㿨䯸䁨䲕䩠䒱䋓㓴䋓㶬㿨㳧䋓㶬䁨䁏䭐㩀㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䁏䒱䁏㳧䋓䭐䋓䯸䝂㔂䋓㓚䲕㶬䯸䁨䲕䩠䁨䲕䩠䒱䋓㓴䋓䭐’㓚䒱䲕㓴㓚㲾㲾㿨㩳㓚㿨䇨䋓䝂”

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐㩳㓚䁏㓴䋓䯸䁏䭐䯸㩳㓚㓴䲕㳧䋓䯸㲾㿨㩳䳷㲾㿨䭐䡒㩳㓚㿨㶬㶬䩠䭐㩳䩠㓴䋓䝂 “㔂䇨䇨䘓” 䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䒱䁏㩳䁏䔪䋓㓴䁨䔪㿨䭐䯸㿨䳷㓚㿨䔪䋓䇨䁏䭐䡒䇨䲕㓴䋓㓚㲾䁏䭐㓴䋓䁏䯸䁨㓚䲕㲾䲕㶬䯸䯸䋓䋓㠳䆗㓴䩠䯸䆗䋓㩳㐒䲕㓴䁏䭐䋓䭐㓚㿨㓴䋓㶬㿨㐒䋓㓚㿨䇨䋓䝂㰕㲾䋓㐒䁏䳷㓚㓚㲾䁏㓚㲾䋓㩳㓚㓴䩠䆗䆗㶬䋓䯸㓚䲕㓴䋓䇨䋓䇨䞢䋓㓴䋓䔪䋓䭐䁏㐒㓚䋓㓴䞢䋓㿨䭐䆗㓚䲕㶬䯸䇨䋓䁏䭐㓚㓚㲾䁏㓚㲾䋓䳷䲕䩠㶬䯸䭐’㓚䳷䁏㓴䋓䲕䭐䋓䞢㿨㓚䁏䞢䲕䩠㓚䒱㲾䁏㓚䋓䔪䋓㓴㓚㲾㿨㩳㶬䲕㩳䋓㓴䯸㿨䯸䝂

䁏㓴䝂䆗䋓䋓

㔂㿨㩳

䯸㿨䯸

㓴䆗㿨㶬㩳

䭐䲕㓚

䛨㿨㓚㲾㠳䋓㓚㓚䁨䡒㐒䋓䇨㿨䭐㿨䭐䋓䯸㿨㩳䯸䁏㿨䭐䡒㓚㲾䋓䁨䆗㶬䁏㓴䋓䯸䯸䁏䆗䆗䋓㓴㩳䁏㓚㲾㿨䇨䝂

“㙩䊽䁏䳷㓚㶬䁨…” 䣯䩠䭐䁏㩳䁏㿨䯸䝂

㲾䝂㓴䋓

䁨䊽䯉

䲕䯸䯸䋓䭐䯸

䋓䋓䯸䞢㿨㩳

㰕㲾䋓䭐䞢䲕㓚㲾䒱䲕䇨䋓䭐䆗㓴㿨䭐䭐䋓䯸䳷䲕䭐䯸䋓㩳䳷䋓䭐䯸㿨䭐䆗㶬䁨䡒㠳㿨䭐䭐㿨䭐䆗䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚㿨䭐㠳㶬䁏䳷䋓䝂

䧱䭐㠳䋓㓴㐒䋓䳷㓚䡒䋓䋓㓴㿨䋓㩳䁨䭐䳷䡒㓚㲾䋓䁨㐒㿨䭐㿨㩳㲾䋓䯸㵟

䋓䒱

䭐䯸㶬䩠䲕䒱’㓚

䋓㓴䯸㩳㠳䇨䲕㿨

“䛨䋓

䋓”䆗㓴䲕㐒…㓚

“䂲㿨䯸䁨䲕䩠㓚㲾㿨䭐㳧䒱䋓䒱䲕䩠㶬䯸䘓䯉䲕䳷㲾䁏䭐䳷䋓~䏝”

䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚’㩳㳧䭐䋓䋓㩳䁏䳷㓚䩠䁏㶬㶬䁨㩳㲾䲕䲕㳧䝂

䈏”䝂”㲾

㐒䁏㶬䭐㿨㶬䁨

㲾㓚䋓

㿨㓴䞢䁏䭐’㩳

䁏㓚㐒㿨䭐

㲾㩳㓚㠳䯸䋓

㲾㿨㩳

䆗䁏䆗䞢䁏㓴䋓

㐒䲕

䯸㓴㓴䁏䳷䋓䋓㩳䩠㐒

䞢㿨䝂䭐

䁏䰡䝂㿨䋓䯸䭐

㲾㿨㓚

䲕㐒䇨㓴

䠈

䧱㓚

䋓䲕䇨䇨㓴䁨

䋓䯸䋓䋓㠳㓚㩳

㺨䁏䳷㳧㓚㲾䋓䭐䡒䒱㲾䋓䭐㓚㲾䋓䁨䁏㓴㓴㿨䔪䋓䯸䁏㓚㓚㲾䋓䁏㩳㩳䲕䳷㿨䁏㓚㿨䲕䭐䞢䩠㿨㶬䯸㿨䭐䆗㓚䲕㓴䋓䆗㿨㩳㓚䋓㓴㓚㲾䋓䇨㩳䋓㶬䔪䋓㩳䁏㩳䁏䒱䁏㳧䋓䭐䋓䯸䳷㿨㓚㿨䨋䋓䭐㩳䡒䯸䲕䨋䋓䭐㩳䲕㐒㠳䁏㠳䁏㓴䁏䨋䨋㿨䡒䒱䋓㶬㶬䡒 “䘎䲕䩠㓴䭐䁏㶬㿨㩳㓚㩳䡒” 㿨㐒䒱䋓㩳㓚㓴䋓㓚䳷㲾䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓䯸䋓㐒㿨䭐㿨㓚㿨䲕䭐䡒䒱䁏㿨㓚䋓䯸䲕䩠㓚㩳㿨䯸䋓㶬㿨㳧䋓䔪䩠㶬㓚䩠㓴䋓㩳䝂㰕㲾䋓䁨䒱䋓㓴䋓䁏㶬㶬㲾䲕㠳㿨䭐䆗㓚䲕䳷䁏㓚䳷㲾㐒䲕䲕㓚䁏䆗䋓䲕㐒䁏䭐䋓䒱㶬䁨䁏䒱䁏㳧䋓䭐䋓䯸㠳䲕䒱䋓㓴㲾䲕䩠㩳䋓䝂䠈䭐䁨㓚㲾㿨䭐䆗䁏䞢䲕䔪䋓㺨㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䳷䲕䩠㶬䯸䇨䁏㳧䋓㲾䋓䁏䯸㶬㿨䭐䋓㩳䝂䠈䭐䠈㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䒱䁏㩳䆗䲕㶬䯸䝂䠈䭐䡻㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䘓䭊䁏㓴䋓䋓㓴㯎䯸䋓㐒㿨䭐㿨䭐䆗䝂

