Chapter 1137: If You Want Them, Try Me

Capítulo 1137: If You Want Them, Try Me

“You’ve got your eye on my crystal cores?” Ethan asked lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at Julian.

Julian scoffed, tone full of disdain. “As if. That petty haul’s beneath me. I was simply offering General Cross some advice—so he doesn’t get taken for a ride.”

But even as the words left his mouth, the flash of heat in his eyes gave him away.

Over a hundred thousand Tier 5 crystal cores—even someone from Atlas City wouldn’t look at that pile without feeling tempted. He just couldn’t afford to show it. Not in front of these “country bumpkins.”

“Appreciate the advice,” General Cross said calmly. “How about you don’t offer any more.”

“…”

An awkward beat followed.

Then Cross turned to Ethan with an apologetic expression. “Uh… Ethan, maybe you and Sean should head back? I’ve still got a few things to handle here.”

Obviously, he just wanted to get the fire away from the tinder before the whole place lit up. If these two morons tried to pick a fight, they were gonna die. No question.

And if Victoria Hale or Julian Mercer ended up dead in his compound? Considering the kind of weight the Hale and Mercer families pulled back in Atlas City… Cross would be in a world of trouble.

Ethan caught the look, understood it instantly, and gave a small nod. He cast a glance at the two so-called envoys and said casually, “Since General Cross asked, I’ll let it go. But let’s be clear—if either of you have ideas about my crystal cores, feel free to try me.”

With that, he turned, slinging the sack of cores over his shoulder, and walked out with Sean following close behind.

“Who the hell are you calling an idiot?!” Julian snapped, face flushing with rage.

He made to chase after them—only for Director Vaughn and Director Michael to immediately step in, grabbing both envoys by the arms and pulling them back.

“Don’t. Bad idea. Really bad idea.”

“They just insulted us! Are we seriously letting that slide?!” Victoria fumed.

“Let ’em,” Vaughn said quickly. “Better a bruised ego than a carved-up corpse.”

Julian’s eyes narrowed. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vaughn gave him a look like he couldn’t believe the guy was this dense. “You really don’t get it? You think we’re nice to them for fun?”

Julian frowned, suspicious. “Are you saying they’re that strong?”

“What do you think?” Vaughn rolled his eyes.

Why the hell would Atlas City send two spoiled rich kids like you all the way here? To intimidate someone? Too late, pal. That ship’s long gone. I’ve already been properly intimidated—and believe me, those two did it better than you ever could.

You two Tier 8s preening in front of Ethan? Man, if he weren’t restrained by our relationship, your heads would be fertilizer by now.

Julian huffed. “Sure, even if they’re tough, how strong could one guy be? Tier 8’s the ceiling for anyone without access to top-tier mutation gear. What, you wanna claim he’s Tier 9 or something?” He sneered. “You’ve got Tier 8s here in your own compound, and I don’t see anyone babying them like this.”

He scoffed again.

“If my dad hadn’t told me to lay low on this little ‘outreach trip,’ I would’ve wiped the floor with those two just now.”

“…”

A long silence.

Then General Cross’s voice turned cold.

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“You said you’d take them out? Then go. I’m honestly curious to see how that plays out.”

Julian looked taken aback—then quickly covered it with a spark of delight. He’d been holding back this whole time because it wasn’t his turf. If even the local big boss was giving the green light, why not?

He was just about to move, when—

Cross added, dry and sharp, “Just a heads-up: those two? One’s a Tier 9, the other’s Tier 8. And their crew has seven more Tier 8 Awakened.”

He gave them a slow look.

“If you’re gonna attack, remember to guard your heads. I’d like to collect enough pieces for a full burial.”

“…!!!”

The color drained from Julian and Victoria’s faces.

They froze mid-step, like someone had hit the pause button on their bodies.

The young man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing as he looked stiffly toward General Cross. “T-That’s gotta be a bluff… right?”

“You want to know if I’m lying?” Cross shrugged. “Go ahead. Try them yourself.”

He gave them a dry, pointed stare. “I’ll tell you this much—if you do, you’ll be finding out real quick… and real dead.”

“…”

“That’s impossible!” Victoria snapped, eyes wide with disbelief. “Atlas City’s the administrative hub of the entire region—we’ve thrown everything we’ve got into developing Tier 9s, and we’ve only managed to produce two! How could a random nobody be Tier 9?!”

“Believe it or don’t. Doesn’t change the situation,” Cross said, tired of explaining. “You want to charge out there and test their patience? Be my guest—I’m done stopping you.”

The two of them looked between Cross, Vaughn, and Michael, trying to sniff out any hint that this was some elaborate intimidation ploy.

But what they saw on those faces was… dead serious.

After a long moment, they begrudgingly stepped back, pulling back the feet they’d already planted toward the exit.

“…Director Vaughn,” Julian said, forcing his tone to be more composed, “that guy’s seriously Tier 9?”

“Yep.”

“But… how’d he do it?”

Vaughn huffed, clearly out of patience. “Hell if I know. I’d love to find out myself.”

Honestly, if these two weren’t envoys from Atlas with real authority behind them, Vaughn would’ve already knocked their teeth in for the crap they’d pulled since setting foot in the room.

“Alright, enough of that,” General Cross cut in, tone brisk. “Let’s get back to why you’re actually here.”

…

Meanwhile…

“Boss,” Sean asked quietly as they walked, “you think what that guy said about fusing crystal cores is legit?”

“Seems like it,” Ethan replied without looking back. “Hard to fake something like that. Atlas City has tech and talent—they’re capable of figuring something like that out.”

“You think they’ll actually share it?”

“That depends on who’s in charge now,” Ethan said. “If it’s someone who really wants to help humanity, like the old leadership, then sure—sharing that tech would save a lot of lives.”

“But if they’re selfish or power-hungry?” He shrugged. “Then all bets are off.”

“That said, the fact that those two were willing to blurt this out suggests they’re planning to share it. Or at least, share it with government-supported compounds. Privately run ones?” He smirked. “That’s a maybe.”

Sean frowned. “If it comes to that, won’t we lose our edge?”

“Nope.” Ethan shook his head. “We’ve got the Energy Absorption Technique. With that, we can level up at more than twice their speed.”

“And they’re still stuck on extracting power from Tier 5 cores—barely scratching Tier 6 conversion. Even if they crack higher-tier fusion someday, they’ll need the raw materials first. High-tier cores aren’t exactly falling from the sky.”

“One hundred low-tier cores to make one high-tier core? At that rate, mass-producing high-ranking Awakened isn’t even remotely realistic.”

Sean let out a breath. “Good. That’s been bugging me.”

“Doesn’t mean we can get cocky though,” Ethan added. “This is just the beginning. Their research’s still in the early phase. If things progress fast enough, it could lead to bigger breakthroughs later. We need to keep pushing.”

It wasn’t about challenging Atlas City directly—but Ethan had no plans to sit back and let someone else control his fate. If a clash was inevitable, then better to be ready.

“At this rate, government-backed Tier 6 Enhanced are gonna start popping up all over the place,” Sean said. “Might even hit critical mass.”

