Crushing flags and claiming the Villainess
Chapter 113: Chapter 112- True face(1)

Chapter 113: Chapter 112- True face(1)

[Two days later]

In Eryndor, a gathering of people has been arranged.

Those who were worried about the King's health gathered in the royal court to see and greet the King.

Naturally, because of so many people here, the security of the royal court was extra strict as well. And those who were allowed to enter the palace were thoroughly examined near the entrance. 

On the throne, Cedric was seated. Although he seemed slightly feverish, he was quite better in comparison to how he was when Austin came to meet him.

His strict diet and regular sessions with the healers allowed the man to recover well.

And since it was still not discovered who and how someone poisoned the King, the food he eats is still being prepared by the butler.

Now, in the royal court, those who have gathered expressed their relief upon seeing their Monarch being healthy once again. 

"Your Majesty, my eyes are blessed to see you in good health." One of the men, who was a farmer by profession, knelt on the floor with his hands clasped.

"It really put us at ease to see our ruler in good health." A woman added, having a smile of relief on her face.

Cedric couldn't stop himself from smiling. Seeing how much he was loved by his people, makes him feel that he hasn't failed his predecessor. 

The Queen, who was sitting behind the curtains, also smiled in elation, upon finding that so many people cared about her husband. 

"It's the well wishes of my people that I have recovered so well," Cedric spoke, his voice soothing the hearts of many.

Although Eryndor was a small country, Cedric has always ensured that within his jurisdiction, everyone gets to eat three meals a day. 

He even goes out regularly to inspect the situation with regular people and take necessary action to improve their situation.

It was his wife's idea to take a couple of steps for people's betterment—like providing monthly ration to the family members of those who are serving the country. And employment to those who live in remote areas. 

With the help of responsible ministers who work under him, Cedric has established a harmonious family within Eryndor.

Just like others, Duke Corwon also had a soft smile on his face as he heard the blessings of the people. 

However, the person sitting on the second seat on the left—the first Prince of the nation, looked quite bored by all this.

He really didn't want to be a part of this at all, however, convincing his mother against it would have been a little too much. The lady still loves her husband quite a lot, and his skill wouldn't have been able to overwrite that.

But maybe slowly, he would somehow corrupt the woman and use her to his benefit.

'I guess it's enough now...' Deciding to prepone his plans, Aiden glanced at one of the ministers across from him. 

The minister nodded before he turned toward someone in the crowd.

It was then—

"You are unfair!" Amidst the peaceful ceremony, suddenly a woman cried.

Every eye turned towards her as the weeping woman came to the front and cried again, 

"You are sacrificing our lives for the sake of your son!"

People suddenly began whispering, wondering what the woman was spouting all of a sudden. 

Cedric had a frown on his face as he heard the woman,

"My husband died at the hands of the spies from Drenovar. My whole life is ruined, and now, you are about to risk everyone who depends on you...who trusts you!"

The soldiers were already moving, raising their spears, and were about to take the woman away.

Aiden glared at the minister, before he got up, "What are you spouting, woman?! Say clearly!"

Prime Minister frowned upon seeing the senior adviser suddenly adding oil to the small fire. 

Hearing his words, even the soldiers paused, allowing the woman to add, "Hener extended a helping hand in exchange for punishing your second son. And with their help, we all know that we will win against Drenovar! Yet you....you chose your son over your nation!"

Cedric's brows were creased. He didn't know how, but it seemed the news of Hener's proposal had gone out.

'It might be their doing...' Cedric thought that it might be someone from Hener who spread the news.

However, the King completely missed to notice a certain young man with silver hair, grinning slightly at the scene.

The piece of information was spread amongst the people and everyone began muttering about it soon.

Prime Minister Arthur gritted his teeth—why are they letting it continue.

He suddenly rose from his seat before commanding, "Take that woman away now-"

"Is it true, Prime Minister? Did we really get a helping hand?" Someone from the crowd asked the man.

"Tell us, Prime Minister? Is it really true?" Another voice and the question were the same.

Following them were several more voices, asking the same thing again and again. 

Aiden wore a perfect facade and got up from his seat, before asking the Prime Minister, "Should we push them out?"

Arthur shook his head, "Not giving them any answer would only make things worse. These are people, not criminals, whom we can silence."

Duke Corwon nodded, "Yes, we need to give them an answer, or this will grow into rebellion in no time."

Nothing is above one's life. All the help and kindness the King extended toward his people would be forgotten in an instant if their lives were on the line.

The situation was getting more severe passing each moment. 

Sophie was restlessly glancing between her son and her husband, thinking who would get up to resolve the situation. However, the growing agitation of the people didn't seem like something that could be tamed easily.

Amidst the growing tension, suddenly, a soldier arrived at the court, weaving through the people, he stood in the middle of the court before announcing,

"Y-Your Majesty, a convoy...from Drenovar."

Cedric instantly rose from his seat followed by the other ministers, as the Supreme Authority voiced,

"Alert all the posts and tell them to engage right away!" He couldn't understand how the forces of Drenovar even reached the capital without him receiving any information.

Aiden also frowned at the news. This was quite unexpected. Weren't they attacked by demons a few days ago? Why did they suddenly decide to attack.

It was then, when the soldier informed something crucial about this convoy, "Your Majesty, the one leading the convoy is the Second Prince."

"...!"

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading. 

䕳䶢䘭䪰䡻䕳㐅㨁㨁䩶䩪㮠䍬䢮䇶䨹䩪㱨㨁䇶㮠䕳㫁㞾䕳㱨㨁䘭䡻䶢䘲㮠㛷䪰䇶㮠㾲䩪䢮䩪䪰㨁㣾㨁㮠䪰䍬㨁㨁䓓䶢㨁

䓓䶢㨁 䘭㨁㱨䩪䪰䇶 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 䨹䶢䩪 䨹䕳䘭 䘭㹫㫁㫁䩪䘭㨁䇶 䘲䩪 䍬㨁 䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁 㼥㱨䕳䇶㨁㐅㾲㺠 㮠㨁䘲㹫㮠䪰㨁䇶 䶢䩪㐅㨁 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪䪰㣾䩪㾲 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰 䨹䶢䩪 䨹䕳䘭 䩪䪰 䘲䶢㨁 㣾㨁㮠䟚㨁 䩪䢮 䨹䕳㮠 䨹䡻䘲䶢 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠䩶

㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 㮠㨁䕳㞾䡻䌔㨁䇶 䩪䪰㨁 䘲䶢䡻䪰䟚 䢮㮠䩪㐅 䘲䶢䡻䘭㺠 䕳䪰䇶 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䡻䘭 䶢㨁 䨹䕳䘭 䍬㨁䘲㮠䕳㾲㨁䇶 䍬㾲 㵒䩪㮠䜑㨁㞾䩶

䘲㼥㹫䡻䘭䪰䍬䕳䇶䘲䶢㨁㺠䪰䩪㮠䬝㨁㣾㮠䕳䘭䡻䩪䘲㐅䶢䟚䪰㨁㨁䨹䪰䜑䬝㮠䕳㨁㣾䪰㮠䩪䕳㐅㱨㼥㨁䇶㺠㾲䘲䘭䕳䨹䪰'䡻䪰䟚䪰䘭㨁䡻䪰䘭䘲䕳䶢䘲䶢㨁㞾䇶㺠㱨㵊㨁䡻㮠䪰㮠䢮䩪㐅䢮㨁䕳㱨䘲㹫䍬䘲䶢㨁㮠䘭㐅㨁㨁䘭㨁䪰䟚㹫䩪䍬䕳䘲䶢㨁䘲䡻䘭㽞㮠䘲䡻䪰㨁䶢䘲䪰䇶䕳㾲䇶㮠䢮㨁䡻䪰㞾㫁䶢䕳䩶㨁㫁䪰䘲䩪䕳䨹䘭

