Play with Mad Scientists!
There's a lot of blood in the mud. There is often a mixture of manure and piss in the mud and the boiling organs of maggots on the verge of rotting.
I'm sure the tears are mixed, and I think I'm tired. I cried and wept that I didn't want to die. It's a tear that mourns your fate. It's a tear that reminds me of my hometown and my loved ones.
countryside. It is still too early to harvest, but no rice remains to be pruned by the soldiers of neighbouring countries who attacked this territory. It is a classic act of plunder in this era, which for the attacked side becomes one stone and two birds: the mowing of the fields - abbreviated as mowing the fields - the soldiers who attacked get their food and the enemy lands they attacked lose their food and suffer.
A good number of bodies were buried in such fields of mud.
Tired of falling in the mud is also likely to be mistaken for a corpse at first glance. It is at the extreme of fatigue and hunger, it has just fallen, and there is nothing else in life. I haven't suffered any major injuries.
Someone is approaching. I thought it was a fallen warrior hunt, but soon I can tell it's not. I can tell by the signs. I can tell by the smell. He who is most admired by tiredness.
"Hey. Tired... Tired..."
A voice is called, and when I look up, a long-haired samurai wearing armor peeks into me, just like tired.
"I'm tired. Is he alive?
"Yes...... Your head... Live...... Hehe..."
I look up at the soothing smile of a thinker illuminated by the sunset, tired out of joy and relief, so that I can follow and laugh.
He was a samurai with hair tied in the back of his head, not wearing a helmet. He has a stern face, a height slightly higher than tiredness, but is a great muscular figure with no waste of meat.
"One day when you die... on the battlefield like this... you'll be destined to scatter, but not yet then... it didn't seem"
"Really? I'm sorry. How to screw that up. It's a good place to get dirty. Well, that means we lost after all. I'm gonna die right on the tatami."
Looking up at the sunset sky, the hairy samurai - your head speaks of a death different from the form of tiredness desired.
"Ha ha, the mountains are burning - right. Nice view. Do you want to paint?
Skies and mountains dyed red by sunset, and massive corpses rolling innumerably into the countryside that became a battlefield at the foot of the mountain, as well as swarms of crowds of whales. I do find it tiring when it comes to painting.
But at the heart of them, I feel tired that there is someone I sincerely think of as the best structure.
Head to watch the sunset with a bottle on his mouth and drink the whiskers inside. I want to burn that figure in my eyes, in my memory. I think so strongly.
"Your head... you're not very good at painting..."
"Oh, I am. But you're more picturesque than me, and you're better than me, and when the battle's over, why don't you try painting?
"Your head is... if you say..."
Tired of smiling embarrassingly. From this moment on, tiredness began to paint little by little.
That was over 500 years ago.
Shizuno Jinnai was an elderly member of the clan along the sea.
One day inside the formation heard reports of an inhuman wreck launching and headed for an inspection with more than a dozen people in the house.
The shores of the scene were overflowing with inhabitants gathered driven by interest. Some of them were undelivered about fishing for artifacts, but were severely punished for theft.
The task of laying your troubles and arranging the bodies removed from the ship. The inhabitants are curious to see the remains of those who look different from themselves.
Inmates approach and observe the remains.
"Brown hair, is this gold? White skin. And many have higher back lengths than us. Even the color of your eyes is different."
The inmates, starting with the Inhumans, squeal intriguingly.
"Here are treasures and rarities."
Encouraged by the clan, the line goes out of the ship, in front of the goods in the middle of being arranged, and drops his eyes.
"Everything but the goldsmith's seems like a rarity."
I somehow know the kind of figurine ornaments, but I couldn't find value in the team, which is not even a favorite of collecting rare items, due to the impression that they are all unknown objects.
"Hey! One kid, he's still alive! Get the doctor out of here!
A dozen junior samurai from the ship show up and scream out loud. Those who wore shipwreck sights all at once.
Outside the ship, one pale blonde toddler is carried out. Are you still three or four years old or something?
(What a beautiful child... This is something I would very much like my family to adopt)
Seeing as the doctor was seeing an unconscious child, the line was distracted at a glance.