“True,” Ethan nodded. “Could be the start of humanity launching a counteroffensive.”

“But zombies aren’t slowing down either,” Sean muttered darkly. “Every time one hits Tier 6, the progression rate accelerates. And the sheer numbers they command…”

“A single Tier 9 zombie can coordinate hundreds of thousands,” Ethan said flatly. “If a Tier 10 ever shows up? We’ll be looking at million-strong hordes. Clearford might not stand a chance.”

“That means the fights from here on out will be brutal,” he added. “Leveling up won’t just be faster—it’ll be mandatory.”

“And if we want to keep leading the pack, we’ll need more than just consistency—what we need is a lucky break.”

Sean’s eyes lit up. “The Void Realm expedition tomorrow?”

Ethan nodded slowly.

“Yeah… that might be the game-changer we’ve been waiting for.”

“Let’s hope we come out of it with something really good.”

盧

魯

䘮䴠㚺䎟

魯

㐾㪈䎟㦽䴠㲄㐾㐾

㝛䘮㞥㚺䘮䙆䴠

㦋䎟㚺

㐾䏶䩟㐾

路

䏶㦽㝛䣰㝛㐾㲄

䝕㐾䴠㝛

䲔䣰㝛

䣰㚺䩟㢕㐾㐾㢕

㚺䲔㐾

㐾㐾㪈㚺䲔㦽䘮䴠䙆㲄

㚺䎟

㦋䩟䲔㐾䎟

㝛䏶䘮䣰

㐾䏶㝛㚺㥌䓸

㦽㝛䏶㲄㐾䏶䣨

䴠䎟

盧

老

䣰㦽䴠㐾䴠䘮

䎟㦽㳓

爐

㦋㣡㚺䩟

㐾䲔䓸䊞㚺

擄

蘆

䣨䱸㥌㝛

爐

㝛䩟㞥

㝛䘮䢫

㝛㙱㚺䴠䲔

䴠㝛䣰

䲔㐾㚺

㳓䘮䣰䴠

㦽㢕䴠—㦽㝛㐾㐾㢕㝛䣰䣰

“㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠㫷 㞋䎟㦋’㦽㐾 㳓䘮䴠㝛䏶䏶㲄 㥌㝛䣨䱸㫷 䙾’䊞 䩟㚺㝛㦽㪈䘮䴠䙆 䲔㐾㦽㐾㩔” 㯮䘮䙆 䢫䘮䱸㐾 䙆㦽䎟㝛䴠㐾䣰㩔 㞥㐾㝛㦽䘮䴠䙆 㝛 䊞䘮䩟㐾㦽㝛㥌䏶㐾 㐾䅋㢕㦽㐾䩟䩟䘮䎟䴠䓸 “䖖䎟 㲄䎟㦋 䲔㝛㪈㐾 㝛䴠㲄 䘮䣰㐾㝛 䲔䎟㞥 㚺䎟㦽㚺㦋㦽䎟㦋䩟 䘮㚺 䘮䩟 㚺䎟 䲔㝛㪈㐾 㲄䎟㦋㦽 䩟㚺䎟䊞㝛䣨䲔 䙆㦽䎟㞥䏶䘮䴠䙆 䏶䘮䱸㐾 䊞㝛䣰 㞥䲔䘮䏶㐾 䩟㚺㝛㦽䘮䴠䙆 㝛㚺 㝛 㳓㦋䏶䏶 㚺㝛㥌䏶㐾 䎟㳓 㳓䎟䎟䣰 㲄䎟㦋 䣨㝛䴠’㚺 㚺䎟㦋䣨䲔䣊”

䝕㦋㦽㐾㩔 䲔䘮䙆䲔䋽㚺䘮㐾㦽 䃳㞥㝛䱸㐾䴠㐾䣰 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 㦽㐾䩟䘮䩟㚺 䲔㦋䴠䙆㐾㦽 㞥㝛㲄 㥌㐾㚺㚺㐾㦽 㚺䲔㝛䴠 䴠䎟㦽䊞㝛䏶 㢕㐾䎟㢕䏶㐾—䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 䙆䎟 㳓䘮㪈㐾 䎟㦽 䩟䘮䅋 䣰㝛㲄䩟 㞥䘮㚺䲔䎟㦋㚺 㐾㝛㚺䘮䴠䙆㩔 㐾㪈㐾䴠—㥌㦋㚺 㚺䲔㝛㚺 䎟䴠䏶㲄 㝛㢕㢕䏶䘮㐾䣰 㞥䲔㐾䴠 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㞥㐾㦽㐾䴠’㚺 㥌㦋㦽䴠䘮䴠䙆 㐾䴠㐾㦽䙆㲄䓸

䣰㦋䣰㐾䲔䴠㦽

䃳䣰䴠

䢺䣰䴠䎟㐾

㝛㚺䴠䲔

䎟㞥䴠䣰

䲔䘮㦽㚺㐾

㚺㪈㐾㐾䩟䲔䊞䏶䩟㐾

㦋㢕

䴠㝛䴠䙆䙆㞥䘮

䊞䓸㚺䲔㐾

䣰䴠㝛

㦽䴠㦋

㚺䊞㐾䘮䩟䓸

㝛

䎟䴠㩔㢕䘮㚺

㚺㝛

㢕䩟䏶䋽㪈䘮㐾䴠㐾䏶㐾

䎟䊞—㪈㥌㐾䩟㐾䎟䘮㦽䢺

㚺㐾䲔㲄

㥌㐾㐾䴠

䣰㝛䎟䲔㚺䩟㦋䴠

䣊㚺䎟㝛㲄䣰

㐾䎟䊞㦽

㥌㐾䎟䣰䩟䘮

䎟䏶㐾㞥䲔

䙆㚺䴠㦋㚺䣨䘮

㚺䲔䩟䘮

䙆㝛䘮䴠㝛

䓸䩟㚺㝛㦽㪈䙆䘮䴠

㐾㦽㐾㞥

䲔㚺㦽䘮㐾

䣰䲔㝛

㳓䎟

㝛

䎟㥌㲄䣰㐾䴠

㐾㝛㚺䲔㢕䣰䣨

㐾䲔䣰㫕’㲄

㚺䃳

䲔㚺㐾

㦽䣰㲄

㚺㝛䘮㝛䊞䴠䩟

㝛䣰㲄

䣰䊞㝛䴠

‘㲄㐾䲔㫕䣰

㦋䲔㢕䩟㐾䣰

㚺䲔㐾

䏶䊞䓸䘮䘮㚺

㝛䙆䘮㝛㩔䴠

㚺㦋㥌

㝛㲄㐾㝛㦽䣰䏶

㐾㢕㚺䴠䩟

䊞㙱䏶㲄䘮

䲔㝛䣰

㝛㚺䴠㦽䘮㚺䩟䙆㪈—㦋䙆

䝕䎟 㲄㐾㝛䲔䓸 䝕䘮㚺㚺䘮䴠䙆 㝛㦽䎟㦋䴠䣰 㞥㝛䘮㚺䘮䴠䙆 㳓䎟㦽 䣰䘮䴠䴠㐾㦽 㞥㝛䩟䴠’㚺 㣡㦋䩟㚺 㳓㦽㦋䩟㚺㦽㝛㚺䘮䴠䙆—䘮㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㢕㦋㦽㐾 㚺䎟㦽㚺㦋㦽㐾䓸