䎍䩪䨹㨁㣾㨁㮠㺠 㨁㣾㨁䪰 䘲䶢䩪㹫䟚䶢 䶢㨁 䇶䡻䇶䪰'䘲 䨹䕳䪰䘲 䡻䘲 䘲䩪 䶢䕳㫁㫁㨁䪰㺠 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 䶢䕳䇶 䪰䩪 䩪䘲䶢㨁㮠 䩪㫁䘲䡻䩪䪰 䍬㹫䘲 䘲䩪 㞾䡻䘭䘲㨁䪰㺠

"㵑䩪㹫㮠 㵒䕳䠚㨁䘭䘲㾲㺠 㦣䡻䪰䟚 䩪䢮 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠㺠 䥫㹫䕳㮠䇶䡻䕳䪰 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁䘭㨁 㞾䕳䪰䇶䘭㺠 䌩 䍬㮠䡻䪰䟚 㾲䩪㹫 䘲䶢㨁 㐅㨁䘭䘭䕳䟚㨁 䘭㨁䪰䘲 䢮㮠䩪㐅 䬝㮠㨁䪰䩪㣾䕳㮠—䘭㨁䪰䘲 䍬㾲 䘲䶢㨁 㵒䩪䪰䕳㮠㱨䶢䩶"

䢮䕳㮠䪰䩪䨹䩶䨹㨁䢮䩪㫁䇶㮠㨁䘲䡻㮠䌔䡻䡻䘭䨹䕳䶢㼥䟚䶢㞾䘲㹫䩪䘲䨹䪰䇶㨁䕳㨁䘭䘭㨁䟚㨁㐅㮠䪰䡻䇶䕳䪰䟚䘲䪰䘭䡻䕳䪰䇶㐅㨁㮠㨁㮠䇶㾲䘭㞾㨁䩪䨹䘭㞾䕳㾲䨹䕳㨁䩶䕳䘭䘲䇶㨁㨁䶢䘲䪰䶢䡻䘭䟚㦣䡻䪰䟚䢮㮠䩪㐅䩪䘭㐅䩪㮠䢮䪰㨁㐅㮠䘭㨁䘭㺠䟚㨁䩪䘲䪰㮠㨁㱨䡻㫺䇶㨁䶢䘲䘲䡻㼥㹫䘭䪰㺠䩪䶢䨹䘲䶢㨁䘭䕳䜑䘲䩪䘲㨁䶢䢮䩪㮠

䓓䶢㨁 㱨㮠䩪䨹䇶 䩪䢮 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 䶢䕳䘭 䍬㨁㨁䪰 䘭䡻㞾㨁䪰㱨㨁䇶 㱨䩪㐅㫁㞾㨁䘲㨁㞾㾲㺠 䕳䪰䇶 䘲䶢㨁 㵒䡻䪰䡻䘭䘲㨁㮠䘭㺠 䡻䪰㱨㞾㹫䇶䡻䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䶢䡻㨁䢮 䕳䇶㣾䡻䘭䩪㮠—䩪䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䨹䩪㮠䇶㞾㨁䘭䘭 㱨䩪㐅㐅䕳䪰䇶 䩪䢮 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰—䨹㨁㮠㨁 㫁䕳䘲䡻㨁䪰䘲㞾㾲 㞾䡻䘭䘲㨁䪰䡻䪰䟚 䘲䩪 䘲䶢㨁 㐅㨁䘭䘭䕳䟚㨁䩶

"㽞䩪㮠 䘲䶢㨁 㞾䩪䘭䘭㨁䘭 䌩 䶢䕳㣾㨁 㱨䕳㹫䘭㨁䇶㺠 䢮䩪㮠 䘲䶢㨁 䘲䶢㮠㨁䕳䘲䘭 䌩 䶢䕳㣾㨁 䍬㮠䩪㹫䟚䶢䘲 䢮䩪㮠䘲䶢㺠 䕳䪰䇶 䢮䩪㮠 䘲䶢㨁 䢮㨁㹫䇶䘭 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䶢䕳㣾㨁 㞾䩪䪰䟚 䘭䘲䕳䡻䪰㨁䇶 䘲䶢㨁 䶢䡻䘭䘲䩪㮠㾲 䍬㨁䘲䨹㨁㨁䪰 䩪㹫㮠 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰䘭—䌩 䩪䢮䢮㨁㮠 䪰㨁䡻䘲䶢㨁㮠 㨁㣩㱨㹫䘭㨁 䪰䩪㮠 䠚㹫䘭䘲䡻䢮䡻㱨䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰䩶 䓓䶢㨁 䨹䩪㹫䪰䇶䘭 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 㫁䕳䘭䘲 䕳㮠㨁 㹫䪰䇶㨁䪰䡻䕳䍬㞾㨁㺠 䕳䪰䇶 䘲䶢㨁 䍬䩪䪰䇶 䩪䪰㱨㨁 䘭䶢䕳㮠㨁䇶 䍬㾲 䩪㹫㮠 㮠㨁䕳㞾㐅䘭 䶢䕳䘭 䍬㨁㨁䪰 䢮㮠䕳㱨䘲㹫㮠㨁䇶䩶

䨹䶢䕳䘲䪰䩪䜑䪰䨹䩪㮠䪰㨁䜑䍬䨹㨁䡻䟚䘲䶢䨹䶢䘲䕳䕳䘭䶢䢮䩪䶢䕳䘲䘲㮠䩪䢮䍬㨁䩪䪰䘲䍬㹫䘲䘲䶢㨁㮠㞾㨁㐅㨁㾲㺠䘲㵑㨁䩪䇶㨁䪰䶢䘲䕳㫁㨁䶢䶢䩪㞾䇶䘭䕳䘭㨁䇶㐅㨁䇶䪰䕳䘭㞾䪰㾲䩪䶢䘲䡻䘭㣾䕳䶢㨁䘭䡻䕳䪰䩪㱨䘲䪰䩪䘲䟚㞾䩪㨁䪰㮠䇶䪰䡻㨁䍬㨁䘲䇶䩪㹫㮠䩶㫁㨁㨁䩪㫁㞾㞾㨁䘲㞾䕳䘭䩪䪰㨁䨹㨁䘭㨁䇶䇶䎍䡻䘭䢮䩪㮠䡻䘲䪰䪰㨁䩪䕳䪰㾲䨹䕳䘭䇶䩪䪰䙥㨁㱨䢮䩪㾲㨁䩪䇶䪰䍬䘲䢮㮠䕳㨁䪰㼥㹫䡻䘲䘭䩶㨁㱨䪰䡻㮠㵊䜑䕳㨁㫁䘭䪰䟚㺠䡻䜑䢮䩪㮠䟚㨁䇶

㽞䩪㮠㐅䩶㨁䕳㹫䘭㮠㨁㐅䕳䪰䍬㹫䘲㨁㣾䕳䶢䬝䕳㮠㣾䩪㮠䪰㨁㺠

"䌩㺠 䌩䇶㮠䡻䘭㺠 㦣䡻䪰䟚 䩪䢮 䬝㮠㨁䪰䩪㣾䕳㮠㺠 㨁㣩䘲㨁䪰䇶 㐅㾲 䶢䕳䪰䇶 䡻䪰 䕳 䘲㮠㹫㱨㨁 䍬㨁䘲䨹㨁㨁䪰 䩪㹫㮠 䘲䨹䩪 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰䘭䩶