"I don't see any trauma. Your mother did hold you, didn't she?
"Yes."
A junior samurai nods to confirm an old doctor.
"I defended my child with my life. I wish I could grow up to be a good girl."
The doctor sincerely hopes so, but the wish is not met. Though I will grow up.
At that time, the child opens his eyes and his emerald eyes glow.
Inland breathes and roars unexpectedly.
"Maman......?
A child looks around and utters a single voice.
"I don't know what the Inhumans say... is there any way to get a name? One is within Shizuno Formation. Jinnai."
A formation that points to itself and names itself. Then point your finger at the child.
"Louis......"
It seemed to pass to the child, who also imitated the formation and uttered a name-like word.
"Do you know the Lord's name?
When you point your finger at the child and confirm, the child nods small.
(Thinking ahead, I feel heavy. We have to let him face to face with a lined corpse and say goodbye to his parents, who will probably be in it)
That's what I thought, and the line held up the child I named Ruyi as he looked sad.
That's more than 500 years old, too.
In my dreams, the truth meets. with myself in different shapes. My soul is the same, but with myself who thinks and personalities differently.
The man, sitting horseshit on a tatami, was a long-haired wild samurai wrapped in armor. He has a tough, masculine face and always has a grin on his mouth like he ate a person. But I don't feel bad.
In the three previous lives of myself, it was always this man I met. It was this martial artist who first showed up. The reason is because this man is closest to me. When it was compatible, this man - and his residual ideas of previous life with the same soul - spoke so.
"I like you, but there's only one complication."
A martial artist who spills bitter laughter.
"I'm going to use that one that tormented me. It's ironic...... I didn't like the big one. It was the big one.
"Is that it?"
"It's the mon you always let go. It's a dirty weapon."
True to realize that what the samurai are giving is about guns.
"Hey... it's you... Never forget how you feel now. Don't bend yourself."
A warrior suddenly takes a serious look and talks.
"Are you going to come at me because of something you haven't done in your last life? You think you can't escape that fate?
Truth is, I remember the words this man used to say in his dreams.
"You wouldn't even break my heart to the truth that I'm just kidding about to find out before it's too far. Whatever you do, you're me - I wish I could believe you."
Later, he tried to overlap words further, but was obstructed. After watching all the interactions in my dreams, there are those who are inconvenient to truly know the truth and what this samurai, who is in his previous life, knows.
I really know who that is. At that time when the warriors tried to tell themselves the truth, they did feel the truth that the obstructors were themselves again.
"Yes... even cruel... this bullshit truth. It's a good place to get dirty. You'll find out someday. You can't run, and you won't. I hate to think you can't stand it... I'm still worried about you."
"I thought it was a very annoying thing to be reincarnated. I was repellent. Besides, I'm dressed like this. [M] It's Snow Oka's fault. That's why I'm not going to blame Snow Oka. On the contrary... I don't know what kind of nasty truth there is, but if anything harms Snow Oka, I want to protect Snow Oka."
"I wonder why reincarnation erases memories because I'm sure memories from previous lives are in the way. A lot of people don't want to know about memories of their past lives, do they? I'm not who I am anymore."
"At least I was. I found it very annoying. I'm tired and Yukioka are pushing me through my last life, so I don't need it. Some of them always have me in my past life. So conscious and troublesome."
"It was - huh. It's the past."
That's all we talked about, and the samurai laugh.
"Oh, not now. A lot happened, and I changed my mind. And the way I feel... changed."
True to stare at the samurai and tell them how honest you feel.
"I want to know now. About myself in my previous life. The truth and the truth."
"Now you can't tell me if you want to. It's inconvenient from him, so he's getting in the way. But when the time comes, you'll find out from his mouth."
"Who's that guy?
To the true question, the martial artist turns into a grumpy face, pointing next to him with his thumb.
Another person showed up there.
Grey loose robe. Likewise, the gray tip breaks the head. A wooden wand twisted like a dull tip. White youth dressed like wizards. Straight stretched blonde hair reached her waist and her eyes, with their mysterious and demonic glow, were the same as what the truth sees every day.
I know who that is. I am like no other. This is also who I was in my previous life. And I understood. It's - it's this guy who's really inconvenient to be known the truth at the moment.