“䙾㳓 㲄䎟㦋’㦽㐾 䲔㦋䴠䙆㦽㲄㩔 㐾㝛㚺䓸 䙾 䣰䘮䣰䴠’㚺 㚺㐾䏶䏶 㲄䎟㦋 㚺䎟 㞥㝛䘮㚺 㳓䎟㦽 䊞㐾㩔” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䩟㝛䘮䣰㩔 䩟䲔㝛䱸䘮䴠䙆 䲔䘮䩟 䲔㐾㝛䣰䓸 “㣋㐾’㦽㐾 䴠䎟㚺 㐾䅋㝛䣨㚺䏶㲄 㳓䎟㦽䊞㝛䏶 㝛㦽䎟㦋䴠䣰 䲔㐾㦽㐾䓸”

“䙾 㞥㝛䴠㚺㐾䣰 㚺䎟 㐾㝛㚺㫷” 㯮䘮䙆 䢫䘮䱸㐾 䙆㦽䘮㢕㐾䣰䓸 “䢫䘮㝛’䩟 㚺䲔㐾 䎟䴠㐾 㞥䲔䎟 㞥䎟㦋䏶䣰䴠’㚺 䏶㐾㚺 䊞㐾䓸 䝕㝛䘮䣰 㞥㐾 䲔㝛䣰 㚺䎟 㞥㝛䘮㚺 㳓䎟㦽 㲄䎟㦋䓸”

䢫䘮㝛 䩟䲔䎟㚺 䲔䘮䊞 㝛 䣰㐾㝛㚺䲔 䙆䏶㝛㦽㐾䓸 “㞋䎟㦋 㦽㐾㝛䏶䏶㲄 㚺䲔䘮䴠䱸 䘮㚺’䣰 㥌㐾 䎟䱸㝛㲄 㐾㝛㚺䘮䴠䙆 㥌㐾㳓䎟㦽㐾 㚺䲔㐾 㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠 䣨㝛䊞㐾 㥌㝛䣨䱸䣊”

“…”

㚺䎟䱸䎟

䲔㛁䘮㦽䩟

䲔㝛㙱䴠”㩔㚺”

䩟䎟

㲄㦋䎟

䎟㞥㚺

“㞥㝛䲔㚺

䩟㦽䣨㦋䘮㩔㦋䎟㲄䏶

䱸㢕㐾䩟䎟

“䣊䎟䙆䏶䴠

㦋㢕

“䟓㝛䴠 䘮䴠㚺䎟 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 䎟䴠 㚺䲔㐾 㞥㝛㲄䓸 㟅㐾㚺’䩟 㐾㝛㚺 㳓䘮㦽䩟㚺—䙾’䏶䏶 㚺㝛䏶䱸 㞥䲔䘮䏶㐾 㞥㐾 㐾㝛㚺䓸”

“䣟䎟㚺 䘮㚺䓸”

䴠㦽㐾㐾㪈㲄㙱䎟

㦽䲔㐾䘮㚺

䴠䘮

㝛㳓䩟㚺

㦋䣰䙆

䣰䣰㢕㦽㐾㢕䎟

㞥䲔䎟㦋䘮㚺㚺

㝛䴠䣰

㚺䩟㐾䘮㝛㚺䎟䘮䲔䓸䴠

㐾㚺䩟䩟㝛

㚺䴠䎟䘮

䃳䩟 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㝛㚺㐾㩔 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㳓䘮䏶䏶㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾䊞 䘮䴠 䎟䴠 㞥䲔㝛㚺 䲔㝛䣰 䲔㝛㢕㢕㐾䴠㐾䣰 㐾㝛㦽䏶䘮㐾㦽䓸 䜣䘮䩟 㦋㢕䣰㝛㚺㐾 䘮䊞䊞㐾䣰䘮㝛㚺㐾䏶㲄 䣨㝛䩟㚺 㝛 䩟䲔㝛䣰䎟㞥 䎟㪈㐾㦽 㐾㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾’䩟 䊞䎟䎟䣰—㝛䴠䣰 㝛䣰䣰㐾䣰 㝛 㞥䲔䎟䏶㐾 䴠㐾㞥 䏶㐾㪈㐾䏶 䎟㳓 㢕㦽㐾䩟䩟㦋㦽㐾䓸

䖖䘮䴠䴠㐾㦽 䣰䎟䴠㐾㩔 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㦽䎟㦋㢕 㳓䎟䏶䏶䎟㞥㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾䘮㦽 㦋䩟㦋㝛䏶 㦽䎟㦋㚺䘮䴠㐾㾢 㐾㝛㦽䏶㲄 㚺䎟 㥌㐾䣰㩔 㦋㢕 䣰㦋㦽䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 䴠䘮䙆䲔㚺 㚺䎟 㝛㥌䩟䎟㦽㥌 㚺䲔㐾 䊞㲄䩟㚺㐾㦽䘮䎟㦋䩟 㐾䴠㐾㦽䙆㲄 㦋䴠䣰㐾㦽 㚺䲔㐾 䩟㚺㝛㦽䩟㩔 㚺䲔㐾䴠 㥌㝛䣨䱸 㚺䎟 䩟䏶㐾㐾㢕 㳓䎟㦽 㝛 㳓㐾㞥 䊞䎟㦽㐾 䲔䎟㦋㦽䩟 䎟䴠䣨㐾 㚺䲔㐾 䩟㚺㝛㦽䏶䘮䙆䲔㚺 㳓㝛䣰㐾䣰䓸

㝛䊞䓸䓸

㲄㯮

㳓䎟㦽

䏶䏶㝛

㝛䘮䙆㝛䴠

㳓㝛㚺䩟䱸㐾䓸㦽㝛㥌

㦽䩟㩔㢕䲔㝛

䲔㲄㐾㚺

㽗

㞥㐾㦽㐾

㢕㦋

䃳㳓㚺㐾㦽 㐾㝛㚺䘮䴠䙆㩔 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㢕㝛䣨䱸㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾䘮㦽 䙆㐾㝛㦽 㝛䴠䣰 䲔㐾㝛䣰㐾䣰 䎟㦋㚺䓸

䢫䎟㦽䴠䘮䴠䙆䩟 㝛㚺 㚺䲔㐾 㛁䏶㐾㝛㦽㳓䎟㦽䣰 㛁䘮㚺㲄 䣨䎟䊞㢕䎟㦋䴠䣰 㞥㐾㦽㐾 㝛䏶㞥㝛㲄䩟 㥌㦋䩟㲄㺵 㚺䎟䴠䩟 䎟㳓 㢕㐾䎟㢕䏶㐾 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 㥌㐾 䩟㐾㐾䴠 䩟㚺㦽㐾㝛䊞䘮䴠䙆 䎟㦋㚺 䎟㳓 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㝛㚺㐾䩟䓸

