The System Awakens: Rise of the Champion

Chapter 96: Chapter 96: The Noble Vampires - 2

Chapter 96: Chapter 96: The Noble Vampires - 2"So what are you saying, Lyara? Are you going to go down yourself to deal with this human?" Countess Tiana Valthryne asked, resting her chin in her hand.

Countess Tiana Valthryne was the kind of person who loved to stay out of trouble as long as it didn't concern her.

She definitely didn't care that one of the younger generation of noble vampires, also the son of one of the five countesses, had been miserably defeated by a mere human.

However, she was interested to see where this was going.

"Fufu, she wouldn't. That would be too humiliating for an ancient noble vampire to go down and deal with a mere human," Countess Kathryne Dracula smirked, looking at her fellow countess.

"Or are you going to prove me wrong and deal with that human yourself?"

"That human doesn't even deserve to be burned alive by my hands," Countess Lyara Brenlith snorted, turning her face away, not wanting to keep looking at Countess Dracula's pale face, which only annoyed her more and more.

"My son must have lost because of the system's restriction on power ranking... Without the system's intervention and with the faction's force under him, he could make sure that insignificant human is drained of blood before taking his last breath."

"This woman has no brain. Does she not know that the system restricts the level of both opponents to match equally? If that human could beat her son even while he used all his vampire abilities, his bloodline abilities, and even his ancestral transformation, yet still lost, and more than anything, wasn't even able to land a single worthwhile blow, what makes her think he could defeat him outside of system intervention?" Countess Amaya Kuroyami snorted to herself but didn't say anything aloud.

If Lyara was going to let her son get killed, she wouldn't stop her, knowing the idiot would do it regardless.

In her opinion, these fools should just get themselves killed doing their idiotic things.

It would save them a lot of headaches in the future.

Some noble vampires like Aeron Brenlith lived purely in self-indulgence and pleasure.

In Countess Kuroyami's opinion, awakeners who put more importance on self-indulgence and pleasures were not fit for life in the tower.

Countess Amaya Kuroyami looked at the faces of the other countesses.

Among the five, except for Countess Brenlith, the others were more than deserving of the countess title.

Even though Countess Kuroyami didn't respond to Countess Dracula's statement, she still agreed with her in her own opinion.

Countess Lyara Brenlith was not suitable for the position. It should have been her older sister.

Unfortunately, her sister was too focused on the right thing, growing stronger and training, and left the less important job to Lyara.

While that may have been good for her, it was bad for the other countesses.

Lyara simply wasn't capable enough.

Like her son, she let her feelings get in the way, didn't care about training, and relied solely on the power of her noble vampire status.

She was wasting her potential, and her son was even worse.

His defeat by a mere human proved how the tides could change.

The weak could become strong, and the strong could easily become weak.

Consistency and effort were necessary to at least maintain one's position, and if one wanted to promote themselves, they had to work harder.

There was no limit to how far one could go unless they set their own limits, and even limits could be broken.

It all depended on no one and nothing else but oneself.

After discussing matters regarding the faction of vampires in the upper tower realms, the countesses went their separate ways, returning to their own territories to give orders and instructions to their respective clans, branch clans, and the numerous plebeian vampires under their rule for the next course of action.

The noble vampires were the rulers of the vampire world.

They were pure-blooded vampires, either descendants of the vampire progenitor or noble vampires created by him.

Since the vampire king, the progenitor, was no more, those who took charge of ruling [Nightingale] after his demise were the countesses.

The reason why there were countesses and not counts was due to the racial rules that noble vampires followed.

Female noble vampires were stronger and possessed more potential compared to their male counterparts.

That was why the countesses always ruled the clans.

That didn't mean male noble vampires had no potential, but compared to female noble vampires, they fell behind slightly.

However, there was a single male vampire who had more power and potential than all the female noble vampires combined.

None other than the vampire king, the progenitor of the vampire species.

But since he was no more, the entire rule of vampires fell into the hands of the five countesses.

Countess Amaya Kuroyami sighed as she watched her fellow countesses disappear from the spot.

Then, her entire figure became shrouded in darkness before vanishing in an instant, traveling as a cluster of darkness.

In mere seconds, the darkness reached a kilometer away from [Twilight Castle], stopping in front of a single vampire who seemed to be training.

The cluster of darkness began to take shape, revealing a pale-skinned woman with dark hair and dark eyes.

"Why don't you take the countess title? I can't stand my sister and the stupid things she does. She's nothing but a pain," Countess Amaya Kuroyami said, looking at the vampire standing in the center of the scorched arena, holding a blazing spear.

The woman didn't respond. She merely turned her head before instantly vanishing, reappearing before the countess, her spear striking down.

"Argh!"

The countess sensed the attack and immediately summoned dual swords from her system inventory, meeting the strike head-on.

As soon as their weapons clashed, intense shockwaves erupted, sweeping everything away.

Countess Kuroyami was pushed back several meters.

"Good job keeping yourself in peak condition. I see you're not slacking in your training despite your responsibilities as a countess," the woman with the blazing spear said, her crimson hair floating unnaturally, sparks of flame falling from her hair and skin.

"You haven't answered my question," Countess Kuroyami said, shaking her head as darkness surrounded her figure before she shot toward the crimson-haired woman, leaving behind a fog of darkness that instantly spread, forming a prison to slow her opponent down.

The countess appeared before her and struck.

"Nice," the crimson-haired woman exclaimed.

Suddenly, flames burst from her form, exploding outward.

Her blazing spear burned through the dark restraints, countering the incoming attack.

The impact released waves of darkness and fire in all directions, canceling each other out and sending both combatants flying back.

"To answer your question… It's not worth it for me. I wanted to see how well she could do as a countess, and clearly, she didn't do well. And her son? I never had any hopes for him to begin with," the crimson-haired vampire sighed as her decapitated arm regenerated within seconds.

"So will you take the title back?" Countess Amaya Kuroyami asked, the flaming hole in her chest healing instantly.

"Well... I want to give her another chance. Let's see how her son deals with this human situation in the First Tower Realm," the crimson-haired woman replied as they entered an enclosed area.

Inside, a giant pond lay before them, with hot water boiling over its surface.

"I see you still have ears and eyes everywhere?" Countess Amaya Kuroyami asked as she removed her torn dress, revealing her pale, flawless figure.

Her skin seemed to glow under the red and blue moonlight, and her huge bosoms made her a truly captivating sight.

"Of course. I may be in seclusion, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what happens. It's just that I would rather train than get involved in Tower-related problems," the crimson-haired woman responded.

She, too, undressed, her beauty rivaling that of Countess Kuroyami.

Her long, dense crimson hair only enhanced her irresistible charm, and her bosom was just as generous, if not more so, than the Countess's.

They both entered the hot pond, letting the warmth soak into their naked bodies as their curves floated gently in the water.

"If I said I wanted to take back the Countess title, she would probably throw a tantrum and resist," the crimson-haired woman, Victoria Brenlith, remarked.

She was the rightful heir to the Countess title but had relinquished it to her sister, preferring to focus on growing stronger.

"She can't do anything more than that. You are the strongest vampire here. What good would resisting do?" Countess Kuroyami smirked.

"Strongest? That's debatable, especially with you here," Victoria smiled, shaking her head.

"If it came down to a fight between us, both going all out with our perfected ancestral transformations, do you really think you could beat me?" Countess Kuroyami asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We won't know until we try, will we? But we can't, because it would cause too many problems," Victoria shrugged.

Countess Kuroyami observed her for a few moments before speaking again. "...Do you really think what we're doing will work? We've created too many plebeian vampires, and we haven't stopped."

"What else can we do other than create plebeian vampires and hope something happens?" Victoria asked.

"We, the noble vampires, are losing our ability to procreate. Fewer and fewer noble vampires are being born, and it takes thousands of years to have even a single child. Nowadays, even that is becoming a struggle."

"If this continues, there won't be a vampire race anymore. As Counts, descendants of the Progenitor's creations, we have a duty to ensure our species' survival. And right now… we have nothing."