At the moment when the wizard-style youth had an elegant grin on their delicate and borderline beauty, the truth instinctively remembered fear and anger strongly at the same time, awakening consciousness.
That's the story now.
Chapter 1980: 1980 Three Preambles
I'm sure the tears are mixed, and I think I'm tired. I cried and wept that I didn't want to die. It's a tear that mourns your fate. It's a tear that reminds me of my hometown and my loved ones.
countryside. It is still too early to harvest, but no rice remains to be pruned by the soldiers of neighbouring countries who attacked this territory. It is a classic act of plunder in this era, which for the attacked side becomes one stone and two birds: the mowing of the fields - abbreviated as mowing the fields - the soldiers who attacked get their food and the enemy lands they attacked lose their food and suffer.
A good number of bodies were buried in such fields of mud.
Tired of falling in the mud is also likely to be mistaken for a corpse at first glance. It is at the extreme of fatigue and hunger, it has just fallen, and there is nothing else in life. I haven't suffered any major injuries.
Someone is approaching. I thought it was a fallen warrior hunt, but soon I can tell it's not. I can tell by the signs. I can tell by the smell. He who is most admired by tiredness.
"Hey. Tired... Tired..."
A voice is called, and when I look up, a long-haired samurai wearing armor peeks into me, just like tired.
"I'm tired. Is he alive?
"Yes...... Your head... Live...... Hehe..."
I look up at the soothing smile of a thinker illuminated by the sunset, tired out of joy and relief, so that I can follow and laugh.
He was a samurai with hair tied in the back of his head, not wearing a helmet. He has a stern face, a height slightly higher than tiredness, but is a great muscular figure with no waste of meat.
"One day when you die... on the battlefield like this... you'll be destined to scatter, but not yet then... it didn't seem"
"Really? I'm sorry. How to screw that up. It's a good place to get dirty. Well, that means we lost after all. I'm gonna die right on the tatami."
Looking up at the sunset sky, the hairy samurai - your head speaks of a death different from the form of tiredness desired.
"Ha ha, the mountains are burning - right. Nice view. Do you want to paint?
Skies and mountains dyed red by sunset, and massive corpses rolling innumerably into the countryside that became a battlefield at the foot of the mountain, as well as swarms of crowds of whales. I do find it tiring when it comes to painting.
But at the heart of them, I feel tired that there is someone I sincerely think of as the best structure.
Head to watch the sunset with a bottle on his mouth and drink the whiskers inside. I want to burn that figure in my eyes, in my memory. I think so strongly.
"Your head... you're not very good at painting..."
"Your head is... if you say..."
Tired of smiling embarrassingly. From this moment on, tiredness began to paint little by little.
That was over 500 years ago.
Shizuno Jinnai was an elderly member of the clan along the sea.
One day inside the formation heard reports of an inhuman wreck launching and headed for an inspection with more than a dozen people in the house.
The shores of the scene were overflowing with inhabitants gathered driven by interest. Some of them were undelivered about fishing for artifacts, but were severely punished for theft.
The task of laying your troubles and arranging the bodies removed from the ship. The inhabitants are curious to see the remains of those who look different from themselves.
Inmates approach and observe the remains.
"Brown hair, is this gold? White skin. And many have higher back lengths than us. Even the color of your eyes is different."
The inmates, starting with the Inhumans, squeal intriguingly.
"Here are treasures and rarities."
Encouraged by the clan, the line goes out of the ship, in front of the goods in the middle of being arranged, and drops his eyes.
"Everything but the goldsmith's seems like a rarity."
I somehow know the kind of figurine ornaments, but I couldn't find value in the team, which is not even a favorite of collecting rare items, due to the impression that they are all unknown objects.
"Hey! One kid, he's still alive! Get the doctor out of here!
A dozen junior samurai from the ship show up and scream out loud. Those who wore shipwreck sights all at once.
Outside the ship, one pale blonde toddler is carried out. Are you still three or four years old or something?
(What a beautiful child... This is something I would very much like my family to adopt)
Seeing as the doctor was seeing an unconscious child, the line was distracted at a glance.