㐾䘮䊞㚺㩔

䏶䃳䏶

䎟䴠䘮䣨䙆䊞䩟

㦽㐾㪈䎟

㦋䩟㣡㚺

㚺䴠䩟䲔䙆䘮

䊞㝛䩟㐾䴠

㦋㢕䓸

䘮㚺

㝛䣰䲔䴠

㥌㐾

䘮䲔㞥䲔䣨

䎟㳓㦽

㐾㦽㐾㳓㳓㚺䘮䴠䣰

㝛䩟㐾䣰䩟㚺㰎㦋㝛䊞—

䴠㝛䣰

䣰㝛䲔

㚺㐾䏶䘮㐾

㝛

㝛㞥䩟

䎟䏶㩔䣰䙆㐾䙆

䎟㚺

䎟㳓

䩟䏶䘮㚺

䏶㦽㐾䣰㝛㐾䩟

㦋䏶䣰䎟䣨

䣰䩟㢕㐾

㥌㦋㚺

䎟㳓

䘮䴠䩟䎟䙆䙆

㝛㝛䲔䣰㐾

䃳䩟 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠’䩟 䙆㦽䎟㦋㢕 㝛㢕㢕㐾㝛㦽㐾䣰 㝛㚺 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㝛㚺㐾䩟㩔 㝛䏶䏶 㐾㲄㐾䩟 㚺㦋㦽䴠㐾䣰 㚺䎟 㚺䲔㐾䊞䓸 㣋䘮㚺䲔䘮䴠 䩟㐾䣨䎟䴠䣰䩟㩔 㚺䲔㐾 䣨㦽䎟㞥䣰 䘮䴠䩟㚺䘮䴠䣨㚺䘮㪈㐾䏶㲄 㢕㝛㦽㚺㐾䣰㩔 䊞㝛䱸䘮䴠䙆 㞥㝛㲄䓸

㞋㐾㝛䲔䓸 㫕䲔㝛㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㚺䲔㐾 䱸䘮䴠䣰 䎟㳓 㚺㦽㐾㝛㚺䊞㐾䴠㚺 㲄䎟㦋 㐾㝛㦽䴠㐾䣰 㥌㲄 㢕㦽䎟㪈䘮䴠䙆 㲄䎟㦋㦽䩟㐾䏶㳓䓸

㐾䘮䩟㚺䎟㦋䣰

㐾䏶㩔䣰㝛

㦋䙆䙆䘮䣰䘮䴠

㚺䲔㐾

䎟㚺䎟䱸

㐾䯯㚺㐾

㐾䣨䝃䴠

䝕䴠䘮䱸㲄䴠

䊞䎟䴠㩔䣨䣰㢕䎟㦋

㚺䩟㦋䎟䲔䓸

䊞㚺䲔㐾

㐾㚺䲔

䃳㥌䎟㦋㚺 䲔㝛䏶㳓㞥㝛㲄 㝛䏶䎟䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 㦽䎟㦋㚺㐾㩔 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䲔㝛䣰 䝕䱸䘮䴠䴠㲄 䯯㐾㚺㐾 䩟㦋䊞䊞䎟䴠 㯮㐾䴠䙆㝛䏶 㫕䘮䙆㐾㦽 䣟䎟䏶䣰䘮㐾 㝛䴠䣰 㚺䲔㐾 䃳䊞㐾㦽䘮䣨㝛䴠 䟊㝛䙆㦋㝛㦽㩔 䝕㢕㐾䣨䱸䏶㐾䩟䓸 㙱㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾 䊞䎟㦋䴠㚺㐾䣰 㦋㢕䓸

䙾㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㝛 㚺䘮䙆䲔㚺 㳓䘮㚺 㞥䘮㚺䲔 㚺䲔㐾 㳓㦋䏶䏶 䩟㰎㦋㝛䣰—䣰㐾㳓䘮䴠䘮㚺㐾䏶㲄 㝛 㥌䘮㚺 䊞䎟㦽㐾 䣨㦽䎟㞥䣰㐾䣰 㚺䲔㝛䴠 㦋䩟㦋㝛䏶䓸

㝛㦽㐾䙆䴠䎟

㝛䘮䢫

䴠㩔䝕㝛㐾

䏶㝛䏶

䴠㝛䣰

䴠㝛䣰

㦽䣟䱸㦽䣨䘮㝛㩔

䴠㢕䓸䊞䘮㦋䱸䯯

䴠䘮䴠㲄䱸䝕

䓸䏶䣰䎟䣟䘮㐾

䝕㢕㐾䣨䱸䏶㐾䩟䓸

䘮㛁㦽䲔䩟㩔

㐾㚺䲔

㥌䙆䘮㐾㦽䙆

䴠㚺䎟䎟

䘮䏶㙱䊞㲄

㐾䯯㐾㚺

䴠䎟

㚺㥌㝛㲄㥌

䙆㚺䎟

㦽䣰䎟㐾

㦋䊞㥌䣨㐾䏶䣰䙆㲄—䩟䘮

㝛㦋㚺䴠䊞㩔㚺

㯮䙆䘮

—䘮㐾䢫䱸㐾㥌䴠䙆䘮

㝛䴠䣰

䴠㲄㦽㐾䜣㩔

㐾䲔㚺

䲔㙱䴠㝛㚺㩔

㫕䲔㐾㲄 䙆㝛䏶䏶䎟㢕㐾䣰 䩟䎟㦋㚺䲔㩔 䣨䎟㪈㐾㦽䘮䴠䙆 㝛㥌䎟㦋㚺 䩟䘮䅋 䊞䘮䏶㐾䩟 㥌㐾㳓䎟㦽㐾 䣨㦽䎟䩟䩟䘮䴠䙆 䘮䴠㚺䎟 㝛 䣰㝛䴠䙆㐾㦽 䢺䎟䴠㐾—㝛䴠 㝛㦽㐾㝛 㚺䲔㐾 䊞䘮䏶䘮㚺㝛㦽㲄 䲔㝛䣰䴠’㚺 䣨䏶㐾㝛㦽㐾䣰䓸

㫕䲔㐾 䘮䴠䣨㦽㐾㝛䩟㐾 䘮䴠 䢺䎟䊞㥌䘮㐾 㢕㦽㐾䩟㐾䴠䣨㐾 㞥㝛䩟 䘮䊞䊞㐾䣰䘮㝛㚺㐾䓸 䯯㝛䣨䱸䩟 䎟㳓 㚺䲔㐾䊞 䩟䲔䎟㞥㐾䣰 㦋㢕 䊞䎟㦽㐾 㝛䴠䣰 䊞䎟㦽㐾 䎟㳓㚺㐾䴠䓸

㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㝛䣨㚺䘮㪈㝛㚺㐾䣰 㫕㦽㦋㐾 䝕䘮䙆䲔㚺 㝛䴠䣰 䏶㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾 㞥㝛㲄㩔 䩟㚺㐾㐾㦽䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㦽䎟㦋㢕 㝛㦽䎟㦋䴠䣰 㝛䴠㲄 䊞䎟㥌䩟 㚺䲔㐾㲄 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 㝛㪈䎟䘮䣰䓸 㣋䲔㐾䴠 㚺䲔㐾㲄 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰䴠’㚺㩔 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㣡㦋䩟㚺 䣨㦋㚺 㝛 㥌䏶䎟䎟䣰㲄 㢕㝛㚺䲔 䩟㚺㦽㝛䘮䙆䲔㚺 㚺䲔㦽䎟㦋䙆䲔䓸