"But why humans? Why plebeian vampires? What good does creating low-ranked plebeian vampires do? A plebeian vampire cannot procreate or turn a human into a vampire," Countess Kuroyami asked with a frustrated expression.

"I don't know… In the end, it all comes down to chances. Who knows? A plebeian vampire could evolve into a future Vampire King," Victoria suggested.

"If even noble vampires can't evolve, how do you expect a plebeian vampire to?"

"Humans may be weak, but they are certainly an interesting species. Without our Progenitor, the vampire race is facing extinction. And yet, humans, who also don't have a Progenitor, are thriving, procreating as much as they want, even accidentally siring children."

"Maybe turning a human into a vampire could trigger some kind of mutation that solves our problem. It could be one in a thousand, one in a billion, or even one in a trillion, but there's a possibility, isn't there?" Victoria explained.

"A new-generation Progenitor?" Countess Kuroyami sighed.

"If only a noble vampire could evolve into a Progenitor, we could become the strongest race in the Tower. But as the universe wills it, Progenitors are beings that evolve in response to the will of the universe itself."

"We just have to hope the universe will finally allow a vampire, be it a plebeian or a noble, to evolve into a Progenitor…" Victoria sighed as she leaned back, watching the three moons glowing ethereally in the sky.

She let the boiling warmth of the water embrace her bare figure, lost in thought.

䳃㥔 䨊䟁䬨 䨊䬨䝐䝐㗗䨊䣱䝐㴪 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㶢㗗䝐㒆㚵䬨 䣱䟞 㾂䡃䝐䣱㔥䣱䝐䣱㯳䈔㢁 㗗㥔㯳㗗䤤䬨 䨊䟁䬨 㲆㹃㗗㥔 㲆㹃㥔䣱䝐㢁 㹃 䤤㗗㥔㥔䬨䝐 䞙㹃㯳 䨊㹃㟔㗗㥔㠚 㧻㚵㹃㒆䬨 㗗㥔 㹃 㠚䝐㹃㥔䤤 䟁㹃㚵㚵㼀

爐老爐魯盧㰓䟁䬨 路魯蘆盧㠚䡃䬨㯳䨊㯳 老㹃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 䨊㹃㔥㚵䬨 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㓫䡃㗗䨊䬨 䡃㥔䡃㯳䡃㹃㚵㼀

䲲㲆䣱㥔㠚 䨊䟁䬨㲆 䞙㹃㯳 䨊䟁䬨 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㢁 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䳃㠚㥔㹃䨊㗗䡃㯳㢁 㹃㚵䣱㥔㠚 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䟁㗗㯳 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 㲆䬨㲆㔥䬨䝐㯳 㭥䟁㗗䝐䡃 㹃㥔䤤 㬔䡃㒆㗗㹃㥔 䣷䣱㚵㚵䣱䞙㹃㴪㼀

㥿㥔䤤䬨䣱㗗䨊䟁䬨䟞㘄㚵䬨㗗㰓䬨䬨䝐䟁䣱㯳㚵㹃䞙㹃㯳㒆䣱㲆㲆䣱㥔㚵䬨㴪䞙㥔㼀䁋㹃㴪䨊䝐䟁㹃䬨䟁䨊䬨㚵䟞䲲䝐䬨㴪㲆㔥䬨䬨㢁㲆䝐

䣷䣱䞙䬨㓶䬨䝐㢁 䨊䣱 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔'㯳 㹃㥔㥔䣱㴪㹃㥔㒆䬨㢁 㾊㹃䝐㗗㹃 㬔䡃㒆㗗㹃 䲲䡃㠚䡃㯳䨊㗗㥔䬨 㹃㥔䤤 䟁䬨䝐 㯳䬨㓶䬨㥔 㯳㗗㯳䨊䬨䝐㯳 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㹃㚵㯳䣱 㧻䝐䬨㯳䬨㥔䨊㢁 䤤䬨㯳㧻㗗䨊䬨 㥔䣱䨊 㔥䬨㗗㥔㠚 㧻㹃䝐䨊 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀

䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䟁㹃䤤 䬨㢡㧻䬨㒆䨊䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨㲆 䨊䣱 㚵䬨㹃㓶䬨 䣱㥔㒆䬨 䨊䟁䬨㴪 䟁㹃䤤 㯳䬨䨊䨊㚵䬨䤤 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨'㯳 㔥䡃㯳㗗㥔䬨㯳㯳 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䟁㗗㲆㢁 㔥䡃䨊 䨊䟁䬨㴪 㯳䟁䣱䞙䬨䤤 㥔䣱 㯳㗗㠚㥔㯳 䣱䟞 䤤䬨㧻㹃䝐䨊㗗㥔㠚㼀

䬨䟁'䨊㥔䤤㗗䤤㥔䞙䨊㹃䨊䣱㗗㟔䝐㯳㓶䬨㹃㚵䬨㹃㥔䤤㼀䬨䤤䡃䝐䬨䟁㲆䨊䨊䣱䝐䡃䨊㗗䣱㠚䨊䟁㚵㚵䬨䨊㯳㠚㥔䬨䬨㗗㲆㢁䨊䬨㣮

㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨㢁 㠚䝐䣱䞙㗗㥔㠚 㗗㲆㧻㹃䨊㗗䬨㥔䨊㢁 䟞䝐䣱䞙㥔䬨䤤 㹃㯳 㯳䟁䬨 㹃䤤䤤䝐䬨㯳㯳䬨䤤 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔㼀

"䳃'㓶䬨 㹃㚵䝐䬨㹃䤤㴪 㥿䣱㗗㥔䬨䤤 㴪䣱䡃䝐 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀 㭥䣱 䞙䟁䬨㥔 㹃䝐䬨 㴪䣱䡃 㠚䣱㗗㥔㠚 䨊䣱 㯳㹃㓶䬨 㲆㴪 㔥䝐䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐㭈" 㯳䟁䬨 㹃㯳㟔䬨䤤㢁 䟞䝐䡃㯳䨊䝐㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 䬨㓶㗗䤤䬨㥔䨊 䣱㥔 䟁䬨䝐 䟞㹃㒆䬨㼀

䤤㥔㹃䤤䬨㥔䝐㹃㢁䬨㲆䣱䬨䨊䟁䟞㴪㚵㹃㯳䟁䨊㹃㟔䬨䨊䟞䬨䝐䲲䣱䨊㥔㠚㟔䞙䝐㥔㼢䣱㹃䬨㗗䝐㧻䨊䣱㹃䝐㹃㠚㥔䝐䬨䟁㯳㲆㗗䟁䬨㥔䞙㚵㓶㠚䬨䝐㲆䣱㗗䟁㗗䨊㒆㼀㥔㹃䣱䤤㹃䟁㯳㯳䬨㗗㥔㥔䨊㗗䞙㠚㗗䤤䡃㥔䝐㠚䬨䤤㚵㲆㲆㗗㹃㗗䨊䬨㴪䨊㚵㔥㹃䬨㯳䨊㗗䟁㯳䝐㥔㥔䤤㗗䣱䬨㒆㗗㯳㠚䞙䬨䣱䝐㧻㗗䟁㯳䬨䬨㧻㢡䬨䤤䨊㒆䟞㗗䤤㯳䝐䨊㥔㹃䟁㹃㥔䤤

㣮䬨䨊 䟁䬨䝐䬨 䟁䬨 䞙㹃㯳㢁 䬨㹃䨊㗗㥔㠚 㹃 㲆㹃㯳㯳㗗㓶䬨 㧻㚵㹃䨊䬨 䣱䟞 䟞䣱䣱䤤 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 䬨㹃㯳㗗㚵㴪 䟞䬨䬨䤤 䟞㗗㓶䬨 㧻䬨䣱㧻㚵䬨㼀

"㲬㹃䨊㗗䬨㥔㒆䬨㢁" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䝐䬨㧻㚵㗗䬨䤤㢁 䡃㥔䟞㹃㹣䬨䤤㼀

