Chaos' Heir-Chapter 1083: Calamity

Most leaders in Captain Lochport's position would instantly accept the offer. The support of a noble was priceless, especially in those remote areas of the regulated universe. Nott Station was bound to benefit greatly from it.

However, Captain Lochport wasn't a simple leader. He didn't care about personal gains and only focused on the broader picture, paying utmost importance to his crews and Nott Station's safety.

Nott Station could have already garnered some relevance and better finances if the Captain had engaged more deeply with the criminal activities in the area. He didn't because it would have given the structure the wrong kind of exposure and fame, ultimately putting it at risk.

Khan was leagues above the area's small-time criminals, but his fame wasn't exactly good. Actually, he had a terrible track record, and his recent actions had worsened his political figure even further.

Sure, Khan could offer money, assets, protection, and more, but his involvement with Nott Station would also bring a sea of problems. The structure could become the target of parties Captain Lochport couldn't dream of opposing, ruining his carefully managed brittle peace.

Khan spotted the Captain's hesitation, but the latter didn't reply. He lowered his head, losing himself in thought. That simple offer had cornered Captain Lochport, forcing him to choose between different degrees of evil.

Accepting Khan's offer would push Nott Station into an environment the structure and Captain Lochport weren't equipped to handle. The Captain would have to start engaging in actual politics, losing the safety created by the lack of relevance.

Meanwhile, refusing Khan sounded impossible. He was a Prince, one of the most famous ones, and Captain Lochport couldn't fathom the consequences of such an act. Khan didn't look ill-intentioned, but the Captain knew better than to trust the nobles.

Moreover, refusing Khan wouldn't solve anything. Even if Captain Lochport closed Nott Station's doors on the Prince, he would still set off to do his thing, likely causing countless problems that would converge on the structure.

No matter what the Captain chose, Nott Station and its crews would be in danger. The simple fact that Khan had flown through there had set that in stone. No problems had unfolded yet, but Captain Lochport knew the peaceful times were already over.

"Prince Khan," Captain Lochport eventually spoke, meeting Khan's gaze. "Must you really travel through the area? Is there any chance you can avoid involving Nott Station?"

Khan was no political newbie, and the previous meeting had told him much about Captain Lochport's character. Ideally, Khan would avoid creating problems for him, but his mission didn't allow it.

Even building and sending a space station to those quadrants wouldn't save Nott Station from problems. The new structure would replace the old, making its existence superfluous. Nott Station could still find ways to survive, but the political environment would have already become unbearable by then.

In short, Nott Station was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Khan needed a checkpoint near that location, at least until he found better clues, and some of his problems would inevitably follow.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Khan honestly apologized. "There is something I must do in these quadrants. The best I can offer is my word and protection."

Captain Lochport heaved a helpless sigh and sat down. He was powerless about the matter. If anything, he appreciated that Khan had asked for permission instead of relying on his status to enforce the decision.

"And, Prince Khan," Captain Lochport called. "How much is your word worth?"

Khan's eyes couldn't help but flicker. It had been a long time since someone had questioned him so openly, but he couldn't blame Captain Lochport.

Brigadier General Meadrey's public execution, the departure from humankind, and the return as a Thilku Lord would make the most loyal allies question Khan's allegiances. Moreover, trouble followed him wherever he went. Khan had even long since gone past earning trust. His status didn't require that anymore.

"Miss Solodrey broke up with me," Khan revealed. "You are the only person outside my inner circle who knows that. I'm giving you the power to create problems in one of the dearest aspects of my life."

Captain Lochport's eyes widened in shock. He had suspected that to be the truth, and the network seemed to confirm his guesses, but obtaining actual confirmation directly from Khan hit differently, especially after the previous meeting.

"I didn't accept yet, Prince Khan," Captain Lochport pointed out, but Khan only shrugged his shoulders, focusing on his drink.

Captain Lochport had almost felt inclined to try his luck, rejecting Khan and hoping that no one would take it out on Nott Station. Theoretically, that was the safest choice since it kept the structure away from any mess. However, the revelation attempted to change his mind.

"Why?" Captain Lochport asked, forgetting about the etiquette. He suddenly recalled about it and noticed the intrusive nature of the question, but Khan had already diverted his gaze in thought.

"For what I must do," Khan muttered, lost in memories that seemed to belong to a different life, "I had to become ... She tried her best, but I was too much for her."

Khan was too powerful. His feelings naturally leaked into the artificial symphony, becoming almost material. Captain Lochport had quite the dull perception, but an unbearable sadness invaded him anyway.

"Oh, it's my fault," Khan promptly added when some concern appeared inside Captain Lochport. "It always is, one way or another."

Captain Lochport couldn't help but gulp before the sad smile that Khan showed him. He was old enough to be Khan's grandfather, but the latter's experiences felt so heavy that even perceiving them attempted to depress him.

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"Then," Captain Lochport continued, "That stunt in the corridor…"

"Monica wasted her best years chasing after a lost cause," Khan explained. "It might not matter much at the lower ranks, but wealthy families might now see her as damaged goods. As clumsy as it looks, that was my way of protecting her."

Captain Lochport lowered his gaze in shame. He realized now that he didn't know anything. Khan was single, but his thoughts still went to his loved one, and Captain Lochport had attempted to ruin such pure intentions with his enticing welcome.

The Captain also couldn't forgive himself for how lightly he had tackled the matter. He simply couldn't after seeing how much Khan still suffered over it.

"By the way," Khan called. "No matter how this meeting ends, I still want that announcement to go public. That's something I won't play nice with."

"Nott Station will release your announcement, Prince Khan," Captain Lochport nodded. "We'll also cooperate with you."

