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Chapter 0
0.1.0
Even
as
I
stare
at
the
blank
screen
in
front
of
me,
only
one
question
plagues
my
mind…
What
is
the
fundamental
difference
between
two
souls?
If
it
is
money,
fame,
and
fortune
that
makes
a
man,
then
what
sets
two
immaterial
souls
apart
from
one
another?
Nay,
who
defines
the
difference
between
them?
I
type
frantically
to
try
and
find
the
answer
somewhere
in
the
cold
world
of
coding.
1s
and
0s;
rules
and
exceptions;
runs
and
errors.
Even
as
sweat
drizzles
down
my
face
and
the
day
grows
darker
into
the
night,
this
burning
resolve
to
search
for
the
answer
ignites
my
fingers
to
dance
across
the
keyboard.
Why
does
any
of
this
matter
in
the
end?
I
ask
myself
the
same
question
time
and
time
again,
and
yet
there
is
no
response.
Guilt
eats
away
at
my
conscience,
as
I
remember
the
countless
lives
that
have
been
lost.
Who
made
me
take
the
innocent
lives
of
so
many
suffering
souls?
I,
no,
we
are
to
blame
for
the
endless
massacres
that
occur
across
the
boundary
between
reality
and
fantasy.
I,
the
creator
of
the
world,
have
no
say
in
how
my
creations
live
or
die.
He,
the
destroyer
of
the
world,
tears
apart
their
souls
one
alteration
at
a
time.
Where
did
we
all
go
wrong?
❖
──
✦
──『✙』──
✦
──
❖
Even
as
I
make
eye
contact
with
the
greedy
stares
of
wealthy
men,
I
feel
no
fear…and
yet
the
question
of
the
hour
remains
in
my
mind…
What
is
the
fundamental
difference
between
sinners
and
saints?
If
it
is
morality,
genetics,
and
upbringing
that
makes
a
man,
then
what
sets
sinners
and
saints
apart
from
one
another?
Nay,
who
defines
the
difference
between
them?
I
present
my
products
to
these
greedy
investors
to
try
and
find
the
answer
somewhere
in
the
hellish
world
of
finance.
20k
and
100k;
contracts
and
breaches;
deals
and
deception.
Even
as
I
lower
the
inhibitions
of
lofty
investors
and
the
darkness
of
my
soul
grows
stronger
with
each
deal,
this
chilling
resolve
to
search
for
the
answer
moves
my
mouth
to
convince
the
sinners
and
the
saints
to
bow
at
my
feet.
Why
does
any
of
this
matter
in
the
end?
I
ask
myself
the
same
question
time
and
time
again,
and
yet
there
is
no
response.
The
face
of
my
younger
sister
burns
in
my
brain,
as
I
remember
her
anguished
expression.
Who
made
me
into
a
monster
of
manipulation
and
mutilation?
I,
no,
they
(the
sinners)
are
to
blame
for
the
endless
suffering
of
the
saints
in
the
waking
world.
Sinners
exist
even
in
a
world
where
morality
shouldn’t
–
doesn’t
exist.
I,
the
destroyer
of
this
hypocrisy,
send
these
sinners
into
eternal
suffering
for
their
sins.
She,
the
defender
of
this
hypocrisy,
continually
climbs
to
the
challenge
of
saving
them
from
their
fate.
When
will
she
finally
stop
her
meaningless
crusade?
1.0.1
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