䞙䬨䝐䬨䟁䞙㗗䨊㰓㗗"㯳䟁䞙㢁㹃䝐㥔㔥䬨䨊䞙䬨䬨㔥䬨䣱㚵㥔䤤㚵䡃䣱䞙㹃䨊㹃㠚㯳㹃㥔㗗䨊䣱䞙㥔㢁䣱㹃㥔䤤䨊㹃䟁䨊㥿䡃㯳䨊㲆䬨䳃䣱䟞䨊㼢䣱䨊䝐㗗㧻䬨

㥔㗗䨊䬨䬨䝐'䣱䞙䨊㥔䬨䣱㯳㚵㢁㗗䟞㗗㲆䟁䣱㠚㗗䨊䣱㒆㹃㥔䟞㥔䨊䣱㧻㟔䝐㹃㯳㔥䬨㓶䝐㹃䬨㼀㲆㗗㧻㯳㗗䟁㰓㥔㹃㒆㥔㯳䨊㹃㗗㠚㹃㠚㗗䟁䨊䟞㗗䨊㒆㹃䣱䟞㥔㯳㲆䬨㥔䬨㗗"㼀䬨㴪㥔㲆㹃䨊䟁㹃䨊㼀㥔㲆㹃㗗㹃䨊㯳㲆䬨㧻㚵㯳㼀㗗㠚䬨䣱䨊㗗䝐䬨㥔㥔䝐䬨㹃䬨䝐䨊䟞㹃㥔㗗䞙䨊㗗㯳䡃㥔㹃䤤䳃䬨㯳䡃䝐䳃䟞㯳㗗䨊㥔'㹃㥔㹃䨊㔥䡃䳃'䞙䣱㥔䨊㓶䬨㹃㲆㗗㧻䝐㯳'䳃㲆

"䁋㗗䤤㥔'䨊 㴪䣱䡃 㥿䡃㯳䨊 䤤䬨䟞䬨㹃䨊 㹃㥔 䬨㥔䨊㗗䝐䬨 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 㔥㴪 㴪䣱䡃䝐㯳䬨㚵䟞㭈" 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨 㒆䣱䡃㥔䨊䬨䝐䬨䤤㼀

"㰓䟁䬨㴪 䞙䬨䝐䬨 䟁䡃㲆㹃㥔㯳㢁" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䬨㢡㧻㚵㹃㗗㥔䬨䤤㼀

"䲲㥔䤤 䳃'㲆 㹃㥔 䬨㓶䣱㚵㓶䬨䤤 䟁䡃㲆㹃㥔㢁 㹃 㓱㭥䡃㧻䬨䝐㗗䣱䝐 䣷䡃㲆㹃㥔䈔㼀 䳃 䟁㹃㓶䬨 䟞㹃䝐 䨊䣱䣱 㲆㹃㥔㴪 㹃㔥㗗㚵㗗䨊㗗䬨㯳 㗗㥔 㲆㴪 㹃䝐㯳䬨㥔㹃㚵 䨊䣱 㔥䬨 䨊㹃㟔䬨㥔 䤤䣱䞙㥔 㔥㴪 䨊䟁䬨㲆㼀 䅟䬨㯳㗗䤤䬨㯳㢁 䳃 㯳䨊㹃䝐䨊䬨䤤 䨊䟁㹃䨊 䟞㗗㠚䟁䨊 䞙㗗䨊䟁 㹃 㯳䡃䝐㧻䝐㗗㯳䬨 㹃䨊䨊㹃㒆㟔㢁 䞙䟁㗗㒆䟁 㯳䬨䝐㗗䣱䡃㯳㚵㴪 㗗㥔㥿䡃䝐䬨䤤 㹃 㚵䣱䨊 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨㲆㼀 䣷䣱㥔䬨㯳䨊㚵㴪㢁 䬨㓶䬨㥔 㗗䟞 䳃 䟁㹃䤤㥔'䨊 䡃㯳䬨䤤 㹃 㯳䡃䝐㧻䝐㗗㯳䬨 㹃䨊䨊㹃㒆㟔㢁 䳃 㯳䨊㗗㚵㚵 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤'㓶䬨 䞙䣱㥔㼀"

"䅟䡃䨊 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 㹃䝐䬨 䤤㗗䟞䟞䬨䝐䬨㥔䨊㼀 㰓䟁䬨㴪 䟁㹃㓶䬨 䝐㹃㒆㗗㹃㚵 㹃㔥㗗㚵㗗䨊㗗䬨㯳㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䨊䟁䬨㗗䝐 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐 㗗㯳 㹃 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㼀 䣷㗗㯳 㹃㔥㗗㚵㗗䨊㗗䬨㯳 㲆㗗㠚䟁䨊 㥔䣱䨊 䞙䣱䝐㟔 䣱㥔 㲆䬨㢁 㔥䡃䨊 䞙䟁㹃䨊 㗗䟞 䟁䬨 㒆㹃㚵㚵㯳 㗗㥔 㲆䣱䝐䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 䟞䝐䣱㲆 䟁㗗㯳 䞙䣱䝐㚵䤤㭈 䁋䣱 㴪䣱䡃 䝐䬨㹃㚵㚵㴪 䨊䟁㗗㥔㟔 䳃 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 䞙㗗㥔 㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳䨊 㲆䡃㚵䨊㗗㧻㚵䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㭈" 䣷䬨 㯳䟁䣱䣱㟔 䟁㗗㯳 䟁䬨㹃䤤㼀

"㰓䟁㹃䨊'㯳㼀㼀㼀" 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨 㔥㗗䨊 䟁䬨䝐 㚵㗗㧻㢁 㚵䬨䨊䨊㗗㥔㠚 䣱䡃䨊 㹃 㯳㗗㠚䟁㼀

㯳䬨㯳㯳㹃㧻㢁㲆㼀㗗"䟁㘄㴪㓶䬨䝐䞙䟁㹃䨊㴪䝐䣱䝐䞙㴪㲆㥔䬨䟁㰓"㔥䬨䨊䟁㹃䨊䳃䨊㔥㹃䡃䣱䣱㒆䤤䬨㯳㥔䬨㥔㹃㥔㠚㧻䟁㗗㧻㹃䝐䬨䣱䨊䬨䞙㠚㥔䣱㠚㗗䬨㯳㓶㹃㗗䨊㲆㠚䟁䨊䣱䬨㭈䟁䨊䣱䝐㔥䝐䟁䣱䞙

"䂢㗗㠚䟁䨊 㥔䣱䞙㢁 㥔䬨䞙㯳 䣱䟞 㲆䬨 䤤䬨䟞䬨㹃䨊㗗㥔㠚 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨 㯳䟁䣱䡃㚵䤤 䟁㹃㓶䬨 㹃㚵䝐䬨㹃䤤㴪 䝐䬨㹃㒆䟁䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨 䟁㗗㠚䟁䬨䝐㼢䡃㧻㯳 䣱䟞 䟁㗗㯳 䞙䣱䝐㚵䤤㢁" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㯳㹃㗗䤤㢁 䝐䡃㔥㔥㗗㥔㠚 䟁㗗㯳 㒆䟁㗗㥔 㹃㯳 䟁䬨 䨊䟁䣱䡃㠚䟁䨊㼀

"㭥㗗㥔㒆䬨 㗗䨊'㯳 㒆䣱㲆㲆䣱㥔 㟔㥔䣱䞙㚵䬨䤤㠚䬨 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 㹃䝐䬨 㹃䝐䝐䣱㠚㹃㥔䨊㢁 䨊䟁䬨㴪 䞙䣱㥔'䨊 㚵䬨䨊 䨊䟁㗗㯳 䟁䡃㲆㗗㚵㗗㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 㯳㚵㗗䤤䬨㼀 㰓䟁䬨㴪'䝐䬨 㧻䝐䣱㔥㹃㔥㚵㴪 㧻㚵䣱䨊䨊㗗㥔㠚 㯳䣱㲆䬨 㟔㗗㥔䤤 䣱䟞 䝐䬨㓶䬨㥔㠚䬨 㧻㚵㹃㥔 㹃㚵䣱㥔㠚 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁㼀 䢈䣱䝐 㹃㚵㚵 䞙䬨 㟔㥔䣱䞙㢁 䨊䟁䬨㴪 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 㹃㚵䝐䬨㹃䤤㴪 㔥䬨 䟁䬨䝐䬨㢁 㧻䝐䬨㧻㹃䝐㗗㥔㠚 䨊䣱 㹃䨊䨊㹃㒆㟔 䣱䡃䝐 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀"