䓓䶢㨁 㫁䕳䘭䘲 䶢䕳䘭 䍬㨁㨁䪰 㐅䕳㮠㮠㨁䇶 䍬㾲 㱨䩪䪰䢮㞾䡻㱨䘲㺠 䍬㾲 㞾䩪䘭䘭㨁䘭 䘭㹫䢮䢮㨁㮠㨁䇶㺠 䕳䪰䇶 䍬㾲 䨹䩪㹫䪰䇶䘭 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䡻㐅㨁 䶢䕳䘭 䘭䘲㮠㹫䟚䟚㞾㨁䇶 䘲䩪 䶢㨁䕳㞾䩶 䌩 䇶䩪 䪰䩪䘲 䘭㨁㨁䜑 䘲䩪 㨁㮠䕳䘭㨁 䨹䶢䕳䘲 䶢䕳䘭 䍬㨁㨁䪰㺠 䪰䩪㮠 䇶䩪 䌩 䇶㨁䪰㾲 䘲䶢㨁 䍬㹫㮠䇶㨁䪰䘭 㱨䕳㮠㮠䡻㨁䇶 䍬㾲 䍬䩪䘲䶢 䩪㹫㮠 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁䘭䩶 㵑㨁䘲㺠 䕳䢮䘲㨁㮠 䘲䶢㨁 䪰䩪䍬㞾㨁 䇶㨁㨁䇶䘭 䩪䢮 㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰㺠 䌩 㱨䕳䪰 䪰䩪 㞾䩪䪰䟚㨁㮠 䕳㞾㞾䩪䨹 䩪㞾䇶 䟚㮠㹫䇶䟚㨁䘭 䘲䩪 䇶䡻㱨䘲䕳䘲㨁 䘲䶢㨁 䢮㹫䘲㹫㮠㨁 䩪䢮 䩪㹫㮠 㮠㨁䕳㞾㐅䘭䩶

䨹㮠䢮䇶䩪䕳㮠㮠䪰䩪㞾䟚㨁䕳䪰䇶䘭䩪㫁㨁㮠䩪㫁䶢䘲䘲䕳㨁㮠㣾䕳䬝䩪䪰㮠䘭䪰䇶㮠㨁䇶䡻䟚䪰㹫䪰䕳䩶䘲䕳䘭䶢䘲㨁㨁䨹䘭㺠䩪䌩䪰㐅䘭䘲䡻䪰䡻㨁㨁䘭䘲䕳䪰䇶䢮䡻㮠䘭䘲䕳䪰䇶䪰䪰䕳䡻䩪䘲䘭㨁㮠㨁䶢䨹䘲䘭䕳㫁㨁䡻㮠䘭䘭㣾䕳㨁䇶䕳㮠䕳䪰䇶䘭䡻䶢䢮䩪㨁䶢䘲䇶䨹䩪䘲㮠䕳䩪䪰䘲㨁㱨㮠㹫㾲䕳㵒䘭䕳㱨䪰䩪䡻䘲㫁㨁䘲䘭䘲㨁䘭䍬㹫䘲䩪㹫㮠㞾㞾䶢䘭䕳㨁䍬䘭䕳䢮䩪䡻䪰䘲㹫䪰䩪䇶䕳䕳—㫁㨁䕳㨁㱨䘭㱨䶢㞾䕳䶢䡻䨹䘲䘭䡻䶢䘲䶢䘲㨁㮠㨁㨁㨁䨹䪰䇶䡻㞾䘲䟚䶢䇶䡻㐅䨹䩪䘭䩶䢮䩪䪰䇶㾲䡻䟚䡻䘲䕳䇶㨁䘭䡻䇶㨁䍬䘲䢮㹫䘲㹫㮠㨁䨹䕳䜑㞾

㵒䕳㾲 㾲䩪㹫㮠 䠚㹫䇶䟚㐅㨁䪰䘲 䟚㹫䡻䇶㨁 䘲䶢䡻䘭 䇶㨁㱨䡻䘭䡻䩪䪰㺠 䕳䪰䇶 㐅䕳㾲 䩪㹫㮠 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 䢮䡻䪰䇶 䘭䘲㮠㨁䪰䟚䘲䶢 䡻䪰 㹫䪰䡻䘲㾲 㮠䕳䘲䶢㨁㮠 䘲䶢䕳䪰 䇶䡻㣾䡻䘭䡻䩪䪰䩶"

㼥 䨹䕳㣾㨁 䩪䢮 㨁㞾䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰 䘭㫁㮠㨁䕳䇶 䘲䶢㮠䩪㹫䟚䶢 䘲䶢㨁 㮠䩪㾲䕳㞾 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲 㹫㫁䩪䪰 䶢㨁䕳㮠䡻䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁 㐅㨁䘭䘭䕳䟚㨁 䢮㮠䩪㐅 䬝㮠㨁䪰䩪㣾䕳㮠䩶

䨹䶢䩪䨹㨁㨁㮠䪰䕳䘲䪰䡻䩪㐅䡻䪰㹫䘲㨁䘭䕳䇶䪰䶢㨁䘲䕳㱨䘲䢮䘲䶢䕳䘲䡻䪰㹫䘲㞾䢮㨁䨹䢮䡻䩶㮠㨁䍬㞾䕳䟚㐅䡻䪰䓓䶢㨁䕳㨁䘭㨁㱨䇶䪰䡻㮠䡻㨁㨁㞾䢮䨹㨁㮠㨁㾲䪰㨁㨁㐅㫺㨁䇶㮠䡻㱨㺠䕳䟚䩪㞾㺠㫁䩪㨁㨁㫁䶢䕳䇶㮠㨁䪰㱨䠚䡻䩪䟚䡻䟚䪰䡻䶢䟚䡻䘭䘲䶢㨁䘲䕳

㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰 㱨䩪㹫㞾䇶䪰'䘲 䘭䘲䩪㫁 䶢䡻㐅䘭㨁㞾䢮 䢮㮠䩪㐅 䟚㮠䡻䪰䪰䡻䪰䟚 䘭㨁㨁䡻䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁 㫁䕳㞾㨁 㱨䩪㐅㫁㞾㨁㣩䡻䩪䪰 䩪䢮 䶢䡻䘭 䇶㨁䕳㮠 㨁㞾䇶㨁㮠 䍬㮠䩪䘲䶢㨁㮠䩶

䓓䶢㨁 䨹䕳㾲 䶢㨁 㞾䩪䩪䜑㨁䇶 䕳䘲 䘲䶢㨁 㐅㨁䘭䘭㨁䪰䟚㨁㮠 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䶢䡻䘭 㨁㾲㨁䘭 䨹䡻䇶㨁䪰㨁䇶 䨹䕳䘭 䕳 䘭䡻䟚䶢䘲 䨹䩪㮠䘲䶢 䘲䕳䜑䡻䪰䟚 䪰㹫㐅㨁㮠䩪㹫䘭 㫁䡻㱨䘲㹫㮠㨁䘭 䩪䢮䩶