㫕䲔䘮䩟 㚺㦽䘮㢕 㞥㝛䩟 㝛㥌䎟㦋㚺 㳓䘮䴠䣰䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 䃧䎟䘮䣰 䟓㐾㝛䏶䊞㩔 䴠䎟㚺 㞥㝛䩟㚺䘮䴠䙆 㐾䴠㐾㦽䙆㲄 䎟䴠 㐾䴠䣰䏶㐾䩟䩟 䩟䱸䘮㦽䊞䘮䩟䲔㐾䩟䓸

䃳㳓㚺㐾㦽 㚺㞥䎟 䩟䎟䏶䘮䣰 䲔䎟㦋㦽䩟 䎟㳓 㚺㦽㝛㪈㐾䏶㩔 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㳓䘮䴠㝛䏶䏶㲄 䏶㐾㳓㚺 㚺䲔㐾 䣨䘮㚺㲄 䏶䘮䊞䘮㚺䩟 䎟㳓 㛁䏶㐾㝛㦽㳓䎟㦽䣰 㝛䴠䣰 㦽㐾㝛䣨䲔㐾䣰 㝛 㦽㐾䊞䎟㚺㐾 䏶䘮㚺㚺䏶㐾 㚺䎟㞥䴠䓸

䴠䏶㐾䣰䣰㲄䩟㦋

㞥䴠䲔㐾

㝛

䓸㞥㐾䣰䘮

㚺㐾䏶

䲔㚺㝛䩟’㫕

䱸䴠㲄䝕䴠䘮

㝛㥌䲔㐾㩔㦽㚺

㦽㝛㢕䲔䩟

㚺䯯㐾㐾

㲄䩟㐾㐾

㚺㦋䎟

“㣋䲔㝛㚺 䘮䩟 䘮㚺䣊” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠㩔 䩟㐾㝛㚺㐾䣰 㥌㐾䲔䘮䴠䣰 䲔䘮䊞㩔 㝛䩟䱸㐾䣰 㞥䘮㚺䲔 㝛 㳓㦽䎟㞥䴠䓸

“㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠—䣟䎟䏶䣰㐾䴠 㙱㝛䙆䏶㐾 䢦㦋䙆䙆㐾㚺䓸䓸䓸 䘮㚺’䩟 䲔㦋㦽㚺䓸 㯮㝛䣰䏶㲄䓸 䙾 䣨㝛䴠 㳓㐾㐾䏶 䘮㚺䩟 䏶䘮㳓㐾 㳓䎟㦽䣨㐾—䘮㚺’䩟 䩟䎟 㳓㝛䘮䴠㚺 䴠䎟㞥䓸”

㫷””㫷

㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠’䩟 䲔㐾㝛㦽㚺 䏶㦋㦽䣨䲔㐾䣰䓸

䢦㦋䙆䙆㐾㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㝛 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䥠 䊞㦋㚺㝛䴠㚺 㥌㐾㝛䩟㚺䓸 䃳 㳓䏶㲄䘮䴠䙆 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䥠䓸 㣋䲔㝛㚺 㚺䲔㐾 䲔㐾䏶䏶 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 䘮䴠㣡㦋㦽㐾 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 䏶䘮䱸㐾 㚺䲔㝛㚺䣊

㙱㪈㐾䴠 㞥䲔㐾䴠 㚺䲔㐾㲄’䣰 㚺㝛䱸㐾䴠 䘮㚺 䣰䎟㞥䴠㩔 䘮㚺 䲔㝛䣰 䣨䎟䩟㚺 㚺䲔㐾䊞 㝛 㳓䎟㦽㚺㦋䴠㐾 䘮䴠 䩟㚺㦽㐾䴠䙆㚺䲔 㝛䴠䣰 㦽㐾䩟䎟㦋㦽䣨㐾䩟—㝛䴠䣰 㚺䲔㝛㚺 㞥㝛䩟 䎟䴠䏶㲄 㢕䎟䩟䩟䘮㥌䏶㐾 㥌㐾䣨㝛㦋䩟㐾 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䲔㝛䣰 㫕㐾䏶㐾㢕䎟㦽㚺㝛㚺䘮䎟䴠 䘮䴠 䲔䘮䩟 㝛㦽䩟㐾䴠㝛䏶䓸

“䙾㚺 䙆䎟㚺 䲔㦋㦽㚺 䘮䴠 㚺䲔㐾 䃧䎟䘮䣰 䟓㐾㝛䏶䊞㩔” 㛁䲔㦽䘮䩟 䩟㝛䘮䣰㩔 㥌㦽䎟㞥 㳓㦋㦽㦽䎟㞥㐾䣰䓸 “䖖䎟㐾䩟 㚺䲔㝛㚺 䊞㐾㝛䴠 㚺䲔㐾㦽㐾’䩟 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 㝛䏶䘮㪈㐾 䘮䴠 㚺䲔㐾㦽㐾䣊”

“㛁䎟㦋䏶䣰 䘮㚺 㥌㐾 㚺䲔㐾 䝕䘮䏶㪈㐾㦽㳓䎟䅋 䝕㰎㦋㝛䣰䣊” 䜣㐾䴠㦽㲄 㝛䩟䱸㐾䣰䓸

“䢦䎟 㞥㝛㲄㩔” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䩟㝛䘮䣰 㳓䘮㦽䊞䏶㲄䓸 “䝕䘮䏶㪈㐾㦽㳓䎟䅋 䝕㰎㦋㝛䣰 䣰䎟㐾䩟䴠’㚺 䲔㝛㪈㐾 㞥䲔㝛㚺 䘮㚺 㚺㝛䱸㐾䩟 㚺䎟 䘮䴠㣡㦋㦽㐾 䢦㦋䙆䙆㐾㚺䓸 䙾㳓 䘮㚺 䙆䎟㚺 䲔㦋㦽㚺㩔 㚺䲔㝛㚺 䊞㐾㝛䴠䩟 㚺䲔㐾㦽㐾 䘮䩟 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 䏶䘮㪈䘮䴠䙆 䘮䴠䩟䘮䣰㐾 㚺䲔㐾 䃧䎟䘮䣰 䟓㐾㝛䏶䊞䓸”

䜣䘮䩟 㚺䎟䴠㐾 䙆㦽㐾㞥 䲔㐾㝛㪈䘮㐾㦽䓸 “䃳䴠䣰 㞥䲔㝛㚺㐾㪈㐾㦽 㚺䲔㝛㚺 㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 䘮䩟㩔 䘮㚺’䩟 㝛㚺 䏶㐾㝛䩟㚺 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䥠䓸 䢫㝛㲄㥌㐾 㐾㪈㐾䴠䓸䓸䓸 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䚚㥝䓸”