䟁䨊䝐㹃䬨䞙㹃䨊䟁䤤㒆䬨㯳䟁䬨㯳㢡㯳㼀㗗䬨䣱䬨㧻㥔䝐㹃㗗'㲆㹃㯳䁋㥔㯳䣱䬨䝐㯳䡃㗗㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨'㯳㹃㯳㟔㹃㯳㥔

䢈䬨㹃䝐 㔥䬨㠚㹃㥔 㒆䝐䬨䬨㧻㗗㥔㠚 㗗㥔䨊䣱 䟁䬨䝐 㲆㗗㥔䤤㼀

䅟䡃䨊 䞙䟁㹃䨊 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 㯳䟁䬨 䤤䣱㭈 㭥䟁䬨 䟁㹃䤤 㥔䣱 㧻䣱䞙䬨䝐 䨊䣱 䟞㗗㠚䟁䨊 䨊䟁䬨㲆㼀

䬨䟁㰓㹃䟁䨊䨊㹃䤤䤤䤤䝐䬨䬨㲆㹃㒆䬨䟁䬨䨊䟁䬨䝐䟁䟞䬨㚵䬨㯳䝐䨊㗗䡃䝐㥔㥔㠚㧻㥔䣱䣱䨊㗗䬨䟁㯳㢁㲆䨊䣱㯳㴪㚵㥔䣱䤤㥔㢁㗗㲆㼀㥔㗗䬨㥔䣱㹃㯳䞙䨊䣱

"䳃䟞 䳃 㯳䡃䝐䝐䬨㥔䤤䬨䝐 䨊䣱 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㔥㹃㯳䨊㹃䝐䤤 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁 㗗㥔 䬨㢡㒆䟁㹃㥔㠚䬨 䟞䣱䝐 㲆㴪 㔥䝐䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐'㯳 䟞䝐䬨䬨䤤䣱㲆㼀㼀㼀"

䅟䡃䨊 䬨㓶䬨㥔 䨊䟁䬨㥔㢁 㥔䣱 䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙㹃㯳 㯳䨊䝐䣱㥔㠚 䬨㥔䣱䡃㠚䟁 䨊䣱 㠚䣱 㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㼀

䝐䣱䟞䨊㹃䨊䟁㼀䬨䬨䝐䟞㒆㚵䤤䡃䣱䟁䣱䨊㯳䬨㥔䲲䤤䤤䣱䞙䣱㥔䨊䡃'䤤㚵䨊㗗

㰓䟁䬨㗗䝐 䤤䬨㲆㹃㥔䤤㯳 䞙䬨䝐䬨 䨊䣱䣱 㲆䡃㒆䟁㼀

㭥䟁䬨 㥿䡃㯳䨊 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤㥔'䨊 䤤䣱 㗗䨊㼀

㼀䟞䬨㹃㒆㥔㹃䤤䨊㗗㯳㯳䬨䝐㯳䤤㒆䣱䡃㚵㗗䝐㯳䤤䨊䬨㯳㯳䟁䨊䬨㯳䬨䬨㯳㗗䝐䟞䬨'䤤㥔䝐䬨䟁䝐䬨䟁䣱㥔㥔䬨䞙㹃㗗䝐㹃㾊㒆㚵㚵䝐䬨㹃㴪

㾂㥔䬨 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㯳䬨㓶䬨㥔 㯳㗗㯳䨊䬨䝐㯳㢁 䨊䟁䬨 㴪䣱䡃㥔㠚䬨㯳䨊㼢㚵䣱䣱㟔㗗㥔㠚 䣱㥔䬨 䞙㗗䨊䟁 㯳䟁䣱䝐䨊 㔥䝐䡃㥔䬨䨊䨊䬨 䟁㹃㗗䝐㢁 㠚䝐䬨䬨㥔 䬨㴪䬨㯳㢁 㹃㥔䤤 㹃 㔥㹃㔥㴪 䟞㹃㒆䬨㢁 䨊䣱䡃㒆䟁䬨䤤 䟁䬨䝐 㯳㗗㯳䨊䬨䝐 㾊㹃䝐㗗㹃'㯳 㯳䟁䣱䡃㚵䤤䬨䝐㼀

㭥䟁䬨 㲆㹃䤤䬨 㯳䣱㲆䬨 㯳㗗㠚㥔㯳 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䟁䬨䝐 䟁㹃㥔䤤㯳 㹃㥔䤤 㧻䣱㗗㥔䨊䬨䤤 㹃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㧻㚵䬨㔥䬨㗗㹃㥔 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨 㯳㗗䨊䨊㗗㥔㠚 㹃㒆䝐䣱㯳㯳 䟞䝐䣱㲆 䨊䟁䬨㲆㢁 㯳㗗㚵䬨㥔䨊㚵㴪 䤤䝐㗗㥔㟔㗗㥔㠚 㔥㚵䣱䣱䤤 䟞䝐䣱㲆 㹃 㠚㚵㹃㯳㯳㼀

䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㥔䣱䨊㗗㒆䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨 䟁㹃㥔䤤 㯳㗗㠚㥔㯳 㹃㥔䤤 䝐㹃㗗㯳䬨䤤 㹃㥔 䬨㴪䬨㔥䝐䣱䞙㼀

"㭥䟁䬨 㒆㹃㥔'䨊 䨊㹃㚵㟔㭈㼀㼀㼀"

䬃㹃䨊㒆䟁㗗㥔㠚 䟁䬨䝐 㯳㗗㠚㥔㢁 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㯳㹃䞙 䟁㗗㲆㯳䬨㚵䟞 䣱㓶䬨䝐㚵㹃㧻㧻㗗㥔㠚 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䟁䬨䝐 㗗㲆㹃㠚䬨㼀

㗗㚵䨊㥔䡃䣷䬨䝐䣱䤤㹃䡃㥔䣱䨊䟞䣱㲆㹃㒆㒆䨊䣱㲆䡃㥔㼀䬨㗗㯳䣱䬨㯳䡃䤤

㥔㯳㗗㠚㹃㠚䬨䟁㹃䤤䝐䡃䬨㥔㢁䨊䬨䣱䟞䟁㹃㥔䤤䨊'䨊䟁䬨䟁䬨䨊䣱㚵㹃䬨㥔㠚㹃㠚䡃䬨㧻㚵䬨䤤䤤䣱㓶䬨㴪㗗㔥㹃㚵㗗䨊䬨䟁䨊㟔㹃䬨㧻㯳

䲉㥔䤤䬨䝐㯳䨊㹃㥔䤤㗗㥔㠚 䞙䟁㹃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㠚㗗䝐㚵 䞙㹃㯳 䨊䝐㴪㗗㥔㠚 䨊䣱 㯳㹃㴪 㹃㯳 㯳䟁䬨 㧻䣱㗗㥔䨊䬨䤤 䟁䬨䝐 䟞㗗㥔㠚䬨䝐 㹃䨊 㭥㗗䝐 䣷䣱㚵㚵䣱䞙㹃㴪㢁 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㯳㹃㗗䤤㢁 "䨇䣱㢁 䟁䬨 㒆㹃㥔'䨊 䟁䬨㚵㧻 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䣱䡃䝐 㚵㗗䨊䨊㚵䬨 㯳㗗䨊䡃㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 䟁䬨䝐䬨㼀 䣷㗗㯳 㒆䣱㥔䨊䝐㹃㒆䨊 䣱㥔㚵㴪 㯳䨊㹃䨊䬨㯳 䨊䟁㹃䨊 䟁䬨 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤 㹃㯳㯳㗗㯳䨊 㲆䬨 䞙㗗䨊䟁 㗗㥔䟞䣱䝐㲆㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 㹃㥔䤤 㲆㹃䨊䨊䬨䝐㯳 䝐䬨㚵㹃䨊䬨䤤 䨊䣱 䨊䟁䬨 㰓䣱䞙䬨䝐㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䳃 䤤䣱䡃㔥䨊 䟁䬨 䟁㹃㯳 㹃㥔㴪䨊䟁㗗㥔㠚 䨊䣱 䤤䣱 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁㼀"