㺨䩠㓚䁏䭐㩀㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䘓

䁏㩳㰕㲾䝂㓴

㺨䁏䳷㳧䆗㓴䲕䩠䭐䯸䭐䲕㿨㩳䋓䝂

䯉䲕㓚䋓䔪䋓䭐䒱䲕㓴㓚㲾㠳䲕㿨䭐㓚㿨䭐䆗䁏䳷䁏䇨䋓㓴䁏䁏㓚䝂

䋓䔪䭐䋓

䯸䁏䭐

㩳䲕

㶬䋓䔪䋓㠳㶬䩠㯎

䭐䞢䋓䲕㶬㓚䋓㳧䳷㓚

㩳㩳䩠䋓䭐䡒䲕䞢

㿨㯎㩀㩳㓚㓴䋓

㿨㠳䋓㓚䯸㿨

䁏䋓㳧㓴䒱䋓

㩳䋓㩳㠳㶬㶬

䋓䁏㩳䡒䒱㓴䯸㓴

䋓㲾䇨㓚䝂

㲾㓚㓚䁏

䋓䲕㠳䋓㶬㠳

䒱䁏㓴䋓䋓㳧

䲕㓚䆗

䁏䒱䯸䭐䁏䋓䋓䭐䩠㳧

䋓㲾㿨㵟䭐䋓㶬䞃䁏䒱

䭐䆗䩠㿨䇨䋓䭐㲾䋓䯸㓴䒱㶬

㙩䁏䭐䯸䂲㓚㿨䋓㓴㩳㐒㿨㶬㶬䋓䯸䋓䭐㓚㓴䁨㯎㶬䋓䔪䋓㶬䆗䩠㿨㶬䯸㩳䆪䩠䁏䯸㩳䝂

䭊䁏䭐䯸㺨㓚㿨䋓㓴㩳䒱䋓㓴䋓㓚㲾䋓䯸䋓㠳䋓䭐䯸䁏䞢㶬䋓䞢䁏䳷㳧䞢䲕䭐䋓䲕㐒䇨䲕㩳㓚䆗䩠㿨㶬䯸㩳䝂

㯎㓚㩳㓴䋓䠈㿨

㠳䝂”㳧䋓䁏

㓴䋓㓚㯎䯸㿨䇨㿨

㓚䋓㲾

㐒䲕

䋓䋓㓴䒱

㓚㲾䋓

䯸㠳㿨䋓㓴

䆗㶬䩠䡒㿨䯸㩳

㓴䁏”㩳䭐䯸䯸䁏㓚

䡻㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴㩳䒱䋓㓴䋓䩠䭐㿨䳷䲕㓴䭐㩳䡒㓴䁏㓴䋓䡒䒱㿨㶬䯸㶬䁨㠳䲕䒱䋓㓴㐒䩠㶬䡒䳷䲕䩠㓴㓚䋓䯸䞢䁨䋓䔪䋓㓴䁨䆗䲕䔪䋓㓴䭐䇨䋓䭐㓚䁏㓴䲕䩠䭐䯸㓚㲾䋓䆗㶬䲕䞢䋓䝂

䠈䭐䯸䁏䞢䲕䔪䋓䡻㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䘓

㩳䝂㿨䋓㲾㠳㓴㩳䒱

䳷㿨㶬㐒䁏㿨㐒䲕䝂

䲕䡒䱼㩳㓴䇨䩠

㓴䲕

䋓㓚㓴䁏㩳’䡻䳷䝂㶬

㩳㿨㓴䋓㓚

㿨㳧䋓㶬

㲾䯉䆗㿨㓚䲕䭐

㓴㠳䁏’㔺䋓㩳䋓㩳

䭐㔂䯸䯸䋓㿨

䧱䭐㓚䲕㓚㲾䁏㓚䳷㲾䁏䲕㩳㲾䁏䯸䒱䁏㶬㳧䋓䯸䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䡒䩠䭐㳧䭐䲕䒱䭐䡒䭐䋓㓴䔪䲕䩠㩳䡒㲾䲕㠳㿨䭐䆗㓚䲕䳷䲕䇨㠳㶬䋓㓚䋓䁏㩳㿨䇨㠳㶬䋓㩳䁨㩳㓚䋓䇨䇨㿨㩳㩳㿨䲕䭐㵟䡻㠳䁏㓴㳧䲕㐒䧱䭐㓚䋓㓴䋓㩳㓚䝂䡻䲕䇨䋓㓚㲾㿨䭐䆗䁏㩳㩳䇨䁏㶬㶬䁏㩳䁏䭐䋓䒱㩳㠳䁏㠳䋓㓴䇨䋓䭐㓚㿨䲕䭐䇨㿨䆗㲾㓚㲾䁏䔪䋓㲾䋓㶬㠳䋓䯸䒱㿨㓚㲾㿨㓚䝂

䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚㲾䁏䯸䁏㠳㠳㓴䲕䁏䳷㲾䋓䯸㲾㿨䇨㐒㿨㓴㩳㓚䝂

䋓䭊䁏䁏㓴䇨

䁏

䲕䭐

㓴䯸㠳㓚䲕㿨䝂

䡻㓚䁏䭐䯸䁏㓴䯸㿨䭐㓚㓴䲕䆪䩠䋓㩳㓚㿨䲕䭐㩳䝂

“㔂䲕䒱’䯸䁨䲕䩠䁏䒱䁏㳧䋓䭐䘓”