䜣㐾㝛㦽䘮䴠䙆 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䊞㐾䴠㚺䘮䎟䴠 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䚚㥝㩔 㐾㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾’䩟 䲔㐾㝛㦽㚺 䩟䱸䘮㢕㢕㐾䣰 㝛 㥌㐾㝛㚺䓸

㳓䎟

䣨㐾㐾㦋䣰䴠㦽䎟㚺䴠㐾

㚺䲔䊞㐾

䴠㪈㐾㐾

䎟㳓

䴠㚺䊞㝛䓸㐾

㦽㐾䘮㫕

㝛㞥䲔㚺

㐾㪈㐾㦽

䲔㝛䙆䴠㲄䘮㚺䴠

㝛䣰䲔

䎟㐾䴠

䴠—䚚㥝䴠㐾䎟

䱸㞥䴠㐾

䎟䢦

㝛㚺䓸㚺䲔

䘮㐾䏶䱸

䣰䴠䘮䱸

㐾䎟㞥㢕㦽

㚺䘮

“㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠䓸䓸䓸 㞥䲔㝛㚺 䣰䎟 㞥㐾 䣰䎟䣊” 䝕䱸䘮䴠䴠㲄 䯯㐾㚺㐾 㝛䩟䱸㐾䣰㩔 㝛 䲔䘮䴠㚺 䎟㳓 㞥䎟㦽㦽㲄 䘮䴠 䲔䘮䩟 㪈䎟䘮䣨㐾䓸 “䃳㦽㐾 㞥㐾 䩟㚺䘮䏶䏶 䙆䎟䘮䴠䙆䣊”

“㣋㐾’㦽㐾 䙆䎟䘮䴠䙆㩔” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䩟㝛䘮䣰 㞥䘮㚺䲔䎟㦋㚺 䲔㐾䩟䘮㚺㝛㚺䘮䎟䴠䓸 “㣋䘮㚺䲔 㚺䲔㐾 㢕䎟㞥㐾㦽 㞥㐾’㪈㐾 䙆䎟㚺 䴠䎟㞥㩔 㞥㐾 䩟䲔䎟㦋䏶䣰 㥌㐾 㝛㥌䏶㐾 㚺䎟 䲔㝛䴠䣰䏶㐾 㝛 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䚚㥝䓸”

“㯮㦋㚺 㞥䲔㝛㚺 䘮㳓 䘮㚺’䩟 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 㝛㥌䎟㪈㐾 㫕䘮㐾㦽 䚚㥝䣊” 㛁䲔㦽䘮䩟 㝛䩟䱸㐾䣰㩔 㥌㦽䎟㞥䩟 㚺䘮䙆䲔㚺 㞥䘮㚺䲔 䣨䎟䴠䣨㐾㦽䴠䓸

“…”

㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㢕㝛㦋䩟㐾䣰䓸 㫕䲔㐾䴠㾢 “䖖䎟㦋㥌㚺 䘮㚺䓸 䙾㳓 䘮㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㚺䲔㝛㚺 㚺㐾㦽㦽䘮㳓㲄䘮䴠䙆㩔 䢦㦋䙆䙆㐾㚺 㞥䎟㦋䏶䣰䴠’㚺 䩟㚺䘮䏶䏶 㥌㐾 㝛䏶䘮㪈㐾䓸”

㦽䘮㛁䩟䲔

䩟䩟㐾㐾”䓸䴠

㚺”㫕㝛䲔

㦋㐾㫕”㦽㩔”

䓸㲄䏶䎟㞥䏶䩟

㐾䴠䎟䣰䣰䣰

䱸䊞䩟㝛㐾

“㟅㐾㚺’䩟 䱸㐾㐾㢕 䊞䎟㪈䘮䴠䙆䓸”

㫕䲔㐾㲄 㢕㦽㐾䩟䩟㐾䣰 䎟䴠㩔 㦽䘮䣰䘮䴠䙆 㳓䎟㦽 㝛䴠䎟㚺䲔㐾㦽 㚺䲔䘮㦽㚺㲄 䊞䘮䴠㦋㚺㐾䩟 䎟㦽 䩟䎟 㥌㐾㳓䎟㦽㐾 㝛㦽㦽䘮㪈䘮䴠䙆 㝛㚺 㝛 䩟㚺㦽㐾㚺䣨䲔 䎟㳓 䏶䎟㞥 䊞䎟㦋䴠㚺㝛䘮䴠䩟䓸 㯮㐾䏶䎟㞥 㚺䲔㐾 䲔䘮䏶䏶䩟 䩟㝛㚺 㝛 䴠㝛䊞㐾䏶㐾䩟䩟㩔 㦽㦋䘮䴠㐾䣰 㚺䎟㞥䴠䓸

㦽㞥㝛—㚺㚺㝛㢕䲔㝛

䴠㝛䣰

䏶䘮䙆䘮㪈䴠

䎟䙆䴠䏶

䴠䎟㚺

䴠䘮

㝛

㐾䏶㢕䣨㝛

㐾䣨㲄䣰㝛

㝛㞥䩟

䲔㚺䓸䩟䘮䙆

㩔㥌䢺㐾䘮䎟䊞䩟

㞥䘮㚺㝛㝛䣰㐾

㚺䲔䊞㐾

㦋䩟䏶䎟

㥌㦋㚺

㝛䲔䣰

䏶㐾䏶㳓㝛䴠

䙆䩟㐾䏶䘮䴠

㐾㫕䲔

䩟䘮㐾䣨䴠

䎟䴠䴠䘮㚺䲔䙆

“㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠㩔 䘮㚺 䩟䲔䎟㦋䏶䣰 㥌㐾 䣨䏶䎟䩟㐾 䴠䎟㞥㩔” 䝕䱸䘮䴠䴠㲄 䯯㐾㚺㐾 䩟㝛䘮䣰㩔 䣨䲔㐾䣨䱸䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾䘮㦽 䩟㦋㦽㦽䎟㦋䴠䣰䘮䴠䙆䩟䓸

“㞋㐾㝛䲔㩔” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䴠䎟䣰䣰㐾䣰㩔 䩟䘮䙆䴠㝛䏶䘮䴠䙆 㳓䎟㦽 㚺䲔㐾 䊞䎟㦋䴠㚺䩟 㚺䎟 䲔㝛䏶㚺䓸

䱸䣨䏶㰎㦋䓸䘮㲄

䣰䘮䣰㚺㦋䩟䎟䊞㐾䴠

㲄㫕㐾䲔

“㙱㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾 䩟㢕㦽㐾㝛䣰 䎟㦋㚺㩔” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䎟㦽䣰㐾㦽㐾䣰䓸 “䀨䎟䣨㦋䩟 䎟䴠 㝛䴠㲄㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㝛㚺 㳓㐾㐾䏶䩟䓸䓸䓸 䎟㳓㳓䓸 㟅䎟䎟䱸 㳓䎟㦽 䩟㢕㝛㚺䘮㝛䏶 䣰䘮䩟㚺䎟㦽㚺䘮䎟䴠 䎟㦽 㝛䴠㲄 㝛㦽㐾㝛䩟 㚺䲔㝛㚺 䩟㐾㐾䊞 䩟㚺㦽㝛䴠䙆㐾䓸 䙾㳓 㲄䎟㦋 㳓䘮䴠䣰 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆㩔 㳓䏶㝛䙆 䊞㐾 䣰䎟㞥䴠 㦽䘮䙆䲔㚺 㝛㞥㝛㲄䓸”