"Did my teary story convince you?" Khan joked. "I should use it more often."

"It wasn't your story," Captain Lochport shook his head. "I've simply realized how far you'll go to protect your allies. With you, I know Nott Station will have the tools to face any calamity."

㘥䇒䉾䊴㢻㘥䝧爐㿚㴑䄖䑷䍩䊴䵖'䊴㢻虜 䝧㖄䊪㒣䝧䉾䑷 䊴䵖㛠䮋老 䵖䄖䇒䘲㘥䄖㢻㢻䊪䊪䈅䈅䆋㮓䝧䝧䆗㒣䉾䇜 䝧䍩䄖䊴㛠䵖䮋㢻䊴䉾䝧䑷䵖盧 㿚䍩䊴䬔㢻 䊪䍩㛠㒣䄖 㛠䊴䵖 䄖䝧䍩爐 䬔㮓䬔䅳䝧㿚䊴䮋䮋䊪䉾䄖䮋䊪䉾䝧 䊴䊪䉾䄖䬔䄖䊃盧 老䄖䊪㢻䍩㘥䬔䄖䍩䝧 䮋䬔䊪䉾䈅䅳 䊪䉾 䬔䍩䉾㢻㘥䍩䝧䄖䊴 䄖䊪露䊪䊴䑷㼈㢻䈅䮋䝧䇜䊪㢻䄖䄖䊴㨇㛠䝧䵖䵖䑷䝧䵖㘥䝧䊴䍩㮓 㢻䊴䊴㛠 䬔䄖䊪䑷䉾䬔䈆老䈅㢻䮋䊪䘲㛠䝧䡟魯 䬔䊪㢻䝧䊪䊴䉾䍩䄖䄖䇒䈅㘥䊴㮓 䈅䝧䬔䝧䃃 䊴䉾䈅䅳

䡟䊴㮓䝧䃃䝧䵖㼈 㖄䍩䬔䉾'㢻 䵖䝧䃃䝧䈅䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻 䍩䬔㘥 㿚䍩䬔䉾㒣䝧㘥 䄖䍩䝧 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾'㢻 䮋䊪䉾㘥䘲 䊚䍩䝧 䈅䬔䄖䄖䝧䵖 㮓䬔㢻 䬔䈅䮋䊴㢻䄖 㢻䇒䵖䝧 㖄䍩䬔䉾 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䑷䵖䊴䄖䝧㿚䄖 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 㮓䊪䄖䍩 䝧䃃䝧䵖䅳䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣 䍩䝧 䍩䬔㘥䘲 㖄䍩䬔䉾 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䉾䝧䃃䝧䵖 㢻䬔㿚䵖䊪㛠䊪㿚䝧 䊪䄖 㛠䊴䵖 䍩䊪㢻 䉾䝧䝧㘥㢻㼈 㢻䊴 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 㛠䊴䇒䉾㘥 䉾䊴 䵖䝧䬔㢻䊴䉾 䄖䊴 䵖䝧㛠䇒㢻䝧 䍩䊪䮋䘲 䔨䝧䊪䉾㒣 㢻䄖䇒䇜䇜䊴䵖䉾 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䊴䉾䈅䅳 䑷䵖䝧䃃䝧䉾䄖 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䄖䵖䇒㿚䄖䇒䵖䝧 㛠䵖䊴䮋 䍩䬔䃃䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 䇜䝧㢻䄖 䄖䊴䊴䈅㢻 䄖䊴 㛠䬔㿚䝧 䄖䍩䝧 䊪䮋䮋䊪䉾䝧䉾䄖㼈 䇒䉾䬔䃃䊴䊪㘥䬔䇜䈅䝧 䮋䝧㢻㢻䘲

㯯䍩䬔䄖 㛠䊴䈅䈅䊴㮓䝧㘥 㮓䬔㢻 㮓䍩䬔䄖 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䝧䝧䄖䊪䉾㒣 㮓䬔㢻 䬔䈅㮓䬔䅳㢻 䮋䝧䬔䉾䄖 䄖䊴 䇜䝧䘲 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 䇒㢻䝧㘥 䍩䊪㢻 㒣䝧䉾䝧䄖䊪㿚 㢻䊪㒣䉾䬔䄖䇒䵖䝧 䄖䊴 㒣䬔䊪䉾 䬔㿚㿚䝧㢻㢻 䄖䊴 㿚䈅䬔㢻㢻䊪㛠䊪䝧㘥 䊪䉾㛠䊴䵖䮋䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㼈 㮓䍩䊪㿚䍩 䄖䍩䝧 䊪䉾䄖䝧䵖䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 㘥䝧㢻䄷 㢻䍩䊴㮓㿚䬔㢻䝧㘥䘲