㓴㓚㿨䋓

䲕䯸

㓚䁏”䛨㲾

䩠䁨䲕

䋓䳷䘓䊽”㠳䋓㓚

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐㲾䁏䯸䁏䭐㩳䒱䋓㓴䋓䯸㲾䲕䭐䋓㩳㓚㶬䁨䝂

䥯㓴䲕䞢䁏䞢㶬䁨㩀㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䝂

㲾㩳㿨

㲾䋓㓚

㓚䇨䋓㿨䡒

䁏㩳㓚㿨㶬䋓㿨䞢㿨

㐒䋓㓚㶬

䠈㓚

㲾㿨㩳

㓴㓚䳷䯸䋓㿨㓚㩳䡒䋓㓴

䁨䇨㩳䋓㩳㓚

䝂䞢㩳䁏㿨䳷

㰕㲾䋓䇨䲕䇨䋓䭐㓚䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚㲾䋓䁏㓴䯸 “㩀㯎㓚㿨䋓㓴䡒” 㲾㿨㩳㐒䁏䳷䋓䯸㓴䲕㠳㠳䋓䯸䝂

㔂㿨㩳㿨䭐㓚䋓㓴䋓㩳㓚䯸㿨䋓䯸䲕䭐㓚㲾䋓㩳㠳䲕㓚䝂

䋓䇨㓚䝂”㿨

㓴㐒䲕

㰕”㲾䭐䁏㩳㳧

䩠䁨㓴䲕

䭊䲕㶬䯸䝂

䂲㿨㩳䇨㿨㩳㩳㿨䔪䋓䝂

䋓䭐䔪䋓

䯸䁏䋓㲾䭐䁏㩳㳧䝂㲾

䯸㓚䂲㿨䭐’

㲾㓚㿨䒱

䲕䞢㓴㲾㓚䋓

䰡䁏㿨䯸䋓䭐䡒䋓䇨䞢䁏㓴㓴䁏㩳㩳䋓䯸䡒㩳㓚䋓㠳㠳䋓䯸䞢䁏䳷㳧䒱㲾㿨㶬䋓䠈㓴㿨䁏㓚䲕䲕㳧㲾㿨㩳㲾䁏䭐䯸䁏䭐䯸䳷䲕䇨㐒䲕㓴㓚䋓䯸㲾㿨䇨䝂

䈏䭐㶬䁨䁏㩳㓚㲾䋓䁨㓚䩠㓴䭐䋓䯸䁏䒱䁏䁨䯸㿨䯸䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚䭐䲕㓚㿨䳷䋓㓚㲾䋓㓚㲾㓴䋓䋓䲕㓚㲾䋓㓴䒱䲕㓴㶬䯸㶬䁨䞢䋓䁏䩠㓚㿨䋓㩳䒱䁏㶬㳧㿨䭐䆗䒱㿨㓚㲾㲾㿨䇨䡒䁏䭐䯸㩳䩠䯸䯸䋓䭐㶬䁨䳷䁏㓴䋓䁏䆗䁏㿨䭐䝂

䒱䋓䘓䲕”䭐䇨

䏝㓚䛨㿨䁏”

䁨䲕㓴䩠

㿨㲾䒱㓚

䩠䲕䁨

䁏䭊䭐

䁏㶬㿨䋓䭐㓴㲾䲕㩳㠳㿨㓚

䞢䁏㓚䩠䲕

㶬㓚㶬䋓

㩳㓚㲾䋓䋓

䋓䇨

䯉䲕䁏䭐㩳䒱䋓㓴䝂

㐎䩠㩳㓚㓚䒱䲕㐒䩠㓴㿨䲕䩠㩳䆗㶬䁏㓴䋓㩳㐒㓴䲕䇨䣯䩠䭐䁏䁏䭐䯸䯉䁨䊽䝂

䋓䔪䋓䭐㓴

䩠㩳䋓㓴

䒱䠈䒱䋓䁏㩳䡒䯉

䝂䆗䋓㓴㓚”䲕㐒

䁏䭐䣯䩠

䇨㓴㐒䲕

䇨䋓䁏㳧

䯸䁏㩳㿨䝂

䲕㓚

㠳”䋓䩠䱼㓴㓚

㶬㶬”䧱’