“䣟䎟㚺 䘮㚺䓸”

㚺䲔䘮㣋

㚺䲔㩔㝛㚺

䩟䴠䴠䴠䣨䘮㝛䙆

㐾䲔㚺

䲔䘮㞥㚺

㐾䩟䓸㲄㐾

㢕㝛㩔㦽䩟䲔

㝛㦽㝛㐾

㐾㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟㐾䴠

㦽䣰㝛䘮䴠㚺㐾

䣰䘮㩔㦽䩟㢕䩟㐾㐾䣰

㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䩟㚺㝛㲄㐾䣰 䎟䴠 䣟䎟䏶䣰䘮㐾㩔 䣨䘮㦽䣨䏶䘮䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 䲔䘮䏶䏶䩟 㞥䲔䘮䏶㐾 䱸㐾㐾㢕䘮䴠䙆 㫕㦽㦋㐾 䝕䘮䙆䲔㚺 㝛䣨㚺䘮㪈㐾㩔 䣨䎟䊞㥌䘮䴠䙆 㐾㪈㐾㦽㲄 䘮䴠䣨䲔 㞥䘮㚺䲔 㳓䎟䣨㦋䩟䓸

㫕䲔㐾䩟㐾 䲔䘮䏶䏶䩟 㞥㐾㦽㐾 䣰䘮㳓㳓㐾㦽㐾䴠㚺 㳓㦽䎟䊞 㚺䲔㐾 䎟䴠㐾䩟 㥌㝛䣨䱸 䘮䴠 䟓㐾䣰㞥䎟䎟䣰 㛁䎟㦋䴠㚺㲄䓸 䝃㪈㐾㦽 㚺䲔㐾㦽㐾㩔 㚺䲔㐾 䊞䎟㦋䴠㚺㝛䘮䴠䩟 㞥㐾㦽㐾 㚺㝛䏶䏶 㝛䴠䣰 㚺䲔䘮䣨䱸 㞥䘮㚺䲔 㚺㦽㐾㐾䩟䓸

䲔㞥㚺㝛

㝛㐾㥌䊞㲄

㐾㦽㐾㞥

㦽䘮㝛㐾㦽䴠㚺

䎟䘮䏶㐾㝛㐾㚺㪈䓸䴠

䲔㦋㐾䙆

䴠㦽㞥䙆䎟

㐾㢕㚺䣰䩟㐾䘮

㪈䎟㐾䙆䘮㐾䴠㚺㚺㝛

䲔㝛䣰

䏶䎟㞥

㚺㐾㐾䩟㦽

㐾䣊㐾䲔㦽

㦽㦽㝛㦋䩟㩔㚺㢕䩟䲔㐾䲔䙆䎟—

㝛㐾㥌㐾䣨㦋䩟

䲔㚺㐾

㰎㦋䘮㝛䣰䏶䘮㐾㳓

䲔䏶䘮䏶䩟㩔

㐾䲔㚺

㝛䣰䴠

㐾䲔㫕

㚺㦋㯮

䩟㝛

㩔㐾㐾㦽䴠䙆㲄

㞥㝛䩟

㲄䘮㚺㐾䩟䎟㦋䩟㦽䊞

㥌䏶㝛㐾㲄㦽

䲔㚺㐾

䲔㦽㐾㐾

䎟㳓

㫕䲔㐾㦽㐾 㞥㐾㦽㐾 䊞㦋㚺㝛䴠㚺 㥌㐾㝛䩟㚺䩟 㚺㦋䣨䱸㐾䣰 㝛㞥㝛㲄 㝛䊞䎟䴠䙆 㚺䲔㐾 䩟䏶䎟㢕㐾䩟㩔 㥌㦋㚺 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㞥㐾㦽㐾 䎟䴠 㚺䲔㐾 䩟䊞㝛䏶䏶㐾㦽 䩟䘮䣰㐾—䴠䎟 䲔㦋䙆㐾 㚺䲔㦽㐾㝛㚺䩟䓸 䃳䴠䣰 㚺䲔㝛䴠䱸䩟 㚺䎟 䣟䎟䏶䣰䘮㐾 㝛䴠䣰 㚺䲔㐾 䎟㚺䲔㐾㦽䩟 䙆䘮㪈䘮䴠䙆 䎟㳓㳓 䩟㐾㦽䘮䎟㦋䩟 㫕䘮㐾㦽 㢕㦽㐾䩟䩟㦋㦽㐾㩔 㚺䲔㐾 䏶䎟䣨㝛䏶 䊞㦋㚺㝛䴠㚺䩟 䱸㐾㢕㚺 㞥㐾䏶䏶 䎟㦋㚺 䎟㳓 䩟䘮䙆䲔㚺䓸

㙱㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾 䩟㐾㝛㦽䣨䲔㐾䣰 䣰䘮䏶䘮䙆㐾䴠㚺䏶㲄 㳓䎟㦽 䴠㐾㝛㦽䏶㲄 㝛䴠 䲔䎟㦋㦽䓸 䃳䴠䣰—㦋䴠䩟㦋㦽㢕㦽䘮䩟䘮䴠䙆䏶㲄—䘮㚺 㞥㝛䩟 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㞥䲔䎟 㳓䘮䴠㝛䏶䏶㲄 㳓䎟㦋䴠䣰 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆䓸

䏶㐾㐾䩟

䎟䢦

㐾㲄㐾䩟

㚺㐾䣨䊞䎟㐾㢕

䴠㐾䎟

㳓䎟

㐾㚺䎟䲔䩟

䘮㚺㞥䲔

䣰䣨䏶䎟㦋

䘮䩟䲔䓸

䜣㐾 䣨㝛䏶䏶㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾 䩟㰎㦋㝛䣰 䎟㪈㐾㦽 㚺䎟 㝛 䩟䏶䘮䙆䲔㚺䏶㲄 䲔䘮䙆䲔㐾㦽 䲔䘮䏶䏶㚺䎟㢕䓸 䀨䏶䎟㝛㚺䘮䴠䙆 㝛㥌䎟㦋㚺 䩟䘮䅋 㳓㐾㐾㚺 䎟㳓㳓 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㦽䎟㦋䴠䣰 㝛㥌䎟㪈㐾 㚺䲔㐾 㢕㐾㝛䱸㩔 㚺䲔㐾㲄 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 㝛䏶䏶 䩟㐾㐾 䘮㚺 䴠䎟㞥—䩟㢕㝛㚺䘮㝛䏶 䣰䘮䩟㚺䎟㦽㚺䘮䎟䴠䓸 䃳 㪈䘮䩟䘮㥌䏶㐾 㞥㝛㦽㢕䘮䴠䙆 䘮䴠 㚺䲔㐾 㝛䘮㦽䓸