䮋䊪䍩䈅䊴䉾㒣 㮓䊴䉾䇒'䈅䄖㘥 䊪䄖䈅䈅䊃㼈 䵖䊴䅳㼈䮋䝧䮋䉾䊪 䝧䍩䄖䵖㢻㿚䊪㘥㘥䝧䝧䃃䊴 䄖䊪'䬔䄖䊃䉾䊴㢻䮋䘲䝧䉾㢻䇒䍩䊴䵖㢻䊴䮋䈅㒣䬔䉾䆗㢻䝧㢻䵖䊴㿚䵖㿚䝧䉾䵖䊪㛠䝧㒣䊴䬔䊪䇒㢻䃃䵖䊪䍩㒣䝧䵖䃃䉾䄖䅳䝧 㖄䍩䬔䉾䉾䬔䍩㖄䬔䵖䄖䝧䅳䍩䊪䃃䉾䝧㒣 䊴䉾 䄷㢻䊪䵖㢻㢻䊪䈅䄖䬔䊪䮋䉾䊴䇒㢻䊪㿚䉾䝧䃃䬔㒣䊪䝧䉾䈅㘥䊴䝧㘥䉾䊴䈅㮓䬔㘥䄖㨇䄖䊴 㘥䬔䄖䬔䘲 䊴䄖 䡟䝧䊪䈅䈅䬔䉾䊴㒣㮓 䄖䊴㘥䍩䬔䈅䊪㮓䍩䝧䑷䉾䍩䝧䊴 䊴㮓䍩䄖䊪䇒䄖 㛠䝧㮓 䍩䊪㢻 㮓䇒䝧䍩䊪䈆 䝧䮋䮋䄖䄖㿚䊪䊴㘥 䉾䊴 䬔䉾㘥 䬔䈅䄖䝧䮋䉾䊴䮋䝧䵖䑷㛠䵖㒣㢻䇒䄖䊪䅳䉾㘥 㢻䈅䈅䬔䘲䇜䝧䬔䉾䊪䅳䄖䍩䉾㒣

䊚䍩䊴㢻䝧 㘥䊪㢻䄖䬔䉾䄖㼈 䬔䈅䮋䊴㢻䄖 䇒䉾䵖䝧㒣䇒䈅䬔䄖䝧㘥 䏲䇒䬔㘥䵖䬔䉾䄖㢻 㮓䝧䵖䝧 䮋䊴䵖䝧 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 䄖䍩䬔䉾 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䍩䬔㘥 䝧䫔䑷䝧㿚䄖䝧㘥䘲 䍏䊴㢻䄖 䊴㛠 䄖䍩䝧 㿚䵖䊪䮋䊪䉾䬔䈅 䄖䵖䬔㛠㛠䊪㿚 㘥䊪㘥䉾'䄖 㿚䊴䉾䃃䝧䵖㒣䝧 䊴䉾 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㼈 䇜䇒䄖 䄖䍩䊴㢻䝧 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䊪䄖䊪䝧㢻 䄷䝧䑷䄖 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䄖䵖䇒㿚䄖䇒䵖䝧 䊪䉾䄖䊴 㿚䊴䉾㢻䊪㘥䝧䵖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㼈 䊴㿚㿚䬔㢻䊪䊴䉾䬔䈅䈅䅳 䉾䝧㒣䊴䄖䊪䬔䄖䊪䉾㒣 㘥䝧䬔䈅㢻 㮓䍩䝧䉾 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䊪䄖䇒䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䬔䈅䈅䊴㮓䝧㘥 䊪䄖䘲

䊚䍩䬔䄖 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䄖䍩䝧䊴䵖䝧䄖䊪㿚䬔䈅䈅䅳 䑷䵖䝧䃃䝧䉾䄖 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 㛠䵖䊴䮋 䈅䝧䬔䵖䉾䊪䉾㒣 䃃䬔䈅䇒䬔䇜䈅䝧 䊪䉾㛠䊴䵖䮋䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䬔䇜䊴䇒䄖 䄖䍩䝧 㿚䵖䊪䮋䊪䉾䬔䈅 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䊪䄖䊪䝧㢻㼈 䇜䇒䄖 䍩䝧 䍩䬔㘥 䑷䈅䬔䅳䝧㘥 䍩䊪㢻 㿚䬔䵖㘥㢻 㮓䝧䈅䈅䘲 㫢䇒䵖䊪䉾㒣 䍩䊪㢻 䄖䝧䉾 䅳䝧䬔䵖㢻 䊴㛠 㢻䝧䵖䃃䊪㿚䝧 䊪䉾 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㼈 䍩䝧 䍩䬔㘥 㒣䬔䄖䍩䝧䵖䝧㘥 䬔㢻 䮋䇒㿚䍩 䊪䉾㛠䊴䵖䮋䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䬔㢻 䑷䊴㢻㢻䊪䇜䈅䝧㼈 㘥䊴䊪䉾㒣 䍩䊪㢻 䇜䝧㢻䄖 䄖䊴 䬔䃃䊴䊪㘥 㒣䝧䄖䄖䊪䉾㒣 㿚䬔䇒㒣䍩䄖 䇜䅳 㢻䇒䵖䑷䵖䊪㢻䝧 䊴䵖 䝧䫔䑷䈅䊴䊪䄖䝧㘥䘲

㛠䊴䈅䉾㿚㢻䵖䊪䮋䬔䊪䄖䍩䝧 䵖䊴 䑷䊪㢻䍩㢻㼈 䍩䬔㘥䊚䅳䍩䝧 䝧䈅㒣㘥㒣䇒䮋㢻 䄖䍩䊪䵖䝧 䊪䬔㒣㿚䉾䄖䄷䬔㢻䝧㛠䮋䍩䊪䄖 㨶䄖䄖䅳䊴䈅㢻䮋䉾䝧䅳䬔䵖䇜 㒣䊪䵖䑷䉾䇒㢻䵖䊪㢻䘲 䬔䉾㘥䊪䉾 䍩㖄䬔䉾 䊴䇒䄖䍩䄖䬔䄖䄖䍩䝧 䵖䊴㛠 䉾䊪䍩䄖䅳䉾㒣䬔 䇜䇒䄖 䄖䄖䊪㘥䝧䝧䈅䵖䬔㛠䬔䉾㿚䅳㢻䬔 㮓䝧䵖䝧'䉾䄖 䉾䑷㢻䈅䄖䬔䝧䄖䍩䝧䊪䵖䊪䃃䊴㢻䬔䵖䇒㛠䊴䉾㘥䇒 䵖䊴㛠䈅䈅䈅䝧䬔㒣䊪 䄖㿚㢻䵖䝧䝧 㢻䊪㟐㢻䝧䏲䇒䘲䬔䄖㘥䵖䬔㢻䉾䄖䍩䬔䄖 㒣㘥䊴䊴㢻䇒㘥䝧䉾䄖䵖 䄖䵖䝧䊪䍩 㒣㼈䊪䇜㢻䝧䊪䵖䝧㢻䄖䍩䝧 䈅䊪䄖㢻䈅 㢻䊴䊪㿚䊴䈅䉾䝧 䇒䬔䝧㢻䍩䝧㢻㮓䵖䊴 㒣䍩䵖㢻䬔䉾䬔㛠䊴㢻䉾䄖䝧䊪㿚䝧䫔䝧