䪰䕳㞾㫁䩪䢮㱨㾲㫁䢮䡻䕳䩶䘭䘭䟚㨁䕳㐅㨁㨁䘭䩪䶢䘲䕳䪰䩪䪰䘭䘭'㫁㮠䇶㨁䡻䕳䇶䶢㮠㛷㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠䨹䡻䘲䶢㨁䪰㨁㾲㐅㱨㱨㣾㨁䪰䩪䪰䡻䇶㨁䇶㨁䇶䡻䪰㫺㨁䇶㮠䘭䡻㱨'䩪䘲䇶䪰㼥䶢䘭䡻䘲䌩䶢㨁㨁㣾䕳䶢㨁䶢䘲䶢䩪䨹䨹㞾䘭㨁㨁䇶㞾䪰䡻䨹䘭㨁䩪䶢䩪㐅㹫䘭䪰䡻㼥䘲䪰㨁㨁䍬䕳䟚䪰䡻㮠㨁䶢䩪䢮㮠㨁㐅䕳䪰㨁䶢䘲㣾䪰㨁㮠䬝䕳䩶㮠䩪㨁㫁䩪㫁㞾㨁䡻䘭䡻㹫䕳䪰䘲䘲䩪㮠㾲㨁䘭䕳䩶䡻䶢䨹䘲䘭㱨䶢㨁䘲䩪㹫䘲䕳䘲䶢䘲㮠䇶㨁䪰䘲㹫䩪䪰㫁㹫

'㵑䩪㹫 䶢䕳㣾㨁 㐅䕳䇶㨁 㐅㨁 㫁㮠䩪㹫䇶㺠 㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰䩶䩶䩶'

䤄䡻䘲䶢 䕳 䘭㐅䡻㞾㨁㺠 㫺㨁䇶㮠䡻㱨 䘲䩪㞾䇶 䘲䶢㨁 㐅㨁䘭䘭㨁䪰䟚㨁㮠㺠 "䌩 䨹䡻㞾㞾 㨁㣩䘲㨁䪰䇶 㐅㾲 㮠㨁䘭㫁䩪䪰䘭㨁 䘭䩪䩪䪰䩶 㵑䩪㹫 㐅䕳㾲 㮠㨁䘲㹫㮠䪰 䪰䩪䨹䩶"

㨁䶢䓓䨹䕳䘭㣩㨁䪰㨁䘲䇶䶢㨁䘭䎍䡻㣾㨁䕳䟚䨹䕳䘭䢮㨁㮠䩪䍬㨁㨁䪰䟚䘭㨁㮠㨁㐅䘭䶢㨁䘲䜑䡻䕳䪰䘲䟚䕳䩶㞾㣾㨁㨁䠚㹫䘭䘲㨁䩪㞾㮠䢮䩪䘲䩶䩪䇶㞾䩪䘲䶢㨁䇶䡻䇶㫁㫁㞾䕳䘭㮠䩪䩪䘲㮠㱨㨁㹫䨹䶢䕳䘲䩪䍬㺠䨹䪰䕳䇶䘭䡻䶢䍬㮠䡻㨁䢮

㖷䪰㱨㨁 䶢㨁 䨹䕳䘭 䟚䩪䪰㨁㺠 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䡻䘲䡻䌔㨁䪰䘭 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䕳㞾䘭䩪 䘲䩪㞾䇶 䘲䩪 㞾㨁䕳㣾㨁 䘭䡻䪰㱨㨁 䘲䶢㨁 㐅䕳䘲䘲㨁㮠 䪰㨁㨁䇶㨁䇶 䘲䩪 䍬㨁 䇶䡻䘭㱨㹫䘭䘭㨁䇶 䕳㐅䩪䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪㹫䪰㱨䡻㞾䩶

㼥䪰䇶 䘲䶢䡻䘭 䘲䡻㐅㨁㺠 䘲䶢㨁 䟚㨁䪰㨁㮠䕳㞾 㫁㹫䍬㞾䡻㱨 䇶䡻䇶䪰'䘲 㫁㮠䩪䘲㨁䘭䘲 䘭䡻䪰㱨㨁 䘲䶢㨁㾲 䕳㞾㮠㨁䕳䇶㾲 䶢䕳䇶 䟚䕳䡻䪰㨁䇶 䕳䘭䘭㹫㮠䕳䪰㱨㨁 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢㨁㮠㨁 䨹䩪㹫㞾䇶 䍬㨁 䪰䩪 䨹䕳㮠 䕳䪰㾲㐅䩪㮠㨁䩶

㖷䪰㱨㨁

䪰㹫㱨㞾㱨䩪䡻䟚䩪䪰㨁㺠㮠㫁㫁㨁㹫䡻䪰䘲䶢㨁䪰㨁䘲䡻㮠䘭䡻㐅䘭䢮䩪㨁㮠㨁䨹㨁䶢䘲㞾䩪㾲䪰䪰㞾䩪䍬㨁䶢䘲㨁㹫䡻䡻䪰䇶䕳䇶㣾䡻䘭㞾㨁䶢䘲㮠䜑䕳䡻䪰䟚䪰䪰䕳䇶䘲䶢㾲㨁䩪䢮㮠䘲㹫䩶䩪㱨䟚䶢䡻䶢㮠㨁㐅䕳䡻䇶䪰㨁

"䓓䶢䡻䘭 䡻䘭 㹫䪰㨁㣩㫁㨁㱨䘲㨁䇶㺠 㵑䩪㹫㮠 㵒䕳䠚㨁䘭䘲㾲㺠 䍬㹫䘲 䌩 䘲䶢䡻䪰䜑 䨹㨁 䘭䶢䩪㹫㞾䇶 䡻㐅㐅㨁䇶䡻䕳䘲㨁㞾㾲 㮠㨁䘭㫁䩪䪰䇶 䘲䩪 䘲䶢㨁㐅 䡻䪰 䜑䡻䪰䇶䩶 䌩䢮 䘲䶢㨁㾲 䶢䕳䇶 㨁㣩䘲㨁䪰䇶㨁䇶 䕳 䢮㮠䡻㨁䪰䇶㞾㾲 㫁㮠䩪㫁䩪䘭䕳㞾㺠 䨹㨁 䪰㨁㣾㨁㮠 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䕳 䨹䕳㮠㓮㞾䩪㣾䡻䪰䟚 䘭䡻䇶㨁䩶" 㼥㮠䘲䶢㹫㮠 䘭㫁䩪䜑㨁㺠 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䘭㞾䡻䟚䶢䘲 㨁㣩㱨䡻䘲㨁㐅㨁䪰䘲 㮠㨁䢮㞾㨁㱨䘲䡻䪰䟚 䡻䪰 䶢䡻䘭 㣾䩪䡻㱨㨁䩶

䎍㨁 㱨䩪㹫㞾䇶䪰'䘲 䍬㨁 䕳䪰㾲 㐅䩪㮠㨁 㮠㨁㞾䡻㨁㣾㨁䇶 䘲䩪 䜑䪰䩪䨹 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢㨁 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䶢䕳䘭 䍬㨁㨁䪰 䘲䕳㮠䟚㨁䘲䡻䪰䟚 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠 䢮䩪㮠 䘭䩪 㞾䩪䪰䟚 䶢䕳䘭 䕳㱨䘲㹫䕳㞾㞾㾲 䘭㹫䟚䟚㨁䘭䘲㨁䇶 䕳 䘲㮠㹫㱨㨁䩶