"Yes."
A junior samurai nods to confirm an old doctor.
"I defended my child with my life. I wish I could grow up to be a good girl."
The doctor sincerely hopes so, but the wish is not met. Though I will grow up.
At that time, the child opens his eyes and his emerald eyes glow.
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"What beautiful eyes..."Inland breathes and roars unexpectedly.
"Maman......?
A child looks around and utters a single voice.
"I don't know what the Inhumans say... is there any way to get a name? One is within Shizuno Formation. Jinnai."
A formation that points to itself and names itself. Then point your finger at the child.
"Louis......"
It seemed to pass to the child, who also imitated the formation and uttered a name-like word.
"Do you know the Lord's name?
When you point your finger at the child and confirm, the child nods small.
(Thinking ahead, I feel heavy. We have to let him face to face with a lined corpse and say goodbye to his parents, who will probably be in it)
That's what I thought, and the line held up the child I named Ruyi as he looked sad.
That's more than 500 years old, too.
In my dreams, the truth meets. with myself in different shapes. My soul is the same, but with myself who thinks and personalities differently.
In the three previous lives of myself, it was always this man I met. It was this martial artist who first showed up. The reason is because this man is closest to me. When it was compatible, this man - and his residual ideas of previous life with the same soul - spoke so.
"I like you, but there's only one complication."
A martial artist who spills bitter laughter.
"I'm going to use that one that tormented me. It's ironic...... I didn't like the big one. It was the big one.
"Is that it?"
"It's the mon you always let go. It's a dirty weapon."
True to realize that what the samurai are giving is about guns.
"Hey... it's you... Never forget how you feel now. Don't bend yourself."
A warrior suddenly takes a serious look and talks.
"Are you going to come at me because of something you haven't done in your last life? You think you can't escape that fate?
Truth is, I remember the words this man used to say in his dreams.
"You wouldn't even break my heart to the truth that I'm just kidding about to find out before it's too far. Whatever you do, you're me - I wish I could believe you."
Later, he tried to overlap words further, but was obstructed. After watching all the interactions in my dreams, there are those who are inconvenient to truly know the truth and what this samurai, who is in his previous life, knows.
I really know who that is. At that time when the warriors tried to tell themselves the truth, they did feel the truth that the obstructors were themselves again.
"Yes... even cruel... this bullshit truth. It's a good place to get dirty. You'll find out someday. You can't run, and you won't. I hate to think you can't stand it... I'm still worried about you."
"I thought it was a very annoying thing to be reincarnated. I was repellent. Besides, I'm dressed like this. [M] It's Snow Oka's fault. That's why I'm not going to blame Snow Oka. On the contrary... I don't know what kind of nasty truth there is, but if anything harms Snow Oka, I want to protect Snow Oka."
"I wonder why reincarnation erases memories because I'm sure memories from previous lives are in the way. A lot of people don't want to know about memories of their past lives, do they? I'm not who I am anymore."
"At least I was. I found it very annoying. I'm tired and Yukioka are pushing me through my last life, so I don't need it. Some of them always have me in my past life. So conscious and troublesome."
"It was - huh. It's the past."
"Oh, not now. A lot happened, and I changed my mind. And the way I feel... changed."
True to stare at the samurai and tell them how honest you feel.
"I want to know now. About myself in my previous life. The truth and the truth."
"Now you can't tell me if you want to. It's inconvenient from him, so he's getting in the way. But when the time comes, you'll find out from his mouth."
"Who's that guy?
To the true question, the martial artist turns into a grumpy face, pointing next to him with his thumb.
Another person showed up there.
Grey loose robe. Likewise, the gray tip breaks the head. A wooden wand twisted like a dull tip. White youth dressed like wizards. Straight stretched blonde hair reached her waist and her eyes, with their mysterious and demonic glow, were the same as what the truth sees every day.
I know who that is. I am like no other. This is also who I was in my previous life. And I understood. It's - it's this guy who's really inconvenient to be known the truth at the moment.
At the moment when the wizard-style youth had an elegant grin on their delicate and borderline beauty, the truth instinctively remembered fear and anger strongly at the same time, awakening consciousness.
That's the story now.
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