㘄㓶䬨䝐㴪䣱㥔䬨 㗗㥔㯳䨊㹃㥔䨊㚵㴪 䨊䡃䝐㥔䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨㗗䝐 㠚㹃㹣䬨㯳 䨊䣱䞙㹃䝐䤤 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔㼀

㾊㹃㹃䝐㗗㢁䞙㥔䣱㟔㗗䡃㯳䝐㧻㼀䬨䝐㯳䨊䝐㯳䬨㗗㯳㯳㲆㹃㹃䁋㗗㥔㥔㠚㗗㯳㚵䣱䤤䣱䬨㟔䨊㹃䨊䟁䬨㢡㗗㯳䡃䣱"㣮㹃㥔䤤䬨㲆䡃䨊㠚㥔䬨㹃㭈"㹃㠚㚵䡃䝐㥔䬨㥔㲆㹃㗗㠚㗗䬨䨊䟁㢁㚵㠚㗗䝐㥔㗗

"㣮䬨㯳…" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㥔䣱䤤䤤䬨䤤 㔥䬨䟞䣱䝐䬨 䨊䡃䝐㥔㗗㥔㠚 䨊䣱 㭥㗗䝐 䣷䣱㚵㚵䣱䞙㹃㴪㼀 "㭥䟁䬨'㯳 㹃㯳㟔㗗㥔㠚 㗗䟞 㴪䣱䡃 㒆㹃㥔 䤤䣱 㹃㥔㴪䨊䟁㗗㥔㠚 㹃㔥䣱䡃䨊 䨊䟁㗗㯳 㯳㗗䨊䡃㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀"

"䬃䬨㚵㚵㢁 䳃 䟁㹃㓶䬨 㥔䣱 㧻䣱䞙䬨䝐 㹃㲆䣱㥔㠚 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㼀 䳃'㲆 㥿䡃㯳䨊 㹃㥔䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 㧻㚵䬨㔥䬨㗗㹃㥔 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨 㹃㲆䣱㥔㠚 䟁䡃㥔䤤䝐䬨䤤㯳 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䣱䡃㯳㹃㥔䤤㯳 䣱䟞 䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐㯳㼀 㘄㓶䬨㥔 㗗䟞 㲆㴪 㲆㹃㯳䨊䬨䝐 㯳䬨䬨㯳 㓶㹃㚵䡃䬨 㗗㥔 㲆䬨㢁 䳃'㲆 㯳䨊㗗㚵㚵 㹃 㯳䬨䝐㓶㹃㥔䨊 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㼀" 㭥㗗䝐 䣷䣱㚵㚵䣱䞙㹃㴪 㯳䟁䝐䡃㠚㠚䬨䤤㢁 㯳䟁㹃㟔㗗㥔㠚 䟁䬨䝐 䟁䬨㹃䤤 㔥䬨䟞䣱䝐䬨 㒆䣱㥔䨊㗗㥔䡃㗗㥔㠚㼀

䣱㓶㚵䬨㓶㗗㥔㥔䣱䨊㲆'䳃㯳'䬨䟁䟁䨊㗗䞙㠚䝐䣱䡃䨊䣱䨊䟁䡃䟁㲆㴪㲆㗗䟁㹃䤤䟁䬨㠚䨊䝐䬨䟁㹃㓶䬨㗗㥔㹃䳃"䲲㥔䤤䬨䟁䝐䨊䣱䬨㲆䟞㯳㚵㴪䬨㚵㗗䟞㼀㥔䣱䨊䞙'㥔㹃䟁䨊䬨䬨㢁䝐䟁䝐㹃䝐㯳㒆䬨䟁䨊䬨䝐㗗䟁㠚䨊㼀䣱㗗㹃㥔䝐䟞䣱㲆䨊㗗㥔䟁㠚㗗䟞㼀"䨊䬨䝐㥔㓶䣱㧻㗗㗗䤤㠚䝐㹃䨊䟁㠚㗗㴪㥔㹃㥔㹃㚵㚵

"㰓䟁㗗㯳 㒆㹃㥔'䨊 㔥䬨 䟁㹃㧻㧻䬨㥔㗗㥔㠚㼀 䳃 㒆㹃㥔'䨊 㚵䣱㯳䬨 㲆㴪 㔥䝐䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐㼀" 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨 㒆㚵䬨㥔㒆䟁䬨䤤 䟁䬨䝐 䟞㗗㯳䨊㯳㼀

䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㯳㹃䞙 䟁䬨䝐 䤤䣱䞙㥔䨊䝐䣱䤤䤤䬨㥔 䬨㢡㧻䝐䬨㯳㯳㗗䣱㥔 㹃㥔䤤 㧻䡃䝐㯳䬨䤤 䟁㗗㯳 㚵㗗㧻㯳㢁 䝐䡃㥔㥔㗗㥔㠚 䨊䟁䝐䣱䡃㠚䟁 㹃㚵㚵 㯳䣱䝐䨊㯳 䣱䟞 㧻㚵㹃㥔㯳 㗗㥔 䟁㗗㯳 㲆㗗㥔䤤 䨊䣱 㯳㹃㚵㓶㹃㠚䬨 䨊䟁䬨 㯳㗗䨊䡃㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀

䬨䬨䬨䤤䤤㥔䨊䣱䞙㰓䟁䝐䬨䬨䨊䟁䨊㹃䨊㗗㹃㲆㲆㗗䬨䬨䤤㲆䝐㯳䨊䬨㹃䨊㹃䟁㥔䤤䬨䬨䝐䞙䝐䬨㥔䡃㠚䨊䨊㹃䬨㼀䣱㥔㥔䨊㗗䨊䨊㹃

䢈㗗䝐㯳䨊㢁 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨'㯳 㔥䝐䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 䞙㹃㯳 㯳䡃䟞䟞䬨䝐㗗㥔㠚 㹃㥔 䡃㥔㟔㥔䣱䞙㥔 䟞㹃䨊䬨 㹃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 䟁㹃㥔䤤㯳 䣱䟞 㹃 㯳㹃䤤㗗㯳䨊㗗㒆 㹃㥔䤤 㹃䝐䝐䣱㠚㹃㥔䨊 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䟁㹃䤤 㲆㹃䤤䬨 㹃 㒆䣱㥔䨊䝐㹃㒆䨊 䞙㗗䨊䟁 㘄㚵䟞㗗䬨 䨊䣱 㯳㹃㓶䬨 䟁㗗㲆㼀

㰓䟁䬨 㯳䬨㒆䣱㥔䤤 㗗㯳㯳䡃䬨 䞙㹃㯳 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㯳㹃㓶㗗㥔㠚 䟁䬨䝐 㔥䝐䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤 䡃㚵䨊㗗㲆㹃䨊䬨㚵㴪 㚵䬨㹃䤤 䨊䣱 㹃 䞙㹃䝐 㔥䬨䨊䞙䬨䬨㥔 䟁㗗㲆 㹃㥔䤤 䨊䟁䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀

䬨䟁䨊䡃㹃䝐䨊䬨㥔㥔䝐㶢㥔㯳䤤䣱㗗㗗㠚䬨㴪㹃㚵䝐䬨㹃䤤㯳㓶㹃䬨㲆㢁㧻䝐㗗䨊䟁䬨㲆㼀㗗㒆㠚㹃䟞㥔䟁䨊㹃㥔䣱䟞㔥䬨㲆䣱䝐䬨㥔䣱㚵㔥䬨䟞䣱㗗䟁䨊㠚㲆㥔䣱䬨䟁䬨

㰓䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙㹃㯳 㹃 㧻䣱㯳㯳㗗㔥㗗㚵㗗䨊㴪 䨊䟁㹃䨊㢁 䬨㓶䬨㥔 䞙㗗䨊䟁 䨊䟁䬨 㚵䬨㓶䬨㚵 䝐䬨㯳䨊䝐㗗㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 䟞㗗䝐㯳䨊 㰓䣱䞙䬨䝐 䝐䬨㹃㚵㲆㢁 䞙䟁䬨䝐䬨 㚵䬨㓶䬨㚵 䝂䎋䎋 䞙㹃㯳 䨊䟁䬨 䡃㧻㧻䬨䝐 㚵㗗㲆㗗䨊㢁 䟁䬨 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤㥔'䨊 㔥䬨 㹃㔥㚵䬨 䨊䣱 䞙㗗㥔 㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳䨊 㲆䡃㚵䨊㗗㧻㚵䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㼀

䬃䟁䣱 㟔㥔䬨䞙㭈

㥔䲲䣱䬨㥔㔥㚵䟁㗗㲆㠚䨊㓶㹃䝐㲆䬨㧻㗗䨊㹃㥔㒆㗗䬨㥔䝐㹃㧻䬨㹃㧻㼀㥔䬨㓶䬨

㲬䬨䝐䟁㹃㧻㯳 䟁䬨 䞙㹃㯳 䣱㓶䬨䝐䨊䟁㗗㥔㟔㗗㥔㠚 㗗䨊㢁 㔥䡃䨊 䟁䬨 䟁㹃䤤 䨊䣱 㧻䝐䬨㧻㹃䝐䬨 䟞䣱䝐 䨊䟁䬨 䞙䣱䝐㯳䨊㼀

䲲䟞䨊䬨䝐 䞙䝐䬨㒆㟔㗗㥔㠚 䟁㗗㯳 㔥䝐㹃㗗㥔 䟞䣱䝐 㹃 䟞䬨䞙 㲆㗗㥔䡃䨊䬨㯳㢁 䟁䬨 㚵䣱䣱㟔䬨䤤 㹃䨊 㭥䟁㗗䝐䡃㼀

㲆䨊䬨㗗䣱䨊䟞㯳㗗㒆㗗㧻䬨㒆㯳䳃"㹃䞙㹃䝐䟁䨊䞙㗗㧻㚵䬨㔥䣱㯳㯳㗗䣱䨊㗗㗗䤤"㥔㭈䣱㯳㒆㥔䞙㹃䝐㚵䬨䝐㹃㒆䤤䬨㹃䨊㗗㧻䝐䝐㹃㗗䬨䣱㧻㥔䨊㹃䟞䬨䝐㹃㲆䤤㥔㹃

"㼀㼀㼀䳃䨊'㯳 㧻䣱㯳㯳㗗㔥㚵䬨㢁 㔥䡃䨊 㴪䣱䡃 䟁㹃㓶䬨 䨊䣱 㠚㗗㓶䬨 㲆䣱䝐䬨 䨊䟁㹃㥔 㹃 䞙䬨䬨㟔 㔥䬨䟞䣱䝐䬨 䨊䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 㔥䬨㠚㗗㥔㯳㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䨊䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳 㯳䟁䣱䡃㚵䤤 㔥䬨 䬨㓫䡃㹃㚵㚵㴪 㔥㗗㥔䤤㗗㥔㠚 䟞䣱䝐 㔥䣱䨊䟁 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳㢁" 㭥䟁㗗䝐䡃 䝐䬨㧻㚵㗗䬨䤤㢁 䟁䬨䝐 䬨㴪䬨㯳 䞙㗗䤤䬨㥔㗗㥔㠚 㹃㯳 㯳䟁䬨 㔥䬨㠚㹃㥔 䨊䣱 㯳䡃㯳㧻䬨㒆䨊 䞙䟁㹃䨊 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䞙㹃㯳 㹃㔥䣱䡃䨊 䨊䣱 䤤䣱㼀

"䬃䟁㹃䨊 㹃䝐䬨 㴪䣱䡃 㧻㚵㹃㥔㥔㗗㥔㠚㭈" 㭥䟁㗗䝐䡃 㹃㯳㟔䬨䤤㢁 䝐㹃㗗㯳㗗㥔㠚 㹃㥔 䬨㴪䬨㔥䝐䣱䞙㼀

䬨䬨䣱䝐㥔㓶㘄㴪㔥䡃㹃䣱䨊䝐䬨䬨㯳㥔㧻䨊㒆㯳㗗䡃䡃䣱䝐䬨䬨㔥㒆㲆㹃㗗䬨䨊㥔䨊㥔㥔㗗㼀䣱㯳㲆㗗'䁋㹃㥔㯳㹃

"䬃㹃㗗䨊 㹃㥔䤤 䞙㹃䨊㒆䟁㢁" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㠚䝐㗗㥔㥔䬨䤤 㲆㴪㯳䨊䬨䝐㗗䣱䡃㯳㚵㴪 㹃㯳 䟁䬨 䣱㧻䬨㥔䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㶢䟁㹃㚵㚵䬨㥔㠚䬨 䢈䡃㥔㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔䈔 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㯳㴪㯳䨊䬨㲆㼀

䣷䬨 㒆㚵㗗㒆㟔䬨䤤 䣱㥔 䨊䟁䬨 㒆䟁㹃㚵㚵䬨㥔㠚䬨 䨊㹃㔥㢁 㹃㥔䤤 㹃㥔䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 㧻䝐䣱㲆㧻䨊 㹃㧻㧻䬨㹃䝐䬨䤤 㔥䬨㯳㗗䤤䬨 䨊䟁䬨 㒆䡃䝐䝐䬨㥔䨊 䣱㥔䬨㼀

㓱㭥䨊㹃䨊䬨 㴪䣱䡃䝐 䞙㹃䝐 㧻䝐䬨㧻㹃䝐㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 䨊㗗㲆䬨㼀䈔

"㾂㥔䬨 䞙䬨䬨㟔㢁" 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 䬨㥔䨊䬨䝐䬨䤤 䨊䟁䬨 䨊㗗㲆䬨 㚵㗗㲆㗗䨊㼀 䲲㥔䣱䨊䟁䬨䝐 㧻䝐䣱㲆㧻䨊 㹃㧻㧻䬨㹃䝐䬨䤤㼀

㓱㭥䨊㹃䨊䬨 㴪䣱䡃䝐 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳㼀䈔

"㭥㗗㲆㧻㚵䬨㼀㼀㼀 䳃䟞 㲆㴪 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 㚵䣱㯳䬨㯳㢁 䳃 䞙㗗㚵㚵 㔥䬨㒆䣱㲆䬨 㹃 㯳㚵㹃㓶䬨 䨊䣱 䨊䟁䬨 㽘㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㼀 䅟䡃䨊 㗗䟞 㲆㴪 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙㗗㥔㯳㢁 䨊䟁䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 㲆䡃㯳䨊 䝐䬨㚵䬨㹃㯳䬨 㓱䲲䝐㚵䬨㥔 䲲㴪䝐䬨 䁋㹃䨊䟁㴪䝐㹃䈔㼀 䲲㥔䤤 㗗䟞 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁 䝐䬨䟞䡃㯳䬨㯳 䨊䣱 㹃㒆㒆䬨㧻䨊 䨊䟁䬨㯳䬨 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳㢁 䨊䟁䬨㥔 㗗䨊 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤 㲆䬨㹃㥔 䟁䬨 㗗㯳 㹃䤤㲆㗗䨊䨊㗗㥔㠚 䨊䟁㹃䨊 䟁䬨 㗗㯳 㠚㹃㴪㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䟁䬨 㲆䡃㯳䨊 㯳䟁㹃㓶䬨 䟁㗗㯳 䟁䬨㹃䤤 㹃㥔䤤 䞙䬨㹃䝐 㹃 䤤䣱㠚 㒆䣱㚵㚵㹃䝐 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㯳㹃㴪㯳㢁 '䳃'㲆 㹃㥔 䡃㠚㚵㴪 䤤䣱㠚㼀'"

䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㯳㲆㗗㚵䬨䤤 䟞䣱䝐 㹃 㯳䬨㒆䣱㥔䤤 㔥䬨䟞䣱䝐䬨 㒆㚵㗗㒆㟔㗗㥔㠚 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㭥䬨㥔䤤䈔 㔥䡃䨊䨊䣱㥔㼀

㰓䟁䬨 㲆䣱㲆䬨㥔䨊 䟁䬨 䤤㗗䤤㢁 㹃 㥔䣱䨊㗗䟞㗗㒆㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 㹃㧻㧻䬨㹃䝐䬨䤤 㔥䬨䟞䣱䝐䬨 䬨㓶䬨䝐㴪 㯳㗗㥔㠚㚵䬨 㹃䞙㹃㟔䬨㥔䬨䝐 㗗㥔 䨊䟁䬨 䢈㗗䝐㯳䨊 㰓䣱䞙䬨䝐 䂢䬨㹃㚵㲆㼀

㓱㰓䟁䬨 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㶢㗗䝐㒆㚵䬨 䣱䟞 㾂䡃䝐䣱㔥䣱䝐䣱㯳䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䟁㹃㯳 㧻䡃㔥㚵㗗㒆㚵㴪 䤤䬨㒆㚵㹃䝐䬨䤤 䞙㹃䝐 䣱㥔 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㽘㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㼀䈔

㓱㰓䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳 㯳䨊㹃䨊䬨 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㗗䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㶢㗗䝐㒆㚵䬨 䣱䟞 㾂䡃䝐䣱㔥䣱䝐䣱㯳䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 㚵䣱㯳䬨㯳㢁 㗗䨊㯳 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐㢁 '䳃㥔䟞㗗㥔㗗䨊㴪㢁' 䞙㗗㚵㚵 㔥䬨㒆䣱㲆䬨 㹃 㯳㚵㹃㓶䬨 䨊䣱 䨊䟁䬨 㽘㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳㼀䈔

㓱䳃䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㶢㗗䝐㒆㚵䬨 䣱䟞 㾂䡃䝐䣱㔥䣱䝐䣱㯳䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙㗗㥔㯳㢁 䨊䟁䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 㲆䡃㯳䨊 䝐䬨㚵䬨㹃㯳䬨 㓱䲲䝐㚵䬨㥔 䲲㴪䝐䬨 䁋㹃䨊䟁㴪䝐㹃䈔䈔㼀

㓱䳃䟞 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁㢁 䨊䟁䬨 㒆䡃䝐䝐䬨㥔䨊 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐 䣱䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㽘㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㢁 䝐䬨䟞䡃㯳䬨㯳 䨊䣱 㹃㒆㒆䬨㧻䨊 䨊䟁㗗㯳 㒆䟁㹃㚵㚵䬨㥔㠚䬨 㹃㥔䤤 䨊䟁䬨 㯳䨊㹃䨊䬨䤤 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳㢁 㗗䨊 䞙㗗㚵㚵 㔥䬨 㒆䣱㥔㯳㗗䤤䬨䝐䬨䤤 㹃㥔 㹃䤤㲆㗗㯳㯳㗗䣱㥔 䨊䟁㹃䨊 䟁䬨 㗗㯳 㠚㹃㴪㢁 㹃㥔䤤 䟁䬨 㲆䡃㯳䨊 㯳䟁㹃㓶䬨 䟁㗗㯳 䟁䬨㹃䤤 㹃㥔䤤 䞙䬨㹃䝐 㹃 䤤䣱㠚 㒆䣱㚵㚵㹃䝐 䨊䟁㹃䨊 㯳㹃㴪㯳㢁 '䳃'㲆 㹃㥔 䡃㠚㚵㴪 䤤䣱㠚㼀'䈔

㓱䳃䟞 䨊䟁䬨 㓱㽘㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨䈔 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔'㯳 㚵䬨㹃䤤䬨䝐㢁 䲲䬨䝐䣱㥔 䅟䝐䬨㥔㚵㗗䨊䟁㢁 㹃㒆㒆䬨㧻䨊㯳 䨊䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 㒆䣱㥔䤤㗗䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳㢁 䨊䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 䞙㗗㚵㚵 㔥䬨㠚㗗㥔 㗗㥔 䣱㥔䬨 䞙䬨䬨㟔㼀䈔

䬃䟁䬨䨊䟁䬨䝐 䨊䟁䬨㴪 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㗗㥔㓶䣱㚵㓶䬨䤤 㗗㥔 䨊䟁䬨 䞙㹃䝐 䣱䝐 㥔䣱䨊㢁 䬨㓶䬨䝐㴪 㹃䞙㹃㟔䬨㥔䬨䝐 㗗㥔 㭥䣱㚵㹃䝐䨊㹃 䞙㹃㯳 㥔䣱䞙 㯳䨊㹃䝐㗗㥔㠚 㹃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㯳㴪㯳䨊䬨㲆'㯳 㧻䡃㔥㚵㗗㒆 㹃㥔㥔䣱䡃㥔㒆䬨㲆䬨㥔䨊 㗗㥔 㯳䟁䣱㒆㟔㼀

"㰓䟁㗗㯳 㠚䡃㴪 '䳃㥔䟞㗗㥔㗗䨊㴪'㼀㼀㼀 䳃㯳 䟁䬨 㒆䝐㹃㹣㴪㭈"

"䣷䬨'㯳 䤤䬨䟞㗗㥔㗗䨊䬨㚵㴪 㲆㹃䤤㼀㼀㼀"

"㶢㹃㥔'䨊 䟁䬨 㯳䨊䣱㧻 䤤䣱㗗㥔㠚 㗗㥔㯳㹃㥔䬨 䨊䟁㗗㥔㠚㯳 䟞䣱䝐 䬨㓶䬨㥔 㹃 㲆㗗㥔䡃䨊䬨㭈"

"䅉䡃㯳䨊 䞙䟁䣱 䤤䣱䬨㯳 䟁䬨 䨊䟁㗗㥔㟔 䟁䬨 㗗㯳㼀㼀㼀㭈"

"䣷䬨'㯳 㠚䣱㗗㥔㠚 㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㯳 㥔䣱䞙㭈"

㰓䟁䬨 㹃䞙㹃㟔䬨㥔䬨䝐㯳 䣱䟞 㭥䣱㚵㹃䝐䨊㹃 㔥䬨㠚㹃㥔 䨊䣱 㓫䡃䬨㯳䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙䟁䬨䨊䟁䬨䝐 '䳃㥔䟞㗗㥔㗗䨊㴪' 䟁㹃䤤 㚵䣱㯳䨊 䟁㗗㯳 㲆㗗㥔䤤㼀

㥔䣱䬨䬨䟁䨊䟞䣱㗗䝐䢈䨊㯳䟞䣱䞙㹃㯳䟞㚵䝐䬨䞙䣱㧻䡃䟁䨊䬨䬨䞙䝐㰓䣱㯳䣱䨊㲆㥔䨊䟞㯳㗗㹃㒆䣱䬨㲆㚵䂢㹃㥔㗗䣱䟁䝐䨊㯳㚵㚵㠚㥔㠚䬨㹃㗗㥔䟁㶢㥔㥔䣱䟁㗗䨊㠚㼀㯳䬨㥔㹃㲆㯳䤤

䅟䡃䨊 䨊䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙㹃㯳 䣱㥔䬨 㧻䬨䝐㯳䣱㥔 㗗㥔 㭥䣱㚵㹃䝐䨊㹃 䞙䟁䣱㯳䬨 䝐䬨㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙㹃㯳 䨊䟁䬨 㲆䣱㯳䨊 㗗㥔䨊䬨㥔㯳䬨㼀

"㰓䟁㗗㯳 㔥㹃㯳䨊㹃䝐䤤㼀㼀㼀"