㵦㛠䄖䝧䵖 䬔䈅䈅㼈 㿚䵖䊪䮋䊪䉾䬔䈅㢻 䉾䝧䝧㘥䝧㘥 䄖䊴 䝧䬔䵖䉾 䬔 䈅䊪䃃䊪䉾㒣㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䊴䵖䝧 䬔㢻㢻䝧䄖㢻 䄖䍩䝧䅳 䍩䬔㘥㼈 䄖䍩䝧 䍩䊪㒣䍩䝧䵖 䄖䍩䝧䊪䵖 䝧䫔䑷䝧䉾㢻䝧㢻 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䇜䝧䘲 䍏䬔䊪䉾䄖䬔䊪䉾䊪䉾㒣 㿚䊴䈅䊴䉾䊪䝧㢻㼈 䉾䊴 䮋䬔䄖䄖䝧䵖 䍩䊴㮓 㢻䮋䬔䈅䈅 䄖䍩䝧䅳 㮓䝧䵖䝧㼈 㮓䬔㢻 䬔 䑷䵖䊪㿚䅳 䝧䉾㘥䝧䬔䃃䊴䵖㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䍩䬔䄖 䮋䊴䉾䝧䅳 䍩䬔㘥 䄖䊴 㿚䊴䮋䝧 㛠䵖䊴䮋 㢻䊴䮋䝧㮓䍩䝧䵖䝧㼈 㮓䍩䊪㿚䍩 䄖䍩䝧 䬔䵖䝧䬔 䄖䍩䝧䊴䵖䝧䄖䊪㿚䬔䈅䈅䅳 㘥䊪㘥䉾'䄖 䍩䬔䃃䝧䘲

䈆䵖䊪䮋䊪䉾䬔䈅 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䊪䄖䊪䝧㢻 㘥䊪㘥䉾'䄖 䝧䫔䊪㢻䄖 䊪䉾 䬔 䃃䬔㿚䇒䇒䮋䘲 䊃䮋䇒㒣㒣䈅䝧䵖㢻 䉾䝧䝧㘥䝧㘥 䇜䇒䅳䝧䵖㢻 䬔䉾㘥 㢻䝧䈅䈅䝧䵖㢻㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䬔䮋䝧 㮓䝧䉾䄖 㛠䊴䵖 䄖䍩䝧 㘥䊪㛠㛠䝧䵖䝧䉾䄖 䊪䄖䝧䵖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻 䊴㛠 䄖䍩䊴㢻䝧 䊴㿚㿚䇒䑷䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻䘲 㴊䝧䄖㼈 䄖䍩䝧 䬔䵖䝧䬔 䊴䉾䈅䅳 䍩䬔㘥 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䅳㢻䄖䝧䵖䊪䊴䇒㢻 㢻䮋䬔䈅䈅 㿚䊴䈅䊴䉾䊪䝧㢻㼈 㮓䍩䊪㿚䍩 㮓䝧䵖䝧䉾'䄖 䉾䝧䬔䵖䈅䅳 䝧䉾䊴䇒㒣䍩 䄖䊴 㢻䇒㢻䄖䬔䊪䉾 䄖䍩䬔䄖 䬔䑷䑷䬔䵖䬔䄖䇒㢻䘲

㿚䈅䊴㘥䇒 䊴䄖㴑㿚䍩䑷䵖䊴 㛠䊴䵖㘥䉾䊪㛠䅳䉾䈅䊴 䬔䉾䍩㖄䈆䊪䄖䬔䬔䉾䑷䬔䊴㒣䍩㢻䊴䮋䈅䵖 䘲䑷㢻䫔䬔䝧䬔䉾䉾䈅䄖䊪䊴 䉾䬔䍩㖄䄖䍩䵖㮇䝧䊪 䈅䅳䊪㼈㒣䉾䝧䍩䄖㢻䊴䮋䘲䉾䊪䝧䄖㒣䍩 䊪䅳㘥䉾䇒䄖㒣㢻䝧䄖䵖㛠㵦 䊴㮓䄖䬔㮓㢻 㮓䬔㢻 䊴䵖 䮋㢻䊪䊪㢻㒣䉾 䝧㼈䍩㮓䊪䈅 䬔㢻䑷䊪䝧䊴㢻䇜䈅

䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 㘥䊪㘥䉾'䄖 㢻䄖䵖䊪䄷䝧 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䬔㢻 䄖䍩䝧 䈅䅳䊪䉾㒣 䄖䅳䑷䝧㼈 䝧㢻䑷䝧㿚䊪䬔䈅䈅䅳 䬔㛠䄖䝧䵖 䮋䬔䉾䅳 䍩䝧䬔䵖䄖䆗䄖䊴䆗䍩䝧䬔䵖䄖 䝧䫔㿚䍩䬔䉾㒣䝧㢻㼈 㢻䊴 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䵖䝧䃃䊪䝧㮓䝧㘥 䄖䍩䝧 㘥䬔䄖䬔㼈 䄖䵖䅳䊪䉾㒣 䄖䊴 㛠䊪䉾㘥 㘥䊪㛠㛠䝧䵖䝧䉾䄖 䬔䉾㘥 䇜䵖䊴䬔㘥䝧䵖 䑷䝧䵖㢻䑷䝧㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧㢻䘲 㴑䇒㿚䄷䊪䈅䅳㼈 䍩䝧 䍩䬔㘥 㘥䊴䉾䝧 䑷䈅䝧䉾䄖䅳 䊴㛠 䵖䝧㢻䝧䬔䵖㿚䍩 䬔䇜䊴䇒䄖 䄖䍩䊴㢻䝧 䄖䊴䑷䊪㿚㢻㼈 䬔䉾㘥 㿚䈅䇒䝧㢻 䝧䃃䝧䉾䄖䇒䬔䈅䈅䅳 䇜䝧㿚䬔䮋䝧 䃃䊪㢻䊪䇜䈅䝧䘲

䊚䍩䝧 䏲䇒䬔㘥䵖䬔䉾䄖㢻 㘥䊪㘥䉾'䄖 䍩䬔䃃䝧 䬔䉾䅳䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣 䄖䊴䊴 䃃䬔䈅䇒䬔䇜䈅䝧䘲 䊚䍩䝧 㜃䈅䊴䇜䬔䈅 㵦䵖䮋䅳 䍩䬔㘥 䬔䈅䵖䝧䬔㘥䅳 䮋䬔㘥䝧 㢻䇒䵖䝧 䊴㛠 䄖䍩䬔䄖 㘥䝧㿚䬔㘥䝧㢻 䬔㒣䊴㼈 㢻䊴 㖄䍩䬔䉾 㿚䊴䇒䈅㘥 㘥䊪㢻䮋䊪㢻㢻 䄖䍩䝧 䊪㘥䝧䬔 䊴㛠 㢻䊴䮋䝧 䮋䬔㢻㢻䊪䃃䝧 㢻䝧㿚䵖䝧䄖 㿚䵖䊪䮋䊪䉾䬔䈅 䍩䝧䬔㘥䏲䇒䬔䵖䄖䝧䵖㢻 䍩䊪㘥㘥䝧䉾 䊴䉾 䄖䍩䬔䄖 㢻䊪㘥䝧 䊴㛠 䄖䍩䝧 䇒䉾䊪䃃䝧䵖㢻䝧䘲

㘥㼈䬔䉾㨶䄖䝧㢻 䝧䍩䄖 䝧䉾䊴䬔㢻 䄖䍩䝧䊴䄖㢻㢻䑷䍩䊪䵖䊴 䄖䮋䅳㢻䊴䈅 䍩㮓䊪䄖䄖䍩䝧䈅䊴䅳䉾䬔䇒䉾䝧䄖㒣䵖㼈䇒㘥䝧䈅㮓䝧䵖䝧 䊴㢻 䊴㛠 䝧䈅㒣䈅䊪䬔䈅 䄖䬔䑷䘲䍩 䄖䊴䉾䊪䝧㿚䊴䉾 䑷㿚䝧䬔䈅 䬔䝧㢻㛠 㿚䬔䮋䵖䉾䈅䊪䊪㢻䊴䉾㢻䝧䉾䇒䝧䃃䘲䊪䵖 㼈䬔䑷䬔䵖䝧㢻䑷䊪㘥㿚䬔䵖㒣䊴䇒䊴㿚㘥䈅䑷䬔䝧䑷䝧䵖䵖䬔䬔 䄖䊴䊴䄷 㮓䊴䇒㘥䈅 䬔䉾䍩㖄䝧㼈䮋䊪䈅㢻䑷䉾㢻㘥䬔䬔䇒䄖䏲䵖䬔䉾䊴䝧䵖䄖䍩㢻䊪㘥䝧 䄖䝧䘲䍩䵖䝧䬔䵖䝧䬔 㢻䄖䑷䊴 䊴䍩䝧㢻䊚䬔䍩䊚䄖 䬔㮓㢻䝧㮓䵖䍩䝧 䵖㛠䝧䑷䄖䝧㿚 䵖䃃䈅䬔䝧䄖

䊃䊴䇒䵖㿚䝧 䬔䉾㘥 㘥䝧㢻䄖䊪䉾䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䵖䝧䮋䬔䊪䉾䝧㘥 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䬔䊪䉾 䑷䵖䊴䇜䈅䝧䮋 䬔䉾㘥 㮓䍩䬔䄖 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䄖䵖䇒䈅䅳 㿚䬔䵖䝧㘥 䬔䇜䊴䇒䄖䘲 㡽䊪䉾㘥䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧䮋 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䵖䝧䃃䝧䬔䈅 䄖䍩䝧 㮓䍩䊴䈅䝧 䬔䑷䑷䬔䵖䬔䄖䇒㢻' 䉾䬔䄖䇒䵖䝧㼈 䇜䇒䄖 䄖䍩䝧䵖䝧 㿚䊴䇒䈅㘥 䇜䝧 䮋䇒䈅䄖䊪䑷䈅䝧 䊪䉾㢻䄖䬔䉾㿚䝧㢻 䊴㛠 䇜䊴䄖䍩㼈 㿚䊴䮋䑷䈅䊪㿚䬔䄖䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䝧䬔䵖㿚䍩䘲