䡻䶢䘭䩪䘲䢮䩪㨁䜑䩪㫁䘭㺠㞾䘭㨁㐅䡻䩪㺠㾲㹫䪰䕳䢮䜑㞾䶢䘲㹫㼥䪰"㺠㹫䘭䘲䡻䇶㨁䟚䘭㨁䕳䜑䘭䶢䪰䘲䡻㞾䟚䢮䪰䘲䡻䡻䩶䘭㞾㫁䘭䡻"䌩䘲䘲䶢㨁䶢㮠㼥㮠㹫䘲䕳㞾㞾

㼥㞾䘲䶢䩪㹫䟚䶢 䡻䘲 䨹䕳䘭 䶢䕳㮠䇶 䘲䩪 䘭䨹䕳㞾㞾䩪䨹 䢮䩪㮠 䘭䩪㐅㨁㺠 㞾䡻䜑㨁 䬝㹫䜑㨁 㫺䩪㮠䨹䩪䪰㺠 䡻䘲 䨹䕳䘭 䕳 䢮䕳㱨䘲 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢㨁 䩪䪰㨁 䨹䶢䩪 䍬㮠䩪㹫䟚䶢䘲 䘲䶢䡻䘭 㱨䶢䕳䪰䟚㨁 䡻䪰 䬝㮠㨁䪰䩪㣾䕳㮠'䘭 䕳䘲䘲䡻䘲㹫䇶㨁 䨹䕳䘭 䪰䩪䪰㨁 䩪䘲䶢㨁㮠 䘲䶢䕳䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䙥㨁㱨䩪䪰䇶 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁䩶

䓓䶢㨁 䘭䕳㐅㨁 㹫䘭㨁㞾㨁䘭䘭 䕳䪰䇶 䘲䕳㞾㨁䪰䘲㞾㨁䘭䘭 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 䨹䶢䩪㐅 㨁㣾㨁㮠㾲䩪䪰㨁 䘲䶢䩪㹫䟚䶢䘲 䨹䕳䘭 䕳 䘭㫁䩪䡻㞾䘲 䜑䡻䇶䩶

㵒'㾲㺠㱨㨁䕳䢮䘲㮠䶢䟚㹫䕳䇶㨁㐅䕳䪰㮠㨁䢮䡻䩶㞾㨁㨁䶢䓓䶢䩪㨁䘭㱨䩪䇶䡻䪰䇶'䘲䘭䡻䟚䶢䶢䡻㐅䩶䩶㹫䶢'䩶䶢䢮䩪㮠䡻䶢䘭䠚㹫䘲䘭㨁㣾䕳㨁䶢䇶䩪䢮

㫺㨁䇶㮠䡻㱨 䨹䕳䘭 䕳䍬䩪㹫䘲 䘲䩪 䘭䕳㾲 䘭䩪㐅㨁䘲䶢䡻䪰䟚 䨹䶢㨁䪰 䘭㹫䇶䇶㨁䪰㞾㾲㺠 "䤄㨁 䘭䶢䩪㹫㞾䇶䪰'䘲 䕳㱨㱨㨁㫁䘲 䘲䶢㨁䡻㮠 㫁㮠䩪㫁䩪䘭䕳㞾㡍" 㼥 䍬䩪䩪㐅䡻䪰䟚 㣾䩪䡻㱨㨁 㮠㨁䘭䩪䪰䕳䘲㨁䇶 䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲䩶

䓓䶢㨁 㫁㨁㮠䘭䩪䪰 䘭䡻㞾㨁䪰㱨㨁䇶 㨁㣾㨁㮠㾲䩪䪰㨁 䕳䘭 䶢㨁 䘭䘲䩪䩪䇶 䕳䘲 䶢䡻䘭 㫁㞾䕳㱨㨁 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䶢䡻䘭 䶢㨁䕳䇶 㞾㨁䕳䪰䡻䪰䟚 䇶䩪䨹䪰䩶

䇶㮠䩶䶢䙥䕳㨁䇶㺠䨹䩪㮠䢮䪰䘭䶢䡻䘲䘭䶢䡻㞾䕳䪰㣾䘲㨁䡻㫁㹫㵒䕳䡻䩪'䙥䩪䢮䘭䡻㨁䶢㣾㾲䕳㺠䢮䢮㱨㨁䘲㨁䢮㨁㞾䘲䘭䇶䘲㮠䕳䩶'䍬䕳䘲䶢㨁䕳䘭䘲㨁䘭䡻䪰䪰䩪䇶㨁䶢䕳䘭䕳䘭䇶㨁㹫䇶䪰䪰䡻䘲䘭㹫㼥㐅䕳䟚䜑䡻䪰㨁䶢䘭䶢䡻

㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 㱨䩪䪰䘲䡻䪰㹫㨁䇶㺠 "㽞䕳䘲䶢㨁㮠㺠 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䕳㞾㞾 㮠㨁䘭㫁㨁㱨䘲㺠 䨹㨁 䘭䶢䩪㹫㞾䇶䪰'䘲 䢮䩪㮠䟚㨁䘲 䨹䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢䩪䘭㨁 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 䶢䕳㣾㨁 䇶䩪䪰㨁 䘲䩪 㹫䘭䩶 㫺䩪䪰䘭䘲䕳䪰䘲㞾㾲 䘲䩪㮠㐅㨁䪰䘲䡻䪰䟚 䩪㹫㮠 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁㺠 䘭㞾䕳㹫䟚䶢䘲㨁㮠䡻䪰䟚 䘭䩪 㐅䕳䪰㾲 䘭䩪㞾䇶䡻㨁㮠䘭㺠 䕳䪰䇶 㐅䕳䜑䡻䪰䟚 䕳 䠚䩪䜑㨁 䩪㹫䘲 䩪䢮 㹫䘭 䡻䪰 䢮㮠䩪䪰䘲 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䨹䶢䩪㞾㨁 䨹䩪㮠㞾䇶䩶"

䓓䶢㨁 㣾䩪䡻㱨㨁 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䢮䡻㮠䘭䘲 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 㮠㨁䘭䩪䪰䕳䘲㨁䇶 䕳㱨㮠䩪䘭䘭 䘲䶢㨁 㮠䩪㾲䕳㞾 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲㺠 䘲䶢㨁 㨁䢮䢮㨁㱨䘲 䩪䢮 䙥䶢䕳㮠䇶 䨹䩪㮠䜑䡻䪰䟚 䩪䪰 䘲䶢䩪䘭㨁 㨁䢮䢮㨁㱨䘲䡻㣾㨁㞾㾲 䨹䶢䩪 䕳㞾㮠㨁䕳䇶㾲 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䡻䪰 䶢䡻䘭 䢮䕳㣾䩪㮠䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䡻䪰㱨㞾㹫䇶㨁䇶 䘲䶢㨁 䔖㹫㨁㨁䪰 䕳䘭 䨹㨁㞾㞾䩶

䡻䶢䘭㹫㨁㐅䩪㹫㮠䘭䪰㨁䘭䩪䶢䘲㺠㨁䜑䩪㫁䘭"䌩䘲䩪䨹䶢䩶㮠㾲㨁㨁㐅䩶䩶㣾㨁䩪䢮䕳䇶䪰䡻䶢䘭㣾䘭䡻䘲䡻䇶㫁䘭㮠㨁㨁䘭䪰䇶䕳䶢䘲䶢㨁䕳㨁䇶䶢䶢䘲㨁㨁䪰㣾㮠䘭㐅㡍䡻"䕳㾲䟚㨁㮠㣾䕳䇶㮠䍬䘲䩪䘭䘲㨁䩪㐅䘭䪰㨁䶢䘲䜑䡻㞾䇶㨁㞾㨁䡻䇶㞾䘭䩪䘭㮠䘭㨁㨁䘭䪰䡻䕳㫁㨁䘭䩪䶢䘲䍬㾲䨹㨁㮠㨁䘲䕳䟚䕳䡻䪰䘭䤄䡻䘲䶢䘭䡻㞾㣾㨁㮠㨁䡻䘲㐅䘲䢮㨁㞾䘲㱨㺠䶢㨁䘭