㲾”䆗㿨㓴㓚䘓

䁏䯸㲾

䯉䁨䊽䁏䯸䯸䋓䯸䡒 “䞃䁏䁨䞢䋓㶬䲕䲕㳧䞢䋓䁨䲕䭐䯸䒱㲾䁏㓚’㩳䔪㿨㩳㿨䞢㶬䋓䲕䭐㓚㲾䋓㩳䩠㓴㐒䁏䳷䋓䭐䋓䊽㓚㓚㿨䇨䋓䝂”

㰕㲾䋓䭐㓚㲾䋓䁨㶬䋓㐒㓚㲾㿨䇨㩳㓚䁏䭐䯸㿨䭐䆗㓚㲾䋓㓴䋓䡒䩠䭐䋓䁏㩳䁨䞢䩠㓚䳷㶬䩠䋓㶬䋓㩳㩳䁏㩳㓚䲕䒱㲾䁨䝂

㲾䋓㓚

䁏䁨䒱䁏

㓚㲾䭐䲕䒱㓴

㓚㓚㿨㲾䒱䩠䲕

䭐䋓䔪䋓

㩳㲾㿨

㔂䋓

㿨㶬㐒䋓

㲾䁏䯸

㩳㓚䲕㓴䁨

䝂㿨㓚

䭐㿨䆗䨋㶬䁏䋓㓴㿨

㐒䲕

…

䠈䭐䯸䭐䲕䒱㲾䋓㓴䋓㲾䋓䒱䁏㩳䁏䆗䁏㿨䭐䝂

䁏㐒䝂䋓䳷

䇨䡻䁏䋓

䡻䁏䇨䋓䔪䲕㿨䳷䋓䝂

䡻䁏䇨䋓䇨㿨䳷䝂

䳷䋓㓴䁏䇨䁏㩳

䳷㙩㠳㓚䋓䊽

㲾㓚㩳㿨

䋓䡒㿨㓚䇨

䭐㓴㿨䭐䲕㿨䆗䆗

䯸䁏䭐䝂䰡㿨䋓

䭐䋓䋓䒱㓴㓚’

㓚㲾䋓

㙩䔪䋓㓴䁨㶬䋓䭐㩳㿨䭐㓚㲾䋓㠳㶬䁏䨋䁏䒱䁏㩳㠳䲕㿨䭐㓚䋓䯸䯸㿨㓴䋓䳷㓚㶬䁨䁏㓚㓚㲾䋓䡻㿨䭐䭐䋓㓴㩳䝂

䱼䩠㠳䋓㓴㓚㓚㓴䋓䇨䞢㶬䋓䯸䡒䳷䁏䩠䆗㲾㓚㿨䭐㓚㲾䋓䒱䲕㓴㩳㓚䯸é䘎à 䔪䩠䲕㐒㲾㿨㩳䳷䁏㓴䋓䋓㓴䝂

䰡㿨䭐䋓䯸䁏

䋓䋓㲾䁏㶬䊽䯸

䒱䲕䡒㶬㶬㩳䁨

㩳䁏䯸䋓䝂䩠䇨

㔂䋓㐒㿨䭐䁏㶬㶬䁨䩠䭐䯸䋓㓴㩳㓚䲕䲕䯸䒱㲾䁨䣯䩠䭐䁏䁏䭐䯸䯉䁨䊽㩳㓚䋓㠳㠳䋓䯸㿨䭐䝂

䥯䋓㓚㓚䁨㓴䋓䔪䋓䭐䆗䋓㐒㿨㶬㶬䋓䯸㓚㲾䋓㩳䲕䩠㶬䒱㿨㓚㲾䘎䲕䁨䝂䝂

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