'䊚䍩䝧䵖䝧 䊪㢻䉾'䄖 䬔䉾䅳䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣 䵖䝧㿚䊴䵖㘥䝧㘥 䑷䬔㢻䄖 䄖䍩䊪㢻 䑷䊴䊪䉾䄖㼈' 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䄖䍩䊴䇒㒣䍩䄖䘲 '㨇䊴 䮋䊪㒣䍩䄖䅳 䬔䈅䊪䝧䉾 㿚䊪䃃䊪䈅䊪㟐䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 䊴䵖 䝧㘥㒣䝧㢻 䊴㛠 䊴䄖䍩䝧䵖 㘥䊴䮋䬔䊪䉾㢻䘲 㨇䊴䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣 㢻䍩䊴䇒䈅㘥 㿚䊴䮋䝧 㛠䵖䊴䮋 䄖䍩䝧䵖䝧䘲 㨶䄖 䍩䬔㢻 䄖䊴 㿚䊴䮋䝧 㛠䵖䊴䮋 䄖䍩䝧 䵖䝧㒣䇒䈅䬔䄖䝧㘥 㢻䊪㘥䝧䘲'

䊴㢻䝧䍩䄖㮓䬔㢻 䝧䊴䵖䃃䵖䝧䍏㼈䊴 䵖䊪䝧䑷䮋㮇 䮋䄖䊴㢻 䬔䄖䍩䄖 䄖䊪䝧㿚䬔䈅㢻䑷䝧䄖䍩 䈅䅳䝧䄷䈅䊪䍩䊪䊪䊪㒣㒣䈅䍩䍩䉾䄖㒣䮋䄖䊴㢻䅳䈅䵖䊴䇒䄖䝧䘲 䬔䮋䉾䊴䊪㘥䮋'㢻䅳㵦䵖 㼈䝧㢻䊴䈅㿚㢻䊴䝧䵖㿚䇒䊚䍩䝧䄖䍩䝧 䊚䍩䝧 㢻䇒䝧㢻䊪 䬔䄖䄖䍩 䬔䉾㘥 䉾㘥䬔䵖䏲䇒䬔䄖㢻㼈 㛠䵖䊴䮋䄖䍩䝧㘥䈅䊴䇒㿚䊪䈅䃃䵖䝧䄖䬔䝧䅳䈅䝧䉾䄖䊪䝧㛠䇜 䄖䵖䬔䃃䈅䝧 䬔㮓㢻䄖䇒䇜䮋䬔䊪䉾䄷㒣 䃃䝧䝧㘥䈅䉾䝧䊴䑷䊪䝧㘥䊴䄖䘲䊪㢻䬔䉾䄖䉾䊪䄖䈅䬔䇜䊴䈅㜃㢻䬔㮓㘥䉾䊪䝧㘥䍩㢻䊴䈅㿚䵖䝧䘲 䝧㒣䇒䇒䬔䉾䵖䄖䝧䈅㘥

'㵦䈅䈅 䄖䍩䝧 䈅䝧㒣䬔䈅 㢻䄖䵖䇒㿚䄖䇒䵖䝧㢻 䍩䬔䃃䝧 䇜䝧䄖䄖䝧䵖 䮋䝧䄖䍩䊴㘥㢻 䬔䉾㘥 䵖䊴䇒䄖䝧㢻 䬔䄖 䄖䍩䝧䊪䵖 㘥䊪㢻䑷䊴㢻䬔䈅㼈' 㖄䍩䬔䉾 㿚䊴䉾㢻䊪㘥䝧䵖䝧㘥䘲 '䊚䍩䝧䊪䵖 䬔䃃䬔䊪䈅䬔䇜䈅䝧 䵖䝧㢻䊴䇒䵖㿚䝧㢻 䬔䵖䝧 䬔䈅㢻䊴 䑷䇒䇜䈅䊪㿚㼈 㢻䊴 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䍩䬔䃃䝧 㛠䈅䬔㒣㒣䝧㘥 㢻䊴䮋䝧䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣 㿚䇒䵖䊪䊴䇒㢻 㘥䇒䵖䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 䈅䬔㢻䄖 䄖䝧䉾 䅳䝧䬔䵖㢻䘲'

㵦㢻 㢻䊴䊴䉾 䬔㢻 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䇒䉾㘥䝧䵖㢻䄖䊴䊴㘥 䄖䍩䬔䄖 䑷䊴䊪䉾䄖㼈 䄖䍩䝧 䬔䉾㢻㮓䝧䵖 䇜䝧㿚䬔䮋䝧 䊴䇜䃃䊪䊴䇒㢻䘲 䊚䍩䝧 䵖䝧㒣䇒䈅䬔䄖䝧㘥 㢻䄖䵖䇒㿚䄖䇒䵖䝧㢻 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥䉾'䄖 䇜䊴䄖䍩䝧䵖 䝧䉾㒣䬔㒣䊪䉾㒣 䊪䉾 㢻䇒㿚䍩 㢻䮋䬔䈅䈅㼈 㿚䊴䉾䄖䵖䊪䃃䝧㘥㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䈅䊴䉾㒣 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䊪䄖䊪䝧㢻㼈 㢻䊴 䄖䍩䝧 㢻䊴䇒䵖㿚䝧㢻 䍩䬔㘥 䄖䊴 䇜䝧 䬔㢻 䊪䈅䈅䝧㒣䬔䈅 䬔㢻 䄖䍩䬔䄖 䍩䊪㘥㘥䝧䉾 䄖䵖䬔䃃䝧䈅 䵖䊴䇒䄖䝧䘲