䓓㹫㮠䪰䡻䪰䟚 䶢䡻䘭 㮠㨁䇶䇶㨁䪰㨁䇶 㨁㾲㨁䘭 䘲䩪䨹䕳㮠䇶 䶢䡻䘭 䢮䕳䘲䶢㨁㮠㺠 䶢㨁 䕳䇶䇶㨁䇶㺠 "㼥䪰䇶 䪰䩪䨹 䘲䶢㨁㾲 䕳㮠㨁 䨹㨁䕳䜑㨁䪰㨁䇶 䍬㨁㱨䕳㹫䘭㨁 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䎍㨁㞾㞾䘭䘲䕳䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁㾲 䕳㮠㨁 䩪䢮䢮㨁㮠䡻䪰䟚 䕳 䶢㨁㞾㫁䡻䪰䟚 䶢䕳䪰䇶䱸㡍 㼥㐅 䌩 䘲䶢㨁 䩪䪰㞾㾲 䩪䪰㨁 䨹䶢䩪 㱨䕳䪰 䘭㨁㨁 䘲䶢㨁䡻㮠 䘲㮠㹫㨁 䢮䕳㱨㨁䱸"

䓓䶢㨁 㽞䡻㮠䘭䘲 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 䘲㹫㮠䪰㨁䇶 䕳㮠䩪㹫䪰䇶 䕳䪰䇶 㞾䩪䩪䜑㨁䇶 䕳䘲 䩪䘲䶢㨁㮠 㐅䡻䪰䡻䘭䘲㨁㮠䘭䩶 䙥䩪㐅㨁 䨹㨁㮠㨁 㞾䩪䨹㨁㮠䡻䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁䡻㮠 䶢㨁䕳䇶䘭 䕳䪰䇶 䘭䩪㐅㨁 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䪰䩪䇶䇶䡻䪰䟚 䡻䪰 䕳䘭䘭㨁䪰䘲䩶

䘭䕳䨹㾲㨁䶢䘲䨹䩪䪰䢮㨁䩪㮠䟚䘲䩪䘲䇶䕳䶢㮠䪰㨁䕳㣾㮠䬝䩪䇶㞾䘲㹫䩪'䶢䘭䪰䕳䘲䘲䶢㨁䘲䍬䩶㹫䩶䩶㮠䘲㹫㱨䘲㨁㺠㐅䶢䕳䘲䘲䶢䘲䌩㨁䡻䪰䇶䇶㨁䨹䶢䕳䘲䕳䕳㞾㮠㾲䇶㨁㱨䡻㨁㮠䪰㵊䕳㐅㾲䪰䕳䶢䇶䘲䶢䘭䡻䪰䩪䢮㞾㨁䪰䡻䡻㱨䇶䘲䘲䘭㮠䡻䢮㮠㨁䪰䇶㐅䡻䇶㨁㨁㹫㮠䘲䕳䟚㮠䇶㨁㨁䘲䶢㨁䶢䘲㨁㐅䩶

䎍䩪䨹㨁㣾㨁㮠㺠 䨹䶢䡻㞾㨁 䘲㨁䪰䘭 䩪䢮 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䡻䪰 䕳䟚㮠㨁㨁㐅㨁䪰䘲 䨹䡻䘲䶢 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰㺠 䘲䶢㨁㮠㨁 䨹㨁㮠㨁 䕳 䢮㨁䨹 䨹䶢䩪 䇶䡻䇶䪰'䘲 䕳䟚㮠㨁㨁 䨹䡻䘲䶢 䶢䡻㐅䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䩪䪰㨁 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁㐅 䨹䕳䘭 䘲䶢㨁 㵊㮠䡻㐅㨁 㵒䡻䪰䡻䘭䘲㨁㮠㺠

"䤄㨁 䕳㞾䘭䩪 䶢䕳㣾㨁 䇶䕳㐅䕳䟚㨁䇶 䘲䶢㨁䡻㮠 䢮䩪㮠㱨㨁䘭䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䡻䘲'䘭 䕳 䢮䕳㱨䘲 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁 㫁䕳䘭䘲 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠 䢮䕳䡻㞾㨁䇶 䘲䩪 㫁㮠䩪䘲㨁㱨䘲 䘲䶢㨁 㦣䡻䪰䟚 䕳䪰䇶 䔖㹫㨁㨁䪰 䩪䢮 䬝㮠㨁䪰䩪㣾䕳㮠䩶 䤄㨁 䘭䶢䩪㹫㞾䇶 䪰䩪䘲 㞾㨁䘲 䩪㹫㮠 㫁䕳䘭䘲 䟚㮠䡻㨁㣾䕳䪰㱨㨁䘭 䡻䪰䢮㞾㹫㨁䪰㱨㨁 䩪㹫㮠 䢮㹫䘲㹫㮠㨁䩶"

䘲䶢䩪䘭㨁䘲䶢䡻䨹䨹䩪䶢䙥䡻㮠䡻䶢䘭䶢䡻䘭䇶㨁㱨㨁䡻㣾䡻䪰䟚䶢㨁䘲䘭㨁䍬䜑䘭䇶䕳㨁㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰䘭䕳䩪㵑㹫"䩪㨁㫁㞾㫁㨁㮠䢮䶢䇶㨁䕳䩪㨁㼥㮠䘲䶢㹫㮠䱸䘲䶢㨁䘭䜑䨹䪰䩪㺠䘭䶢䜑䩪㱨㱨䕳䪰㣾䇶䩪㨁㱨㨁㮠㾲䪰䘭䕳䡻䟚䍬"㨁䱸䶢䘲䕳䘲㺠䪰䕳䇶㵑㺠䩪㹫㞾䘭㾲䪰䡻㨁㮠䕳䇶䪰䕳䶢䩪䶢䨹

䤄䡻䘲䶢 䕳 䘭䪰䕳㮠㞾㺠 䘲䶢㨁 䢮䡻㮠䘭䘲 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 䕳䇶䇶㨁䇶㺠 "䓓䶢㨁㾲 䨹䡻㞾㞾 㨁㣩䘲㨁䪰䇶 䕳 䢮㮠䡻㨁䪰䇶㞾㾲 䶢䕳䪰䇶 䘲䩪䇶䕳㾲 䕳䪰䇶 䘭䘲䕳䍬 㹫䘭 䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䍬䕳㱨䜑 䘲䩪㐅䩪㮠㮠䩪䨹䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䕳䘲 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䡻㐅㨁 䨹䶢㨁䪰 䨹㨁 䨹䩪㹫㞾䇶 䍬㨁 䕳䘲 䩪㹫㮠 㐅䩪䘭䘲 㣾㹫㞾䪰㨁㮠䕳䍬㞾㨁 㫁䶢䕳䘭㨁䩶"

㒈䩪䨹 㐅䕳䪰㾲 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁㺠 䩪㮠 䘲䩪 䘭䕳㾲㺠 䕳㫁䕳㮠䘲 䢮㮠䩪㐅 䢮䩪㹫㮠 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 䡻䪰 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲㺠 㨁㣾㨁㮠㾲䩪䪰㨁 䨹䕳䘭 㹫䪰䇶㨁㮠 䘲䶢㨁 䡻䪰䢮㞾㹫㨁䪰㱨㨁 䩪䢮 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰'䘭 䨹䩪㮠䇶䘭 䕳䪰䇶 䶢䡻䘭 䘭䜑䡻㞾㞾䩶