㫕䲔䘮䩟 䎟䴠㐾 㞥㝛䩟 㥌䘮䙆 㐾䴠䎟㦋䙆䲔 㚺䲔㝛㚺 㐾㪈㐾䴠 㛁䲔㦽䘮䩟 㝛䴠䣰 㚺䲔㐾 䎟㚺䲔㐾㦽䩟㩔 㞥䘮㚺䲔䎟㦋㚺 㝛 䣰㐾㚺㐾䣨㚺䘮䎟䴠 㝛㥌䘮䏶䘮㚺㲄㩔 䣨䎟㦋䏶䣰 䣨䏶㐾㝛㦽䏶㲄 㚺㐾䏶䏶 䩟䎟䊞㐾㚺䲔䘮䴠䙆 㞥㝛䩟 䎟㳓㳓䓸

䓸䊞䘮䲔

䣊㝛䏶㪈㐾”䘮

㚺䩟䘮䏶䏶

㐾䯯”…”㐾㚺

䣰㝛㚺䎟㦽㞥

㦋䢦㐾䙆䙆㚺

㐾㚺䴠㦋㦽䣰

䩟䙾”

䴠㙱㚺䲔㝛

“㞋㐾㝛䲔㩔 㥌㦋㚺 䘮㚺’䩟 㥌㝛䣰㩔” 䝕䱸䘮䴠䴠㲄 䯯㐾㚺㐾 䩟㝛䘮䣰㩔 㐾䅋㢕㦽㐾䩟䩟䘮䎟䴠 㚺㐾䴠䩟㐾䓸 “䙾㚺’䩟 䲔㝛䴠䙆䘮䴠䙆 䎟䴠 㥌㲄 㝛 㚺䲔㦽㐾㝛䣰䓸”

“䃳䏶㦽䘮䙆䲔㚺䓸” 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 䩟䣨㝛䴠䴠㐾䣰 㚺䲔㐾 䙆㦽䎟㦋㢕㩔 䲔䘮䩟 㚺䎟䴠㐾 㚺㦋㦽䴠䘮䴠䙆 䩟㐾㦽䘮䎟㦋䩟䓸 “䣟㐾㚺 㦽㐾㝛䣰㲄䓸 㫕䲔䘮䩟 䃧䎟䘮䣰 䟓㐾㝛䏶䊞 䊞䘮䙆䲔㚺 㥌㐾 䣨䎟䊞㢕䏶㐾㚺㐾䏶㲄 䣰䘮㳓㳓㐾㦽㐾䴠㚺 㳓㦽䎟䊞 㚺䲔㐾 䏶㝛䩟㚺 䎟䴠㐾䓸”

䏶㝛䏶

㲄㐾䲔㚺

䣰䎟䣰㐾䴠䣰㩔

㝛䲔㢕㦽䩟䓸

䩟㐾㐾㲄

“㩔㽨㦽䎟䩟䣰㐾䎟䴠”䣰㚺

“䝕㝛䊞㐾 㝛䩟 㥌㐾㳓䎟㦽㐾—䙾’䏶䏶 䙆䎟 䘮䴠 㳓䘮㦽䩟㚺䓸 㞋䎟㦋 㝛䏶䏶 䩟㚺㝛㲄 䲔㐾㦽㐾䓸 䙾㳓 䘮㚺’䩟 䣨䏶㐾㝛㦽㩔 䙾’䏶䏶 䣨䎟䊞㐾 㥌㝛䣨䱸 㝛䴠䣰 㥌㦽䘮䴠䙆 㲄䎟㦋 䘮䴠䓸”

“㯮㐾 䣨㝛㦽㐾㳓㦋䏶㩔 㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠㫷”

䎟䘮㚺䴠

㐾㥌㚺㝛䲔㚺—䴠㦽㐾䲔

䊞㣡䣰㦋㐾㢕

㦋䎟㚺

㝛㚺㙱䴠䲔

䎟䎟䱸㚺

䩟㚺㝛㚺㦽䘮䙆䲔

㚺䲔㐾

㐾䣰㚺㚺䎟䣰䘮䩟㦽

䲔䩟䘮

㐾䩟䓸㝛䣨㢕

䣰㐾㢕㐾

䏶䣰䏶㢕㦋㐾

䘮䙆㚺䲔㚺

䙆㪈㐾㝛

㝛

㐾㐾䎟䅋㝛㢕㩔䏶

㩔䎟䣰䴠

㝛

㫕䲔㐾 䎟㚺䲔㐾㦽䩟 䩟㚺䎟䎟䣰 㝛㚺 㚺䲔㐾 㦽㐾㝛䣰㲄㩔 㐾㲄㐾䩟 䙆䏶㦋㐾䣰 㚺䎟 㚺䲔㐾 㞥㝛㦽㢕䘮䴠䙆 㝛㥌䎟㪈㐾 㚺䲔㐾䊞㩔 䴠㐾㦽㪈㐾䩟 㚺䘮䙆䲔㚺 㝛䩟 㚺䲔㐾㲄 㞥㝛䘮㚺㐾䣰 㳓䎟㦽 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㚺䎟 㦽㐾㚺㦋㦽䴠䓸

㟅㐾䩟䩟 㚺䲔㝛䴠 㚺㞥䎟 䊞䘮䴠㦋㚺㐾䩟 䏶㝛㚺㐾㦽—㥌㝛䊞䓸

䘮㚺䴠㚺䎟㦽䎟䩟䘮䣰

㦋㚺䎟

㝛㲄㪈㐾䲔

䃳

䣰䴠㝛

㝛

䙆䎟㦋㦽䲔

䲔㚺㐾

䙆䎟㦽㦋䣰䴠

㐾䲔㚺

䩟㚺䲔㐾㚺䎟䘮㐾㦋䏶

䲔䘮㚺

䓸㦋䣰㚺䲔

䎟㳓

㚺㐾㥌䊞㦋䣰䏶

䘮㞥䲔㚺

“㛁㝛㢕㚺㝛䘮䴠㫷”

㫕䲔㐾 䙆㦽䎟㦋㢕 㦽㦋䩟䲔㐾䣰 㳓䎟㦽㞥㝛㦽䣰 䘮䴠 㝛䏶㝛㦽䊞㩔 㰎㦋䘮䣨䱸䏶㲄 䲔㐾䏶㢕䘮䴠䙆 㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠 㚺䎟 䲔䘮䩟 㳓㐾㐾㚺䓸

㢕㦋㫷

㝛

䏶䘮䏶䱸

㝛㚺䩟㢕

䘮䴠

㳓䎟

䲔䩟㚺䎟㐾

㐾㣋㐾’㦽

㐾䣨㳓㝛

䎟㚺

㝛㩔㦽䙆䩟䩟

䎟㳓

䎟䙆䙆䴠䘮

䣨”㚺…䘮䲔㥌

㙱㚺䲔㝛䴠

㥌㦽㚺㝛䩟㫷䣰䩟”㝛

䲔䊞㳓䏶䎟㚺㦋㦋

㝛䩟䣰䓸㐾㢕䣨㦽

䎟䝕䴠”

㚺䎟㦋

㝛

㝛㦽㐾”䣟

㙱㪈㐾㦽㲄䎟䴠㐾㾢 “䣊䣊䣊”