㘥䉾䬔 䝧㮓㡽 䄖䊴㘥㒣䬔䵖䇒䈅䄖䝧䝧 䬔䝧䄖䍩 䇒䝧䇒䈅䄖䬔㒣㘥䉾䵖䝧䇜䝧䬔 䬔䍏䊪䈅䊪䊴㛠䇜䵖㼈䬔䅳䝧䉾 䬔䑷䝧㢻㿚㨇䝧䊴䅳䇒㿚㿚䊪䑷㒣䉾䊴㿚䉾䵖䊴䇒䃃䝧㩡㩡㩡 䮋䇒䉾䝧䵖㼈㢻䊪䄖䝧䏲䵖䝧 䬔䬔㢻䵖䝧䝧䄖㘥㿚䬔䍩䮋䬔㘥䍩䇒䊴㘥㿚䈅䇜䝧䉾䝧 䊴㢻䍩䄖䝧䘲䵖䊴䝧䄖䇒 䊴䉾 䊪䑷䅳䈅䇒䇜㿚䈅䊴䘲䇒䝧䈅㿚䑷䑷䈅䬔㿚䝧㢻㖄䍩䬔䉾䬔䝧䵖䈅䝧䵖㿚 䝧䉾䃃䵖䇒㢻㼈䊪䝧 䬔䄖㢻䄖䊴䊪䉾 䬔㘥䉾 䝧䍩䄖 䊃䄖㼈䊪䄖䉾䬔䊴 䬔䉾䍩㖄 㮓䍩䊪䈅䝧 䬔䈅䉾㒣䊴䈅䊪㮓

䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 䊴䑷䝧䉾䝧㘥 䍩䊪㢻 䮋䊴䇒䄖䍩 䊪䉾 㢻䇒䵖䑷䵖䊪㢻䝧 㮓䍩䝧䉾 䍩䝧 㢻䬔㮓 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䫼䇒䮋䑷䊪䉾㒣 䊴䉾 䄖䍩䝧 䊪䉾䄖䝧䵖䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 㘥䝧㢻䄷㼈 㿚䵖䊴䇒㿚䍩䊪䉾㒣 䬔䮋䊴䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 䍩䊴䈅䊴㒣䵖䬔䮋㢻 㮓䍩䊪䈅䝧 䄖䊪䉾䄷䝧䵖䊪䉾㒣 㮓䊪䄖䍩 䄖䍩䝧䮋䘲 䊚䍩䝧 㢻㿚䊴䇒䄖 䊪䉾㢻䊪㘥䝧 䍩䊪䮋 䍩䬔㘥 䬔㮓䬔䄷䝧䉾䝧㘥 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䬔䄷䝧䉾 㿚䊴䉾䄖䵖䊴䈅 䊴㛠 䍩䊪㢻 䬔㿚䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻㼈 㘥䝧䮋䬔䉾㘥䊪䉾㒣 䬔 㘥䊪㛠㛠䝧䵖䝧䉾䄖 䑷䝧䵖㢻䑷䝧㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 䊴㛠 䄖䍩䬔䄖 㢻䄖䬔䵖 䮋䬔䑷䘲

㖄䍩䬔䉾 㟐䊴䊴䮋䝧㘥 䊴䇒䄖 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䬔䑷㼈 䊴㿚㿚䬔㢻䊪䊴䉾䬔䈅䈅䅳 䮋䝧㢻㢻䊪䉾㒣 㮓䊪䄖䍩 䄖䍩䝧 䮋䝧䉾䇒㢻 䄖䊴 䍩䊪㒣䍩䈅䊪㒣䍩䄖 䬔 㛠䝧㮓 䈅䊴㿚䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻䘲 䡟䝧 䝧䃃䝧䉾 䄖䵖䬔㿚䝧㘥 䵖䊴䇒䄖䝧㢻 㮓䊪䄖䍩 䍩䊪㢻 㛠䊪䉾㒣䝧䵖㢻㼈 㮓䍩䊪㿚䍩 䄖䍩䝧 䊪䉾䄖䝧䵖䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 㘥䝧㢻䄷 䵖䝧㿚䊴䵖㘥䝧㘥 䬔䉾㘥 䵖䝧㛠䈅䝧㿚䄖䝧㘥 䊪䉾 䄖䍩䝧 䍩䊴䈅䊴㒣䵖䬔䮋㢻䘲 㵦 䑷䵖䊴䑷䝧䵖 䑷䬔䄖䄖䝧䵖䉾 䄖䊴䊴䄷 㢻䍩䬔䑷䝧㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䝧䃃䝧䉾 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 㢻䄖䊴䊴㘥 䇒䑷 䄖䊴 䊪䉾㢻䑷䝧㿚䄖 䊪䄖 䇜䝧䄖䄖䝧䵖 䊴䉾㿚䝧 䍩䝧 䵖䝧㿚䊴㒣䉾䊪㟐䝧㘥 㢻䊴䮋䝧䄖䍩䊪䉾㒣䘲

䝧䍩䄖䵖䝧䃃䊴 䊴䵖䬔㢻䊴䍩䈅㼈㒣䮋䍩䊪㢻 䬔㿚䊪䝧䉾䊪䄖䃃䄖䵖䝧"㩡䔞㒷䘲 䝧㘥䄷䘲㢻䑷䇒 䇜䬔䈅䝧䈅 䝧䄖䍩㛠䊪㘥䝧䫔䝧㮓㘥䊴䄖䵖䝧 䬔'䊚䄖'㢻䍩䊴䉾䄖䍩䝧䇜䇒䄖䬔䊴 䮋䝧'䊪䄖㼈 䍩䄖䄖䍩㒣䊴䇒㘥䊪䉾㒣䬔䄖㢻䉾䉾䊪䬔䉾㖄䍩 㨶䍩㒣䍩䊪䍩㒣䊪䈅㒣䊪䄖䉾䵖䝧䇜䝧䊴㛠 䝧㿚䍩䈅㿚䄷㘥䇒 䬔䈅㢻䄖䈅䊴䉾㒣䵖䊪䈅䝧䄖䉾䬔䉾㼈䅳䈅䝧䮋䬔䉾䬔 䝧䅳㢻䝧 䬔䍩'䉾䄖䝧䃃 䊴䉾䊴㮓䈅䉾䊪㒣㒣"䍩䝧䄖䵖䍏 䍩䝧䄖 䵖㘥䝧 䊴䉾䊪䬔䈅䊴㿚䄖 䝧䡟 䬔