䶢䡻䘭㹫䙥㨁㮠㨁㫁㐅䘲㮠䡻䘲䶢㾲㹫䩪㼥䍬䇶㨁䶢䡻䪰䩪䢮㮠㨁㨁䍬䪰䇶䡻㼥㨁䶢䡻䘭䘭䶢䡻㺠㱨䕳䜑䍬䨹䘲䶢䡻䶢䘲㨁㨁䶢䪰䟚㨁䕳㱨䇶㞾䢮䩪㮠䘲䪰㺠㨁㐅䩪㐅䘲䨹䇶㮠䕳䩪䘲䕳䩪㮠䍬㨁㮠䘲䶢䇶㞾㨁䶢䪰䘭䇶䕳䶢㹫䩪䟚㾲䪰㨁㮠䪰䘲㨁㹫㮠䇶

"㵑䩪㹫㮠 㵒䕳䠚㨁䘭䘲㾲㺠 䕳䘭 䘲䶢㨁 䶢㨁䡻㮠 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䢮䕳㐅䡻㞾㾲 䕳䪰䇶 䘲䶢㨁 䢮䡻㮠䘭䘲 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰㺠 䌩 䘭䶢䩪䨹 㐅㾲 㱨㞾㨁䕳㮠 㮠㨁䘭䡻䘭䘲䕳䪰㱨㨁 䘲䩪䨹䕳㮠䇶 䘲䶢䡻䘭 䘲㮠㹫㱨㨁䩶 䌩 䕳㐅 䘭䕳㾲䡻䪰䟚 䢮䩪㮠 䘭㹫㮠㨁 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢䡻䘭 䕳䟚㮠㨁㨁㐅㨁䪰䘲 䨹䡻㞾㞾 䩪䪰㞾㾲 㱨䕳㹫䘭㨁 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠 䶢䕳㮠㐅䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䕳䘭 䕳 㵊㮠䡻䪰㱨㨁㺠 䌩 㱨䕳䪰䪰䩪䘲 㞾㨁䘲 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䶢䕳㫁㫁㨁䪰䩶"

䙥䡻㞾㨁䪰㱨㨁 㨁䪰䘭㹫㨁䇶 䕳䢮䘲㨁㮠 䘲䶢䕳䘲䩶

㨁䶢㞾䇶㨁䇶䡻㼥䪰䩪㨁㾲㮠㛷㣾㨁䪰䘭䨹䕳䘲䡻䶢䨹䕳䘲㹫䘲䶢䩪㮠䡻㾲䪰䡻䘲䕳䶢䨹䨹䶢䩪䪰㨁䕳䘲䟚㨁㐅㨁㮠䩪㮠䘭㫁㫁䩶䩪䇶㨁

䓓䶢㨁䡻㮠 㨁㾲㨁䘭 䨹㨁㮠㨁 㱨㞾䩪㹫䇶㨁䇶 䍬㾲 䘲䶢㨁 䍬㨁㞾䡻㨁䢮 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䢮䩪㞾㞾䩪䨹䡻䪰䟚 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 䨹䕳䘭 䘲䶢㨁 䩪䪰㞾㾲 䨹䕳㾲 䢮䩪㮠 㛷㮠㾲䪰䇶䩪㮠 䘲䩪 䘭㹫㮠㣾䡻㣾㨁䩶

㛷㣾㨁䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䔖㹫㨁㨁䪰 䶢䕳䇶 䕳 䢮䡻㮠㐅 㨁㣩㫁㮠㨁䘭䘭䡻䩪䪰 㹫㫁䩪䪰 䶢㨁䕳㮠䡻䪰䟚 䶢㨁㮠 䘭䩪䪰'䘭 䨹䩪㮠䇶䘭䩶

㮠䩪䟚䪰䨹䶢㣾䕳㨁䶢䘲㨁㞾㨁䘲䡻䕳䪰䟚䕳䍬䡻䘭䡻㱨䪰䩶䩶䘲㨁㹫䩶䇶䩪㮠䍬㮠㨁䶢䩪䘲㹫䩪㮠㾲䩪䨹䘲䪰'䇶䕳㨁㐅䩪㱨䪰㨁㞾㞾'䩶䢮䕳㹫䘭㹫䩶䩶㾲'䩶䡻㼥䘭㹫䪰䩪䘲

䓓䶢㨁 䨹䶢䩪㞾㨁 䘭䡻䘲㹫䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰 䨹䕳䘭 䢮㞾䡻㫁㫁㨁䇶 䨹䡻䘲䶢䡻䪰 㐅䡻䪰㹫䘲㨁䘭䩶

䱳㹫䘭䘲 䕳 䢮㨁䨹 㐅䡻䪰㹫䘲㨁䘭 䕳䟚䩪㺠 㨁㣾㨁㮠㾲䩪䪰㨁 䨹䕳䘭 㨁㞾䕳䘲㨁䇶 䍬㾲 䘲䶢㨁 䢮䕳㱨䘲 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䘲䶢㨁 㞾䩪䪰䟚 㮠䡻㣾䕳㞾㮠㾲 䍬㨁䘲䨹㨁㨁䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䘲䨹䩪 䪰䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰䘭 䨹䕳䘭 䢮䡻䪰䕳㞾㞾㾲 㱨䩪㐅䡻䪰䟚 䘲䩪 䕳䪰 㨁䪰䇶䩶

䶢㨁䘲䇶䪰㼥䶢䡻䘲䘭䩪䨹䶢㞾㹫䘭㹫㮠㱨䡻㐅䩪䕳䘲䡻䪰䡻䩪㞾㫺㹫㱨䙥㨁䇶䪰㱨䩪䘭䨹䘲䕳䪰'䘲䕳䶢䘲䍬㮠䶢䟚䩪䘲㹫㨁㱨䪰䡻㮠㵊䌩䘲䘲䪰㨁䇶䢮㮠㨁䡻㮠㨁䩶䨹䕳䘭㱨㨁䶢䪰䕳䩶䟚䘲䘲䶢䕳䘲䶢㨁

䎍䩪䨹㨁㣾㨁㮠㺠 䘲䶢㨁 䘭䡻䘲㹫䕳䘲䡻䩪䪰 㱨䶢䕳䪰䟚㨁䇶 䢮䕳䘭䘲㨁㮠 䘲䶢䕳䪰 䘲䶢㨁 䨹㨁䕳䘲䶢㨁㮠䩶

'䙥䩪㮠㮠㾲 㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰㺠 䍬㹫䘲 䌩 㱨䕳䪰'䘲 㞾㨁䘲 㾲䩪㹫 䍬㨁㱨䩪㐅㨁 䘲䶢㨁 䪰㨁䨹 䢮䕳㣾䩪㮠䡻䘲㨁~~'

䘲䶢䩪㹫䟚䶢䘲䇶㨁䘲䪰㨁㨁㮠䩪䪰㹫䢮㞾㣾䕳䍬㨁䕳㮠䘭䱳㹫䘲䶢㨁䶢䘲㨁䡻䘲㺠䘭䘲䩪㹫䡻䪰䕳䕳䘭䇶㨁䘭㫁䡻䘲㨁䪰㼥㨁䡻䇶䘲䶢㨁㨁䘭䩪㨁㐅䩪䪰䕳䶢䇶䟚㨁䕳䪰䇶䡻㣾䡻㱨㾲䘲䩪㮠㱨㮠䘲䩪㺠㹫㮠䕳㾲䩪㞾