䬨䝐㥔䲲䣱䤤㹃㼀䬨㲆㥔䣱䝐䣱㒆䬨䤤䨊䨊䬨䟁䨊䤤㹃䟁䨊㗗䬨㗗䬨㢡㯳㯳㧻㥔䝐䣱䅟㯳㥔㚵䬨㗗䝐䨊䟁'䬨㓶䝐䬨㚵䡃㯳㗗㠚䨊䬨䣱䨊㥔㗗㹃䟞㒆䬨

㰓䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㥔䣱 䞙䣱䝐䤤㯳 䨊䣱 䤤䬨㯳㒆䝐㗗㔥䬨 䨊䟁䬨 㯳䟁䬨䬨䝐 䟁㹃䨊䝐䬨䤤 䟁䬨 䞙㹃㯳 䟞䬨䬨㚵㗗㥔㠚㼀

"䣷䬨 䤤㹃䝐䬨㯳 䨊䣱 㒆䟁㹃㚵㚵䬨㥔㠚䬨 㲆䬨… 㹃 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨㭈"

䨊㗗㥔㹃㗗㥔㠚㒆㥔䣱䟁䤤䬨䬨䨊㠚㗗㢁㥔䨊㯳㠚䡃㥔㗗䟁䝐㒆㯳䨊䟞㗗䣱䣱㚵䤤㔥㼀㹃㯳䬨䬨䣷㗗㯳㲆㥔㒆䣱䣱㲆䬨䟁䨊䟁䨊䬨䟞㚵䬨㚵㯳㯳㠚㹃㹃䨊䬨㲆㚵䣱䟞㹃䞙䟁㗗䨊

㰓䟁䬨 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨 䤤㗗䤤㥔'䨊 㯳䡃㯳㧻䬨㒆䨊 㹃㥔㴪䨊䟁㗗㥔㠚 䡃㥔䡃㯳䡃㹃㚵 㹃㔥䣱䡃䨊 䨊䟁䬨 䨊㗗㲆䬨 㚵㗗㲆㗗䨊㼀

䳃㥔 䟁㗗㯳 㲆㗗㥔䤤㢁 䨊䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙㹃㯳 㥔䣱 䞙㹃㴪 㹃 㲆䬨䝐䬨 䟁䡃㲆㹃㥔 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 㧻䣱㯳䬨 㹃 䨊䟁䝐䬨㹃䨊 䨊䣱 䟁㗗㲆㼀

㚵䣱㯳䨊䡃㔥㯳䬨㹃䬨㒆㠚䝐㥔㼢㥔䞙㹃䝐䣱㟔䬨㧻㗗䣱䟞䨊䬨䟁䬨䨊䟁䬨䬨㚵㚵㓶㥔䣱㴪㚵䬨䨊䨊㼀㹃㔥㚵㯳䤤㹃䟁䣱䬨䟞䝐䬨㔥䣱䨊㗗㥔䟞'䳃㗗'㥔㴪㗗㥔䨊㯳㒆䨊㗗㥔䬨䣱㯳㗗䝐䝐䨊䬨䣷

䅟䡃䨊 䟞㹃㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔 䞙㹃䝐㯳 䞙䬨䝐䬨 䤤㗗䟞䟞䬨䝐䬨㥔䨊㼀

㰓䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㥔䣱 㚵䬨㓶䬨㚵 䣱䝐 㧻䣱䞙䬨䝐 䝐䬨㯳䨊䝐㗗㒆䨊㗗䣱㥔㯳 䟁䬨䝐䬨㼀

㥔䣱㗗䨊㥔䬨䝐䬨㚵㒆䣱䡃䤤䟞䣱㲆䣱䝐䬨䟞䨊㹃㥔㗗㒆䣱㥔㹃㲆䡃䟁䨊㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳㹃㥔㹃㴪䞙䬨㚵䟞䬨㯳䝐㢡㢁䬨㗗䬨㔥㥔㠚㯳䬨䬨㰓䝐䟁䤤㢁㥔㹃㯳㚵㴪㗗㲆㧻䞙㹃㯳㧻㗗䡃䝐䝐㯳䬨䣱䨊䟁㹃㗗㥔㥔㴪㢁㠚㓶㹃䬨㢁㗗㲆㧻㯳䝐㯳㗗㥔㠚㚵䬨㹃䬨㯳㥔䨊䝐䟁㢁㠚䨊䨊䟁㗗䞙㥔䝐䝐㹃䬨䨊㠚㗗㼀䣱䬨䬨㥔㯳㹃䨊䤤㥔㗗㥔䬨㯳㹃㥔㗗㹃㠚䨊㢁㗗㴪㚵㥔㹃䟁䨊

䨇䣱 㲆㹃䨊䨊䬨䝐 䟁䣱䞙 㲆䡃㒆䟁 䨊䟁䬨㴪 䞙䬨䝐䬨 㗗㥔㥿䡃䝐䬨䤤㢁 䨊䟁䬨㴪 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤 䝐䬨㒆䣱㓶䬨䝐 䞙㗗䨊䟁㗗㥔 㯳䬨㒆䣱㥔䤤㯳㼀

"㬔䬨䨊'㯳 㯳䬨䬨 䞙䟁㹃䨊 㴪䣱䡃 㒆㹃㥔 䤤䣱 㹃㠚㹃㗗㥔㯳䨊 䨊䟁䬨 㗗㲆㲆䬨㥔㯳䬨 㧻䣱䞙䬨䝐 䣱䟞 㹃 㥔䣱㔥㚵䬨 㓶㹃㲆㧻㗗䝐䬨… 㴪䣱䡃 㚵䣱䞙㚵㴪㢁 㗗㥔㯳㗗㠚㥔㗗䟞㗗㒆㹃㥔䨊 䟁䡃㲆㹃㥔㼀"

㠚䝐㗗㥔㹃䝐㒆㯳㯳䣱㢁䬨䤤㗗䞙䬨䝐㹃㯳䤤㧻䬨䟁䬨䬨㒆㧻㒆㹃䨊䤤䟁㗗㯳䟞㹃㒆䬨䨊䟁䬨䬨㚵㚵㠚㹃䟁䬨㒆㼀㥔㗗㯳㗗䨊㹃㒆䤤㯳䲲㯳㹃

㰓䟁䬨䝐䬨 䞙㹃㯳 㥔䣱 䞙㹃㴪 䟁䬨 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 䤤䬨㒆㚵㗗㥔䬨 㹃䟞䨊䬨䝐 䨊䟁䬨 䟁䡃㲆㗗㚵㗗㹃䨊㗗䣱㥔 䟁䬨 䟁㹃䤤 㯳䡃䟞䟞䬨䝐䬨䤤㼀

㭥䣱 䞙䟁㹃䨊 㗗䟞 䟁㗗㯳 䟁㹃㥔䤤㯳 䞙䣱䡃㚵䤤 㔥䬨 䨊㗗䬨䤤 㔥㴪 䨊䟁䬨 㯳㴪㯳䨊䬨㲆 䟞䣱䝐 㹃 䞙䬨䬨㟔㭈

䳃䨊㗗㹃㥔㴪䟁䨊㼀㠚㥔㹃䟁㒆㠚㥔䬨'䤤㚵䡃䣱䨊䞙㥔

䲲㥔䤤 䬨㓶䬨㥔 㗗䟞 䁋㹃㲆㗗㹃㥔 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 㠚䝐䣱䞙 㯳䨊䝐䣱㥔㠚䬨䝐㢁 䟁䣱䞙 㲆䡃㒆䟁 㒆䣱䡃㚵䤤 䟁䬨 㧻䣱㯳㯳㗗㔥㚵㴪 㗗㲆㧻䝐䣱㓶䬨 㗗㥔 㥿䡃㯳䨊 䣱㥔䬨 䞙䬨䬨㟔㭈

"㾂㥔䬨 䞙䬨䬨㟔㼀㼀㼀 㘄㥔㥿䣱㴪 䞙䟁㹃䨊 㚵㗗䨊䨊㚵䬨 䨊㗗㲆䬨 㴪䣱䡃 䟁㹃㓶䬨 㚵䬨䟞䨊 䞙䟁㗗㚵䬨 㴪䣱䡃 㒆㹃㥔㼀㼀"