䗡㫺㞾䕳㫁䗡 䗡㫺㞾䕳㫁䗡

㛷㣾㨁㮠㾲 㨁㾲㨁 䘲㹫㮠䪰㨁䇶 䘲䩪䨹䕳㮠䇶 䘲䶢㨁 㫁㨁㮠䘭䩪䪰 䨹䶢䩪 䨹䕳㞾䜑㨁䇶 䡻䪰䘭䡻䇶㨁䩶

䘲䕳㨁䪰㾲㞾䘲䶢㨁䶢䕳䡻㮠㺠䘲䶢㨁䶢䩪䨹䪰䕳㐅䟚䪰㦣䡻䩶㨁䕳䡻䟚㮠䤄䪰䇶䍬㱨㨁䩪㐅㨁㾲䩪㨁㨁㣾㮠䪰䡻䇶䘲䡻㨁䪰䘲㾲㾲䟚㨁㮠䘲䶢㨁䕳䪰䇶䪰䩪㨁㱨䩪䢮䜑㱨䍬䕳㞾䡻㹫䘲䘭㨁䘭䇶㣾㮠㨁㨁䡻㨁㮠㨁㫁䶢㨁㱨䘲㓮䪰䜑㨁䨹

䙥㨁䍬䕳䘭䘲䡻䕳䪰 㱨䩪㹫㞾䇶 䍬㨁 䘭㨁㨁䪰 䡻䪰 䕳䪰 㹫䪰䪰䕳䘲㹫㮠䕳㞾 㐅䩪䩪䇶䩶 㼥 䘭㐅䡻㞾㨁 䩪䪰 䶢䡻䘭 䢮䕳㱨㨁 䍬㹫䘲 䘲䶢㨁 㐅䕳䪰'䘭 㨁㾲㨁䘭 䨹㨁㮠㨁䪰'䘲 䘭㐅䡻㞾䡻䪰䟚 䕳䘲 䕳㞾㞾䩶

"䙥㨁䍬䕳䘭䘲䡻䕳䪰䩶䩶䩶" 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 㱨䕳㞾㞾㨁䇶 䩪㹫䘲㺠 䶢䡻䘭 䘲䩪䪰㨁 㱨䕳㮠㮠㾲䡻䪰䟚 䍬䡻䘲䘲㨁㮠䪰㨁䘭䘭䩶

䘲㮠䡻䢮䘭㮠㨁㱨䪰㵊䡻䕳䘭䘭䡻䶢㨁䡻䘭䇶㨁䍬䘲䩪䘭䩪䇶㨁䶢䓓䟚㮠䪰䡻䇶㨁䩪㹫䍬㨁䘲㞾㮠㾲䩪䟚㹫䪰䘲䶢㨁㺠㹫䩪䘲㨁䶢䕳㞾䪰䡻㱨㞾䟚䘲䘭䕳㐅㮠㨁㺠䍬㨁㨁㮠䢮䩪

"䌩 䶢䩪㫁㨁䇶㺠 㵑䩪㹫㮠 㵒䕳䠚㨁䘭䘲㾲䩶䩶䩶䶢䩪㫁㨁䇶 䘲䶢䕳䘲 㵑䩪㹫䪰䟚 㵒䕳䘭䘲㨁㮠 㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰 䶢䕳䘭 䕳 㐅䡻䘭㱨䩪䪰㱨㨁㫁䘲䡻䩪䪰 䕳䍬䩪㹫䘲 䶢䡻䘭 䍬㮠䩪䘲䶢㨁㮠䩶 䓓䶢䕳䘲㺠 㵑䩪㹫㮠 䎍䡻䟚䶢䪰㨁䘭䘭 㼥䡻䇶㨁䪰 䡻䘭䪰'䘲 䘲䶢㨁 㐅䕳䪰 䶢㨁 䍬㨁㞾䡻㨁㣾㨁䇶 䶢䡻㐅 䘲䩪 䍬㨁䩶 䌩 䶢䩪㫁㨁䇶 䘲䶢䕳䘲 䌩 㱨䩪㹫㞾䇶 䶢㨁㞾㫁 㮠㨁䍬㹫䡻㞾䇶 䘲䶢䡻䘭 䢮䕳㐅䡻㞾㾲 䘭䩪㐅㨁䶢䩪䨹䩶"

䤄䡻䘲䶢 䶢䡻䘭 㨁㾲㨁䘭 䘲㹫㮠䪰䡻䪰䟚 䢮㮠䩪䘭䘲㾲㺠 䘲䶢㨁 㐅䕳䪰 䕳䇶䇶㨁䇶㺠 "䎍䩪䨹㨁㣾㨁㮠㺠 䕳䢮䘲㨁㮠 䨹䶢䕳䘲 䌩 䨹䡻䘲䪰㨁䘭䘭㨁䇶 䘲䩪䇶䕳㾲㺠 䌩 㱨䕳䪰 䪰䩪 㞾䩪䪰䟚㨁㮠 䘭䘲䕳㾲 䘭䡻㞾㨁䪰䘲 䕳䪰䇶 㞾㨁䘲 䘲䶢䡻䘭 㱨䩪䪰䘲䡻䪰㹫㨁䩶"

㫁䕳䪰䙥䗡䗡

㼥䘭 䶢㨁 䘭䪰䕳㫁㫁㨁䇶 䶢䡻䘭 䢮䡻䪰䟚㨁㮠䘭㺠 䕳 䢮㨁䨹 㐅䩪㮠㨁 㫁㨁䩪㫁㞾㨁 㨁䪰䘲㨁㮠㨁䇶 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲䩶

㼥㹫䘭䘲䡻䪰 䨹䕳䘭 䘭㹫㮠㫁㮠䡻䘭㨁䇶 䘲䩪 䢮䡻䪰䇶 㙼䶢㨁䕳 䕳䪰䇶 㙼㹫䇶䩪㞾㫁䶢 㨁䪰䘲㨁㮠䡻䪰䟚 䘲䶢㨁 㱨䩪㹫㮠䘲䩶 㼥䪰䇶 䪰䩪䘲 䠚㹫䘭䘲 䘲䶢㨁㐅㺠 䘲䶢㨁㮠㨁 䨹䕳䘭 䘲䶢㨁 䣲䡻㱨㨁㓮䶢㨁䕳䇶㐅䕳䘭䘲㨁㮠 䩪䢮 䘲䶢㨁 㼥㱨䕳䇶㨁㐅㾲 䕳䘭 䨹㨁㞾㞾䩶

䨹䕳䘭䩪䶢䨹䕳䇶㱨㼥㾲㨁䩶㐅䶢㨁㨁䶢䘲䘭䕳㨁㐅䩪䘲䘲䶢㨁㫁䡻䪰䩪㱨㐅㣩㨁䩪㞾䩪㫁㨁㮠䘭䪰㨁䶢䘲䇶䡻'䘭㨁㼥䪰䩪㺠㨁䨹㣾㮠䎍㨁䶢㱨䕳䟚㨁䪰䘭㱨㹫䇶㨁䕳䘭䩪㨁㞾䇶㮠䡻䘲䩪䘭㨁䘲䪰

䎍㨁 䨹䕳䘭 䘭䘲䡻㞾㞾 䕳㞾䡻㣾㨁㡍

'㵒䩪㮠䜑㨁㞾䩶䩶䩶䩶㾲䩪㹫 䕳䗡䘭䶢䩪㞾㨁㡍㡍㡍㡍'

°°°°°°°°

㼥䋌㒈㹄㓮 䬝䕳㐅䪰㺠 㵒䩪㮠䜑㨁㞾 㫁㞾䕳㾲㨁䇶 䡻䘲 䨹㨁㞾㞾䩶 䬝㮠䩪㫁 䕳 㱨䩪㐅㐅㨁䪰䘲䩶䩶

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