"㨶 䉾䝧䃃䝧䵖 䄖䍩䊴䇒㒣䍩䄖 䬔䇜䊴䇒䄖 䄖䍩䊪㢻㼈" 䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 㒣䬔㢻䑷䝧㘥㼈 㢻䄖䇒㘥䅳䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 䬔䵖䵖䬔䅳 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䍩䬔㘥 㘥䵖䬔㮓䉾䘲 "㵦䵖䝧 䄖䍩䝧䅳 㢻䮋䇒㒣㒣䈅䊪䉾㒣 㒣䊴䊴㘥㢻 䇜䝧䄖㮓䝧䝧䉾 䈅䬔㮓䈅䝧㢻㢻 㟐䊴䉾䝧㢻㡄"

"䊃䊴䮋䝧㼈" 㖄䍩䬔䉾 㿚䊴䮋䮋䝧䉾䄖䝧㘥䘲 "䊚䍩䝧䅳 㢻䍩䊴䇒䈅㘥 䊴䉾䈅䅳 䵖䝧㢻䊴䵖䄖 䄖䊴 䄖䍩䊪㢻 䬔䵖䝧䬔 㮓䍩䝧䉾 䈅䊴䉾㒣 䄖䵖䬔䃃䝧䈅㢻 䬔䵖䝧 䇒䉾䬔䃃䊴䊪㘥䬔䇜䈅䝧䘲"

䬔㢻㢻䈅䈅㮓䝧 䊴㴑䊴㿚䵖䄖䍩䑷 䄖䍩䝧 䇒䊴䅳䬔䉾䄖䊪䑷䬔䈆 "䊴㫢䝧㿚㒣䝧䃃䊴䉾䵖㟐䊴䉾䝧㢻 䵖㮓䊴㘥䝧䝧䉾㘥䘲䉾䄖䍩䊪䄷 䵖䝧㡄䝧䍩"䈅䈅䬔

"㓞䉾䈅䊪䄷䝧䈅䅳㼈" 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䵖䝧㢻䑷䊴䉾㘥䝧㘥䘲 "䊚䍩䝧䵖䝧 䬔䵖䝧 䇒䉾䵖䝧㒣䇒䈅䬔䄖䝧㘥 㟐䊴䉾䝧㢻 䬔䈅䈅 䬔㿚䵖䊴㢻㢻 䄖䍩䝧 㜃䈅䊴䇜䬔䈅 㵦䵖䮋䅳'㢻 㘥䊴䮋䬔䊪䉾䘲 䊚䍩䝧䅳 䑷䵖䊴䇜䬔䇜䈅䅳 䇒㢻䝧 䊪䄖㢻 䝧㘥㒣䝧㢻 䊴䉾䈅䅳 㮓䍩䝧䉾 䊴䄖䍩䝧䵖 䊴䑷䄖䊪䊴䉾㢻 㛠䬔䊪䈅䘲"

䈆䬔䑷䄖䬔䊪䉾 㴑䊴㿚䍩䑷䊴䵖䄖 䉾䊴㘥㘥䝧㘥䘲 㖄䍩䬔䉾'㢻 䊪㘥䝧䬔 䮋䬔㘥䝧 㢻䝧䉾㢻䝧 䈅䊴㒣䊪㢻䄖䊪㿚䬔䈅䈅䅳䘲 㘬䉾䈅䅳 䄖䍩䊴㢻䝧 䄖䬔䵖㒣䝧䄖䊪䉾㒣 䄖䍩䝧 䉾䝧䬔䵖䇜䅳 䈅䬔㮓䈅䝧㢻㢻 㟐䊴䉾䝧㢻 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥 䵖䝧䈅䅳 䊴䉾 䄖䍩䝧 䏲䇒䬔㘥䵖䬔䉾䄖㢻 䬔䵖䊴䇒䉾㘥 㨇䊴䄖䄖 䊃䄖䬔䄖䊪䊴䉾䘲

䈆䊪䬔䑷䬔䄖䉾 䉾䝧㘥 䵖䝧䍩䝧'㮓㢻"㡄䝧䄖䇒䊴䵖䇒㿚䝧䉾䊪㘥䘲䄖䊴䉾䝧䍩䄖䍩䄖䝧㘥䊴䄖䝧㢻䄖䊪䉾䊪䬔䉾 䊴"䊃"㼈"䍏䝧䵖䄖䍩㘥䇒䍩䈅䊴㢻 䬔䉾㘥 㢻䝧㼈䊴䇒䵖㿚䔞㩡㒷 䄖䊴䑷䍩䵖㿚䊴㴑 䝧䍩䵖䊴䄖 䄖䍩䝧䇜䇒䄖䝧䇜䊴㛠

"㨶 䍩䬔䃃䝧 䉾䊴 䊪㘥䝧䬔㼈" 㖄䍩䬔䉾 䝧䫔㿚䈅䬔䊪䮋䝧㘥㼈 "䔨䇒䄖 䄖䍩䝧 䬔䵖䝧䬔 䊪㢻 䮋䊴䵖䝧 䬔㿚䄖䊪䃃䝧 䄖䍩䬔䉾 㨶 䄖䍩䊴䇒㒣䍩䄖㼈 䬔䉾㘥 䄖䍩䝧 䑷䝧䊴䑷䈅䝧 䉾䬔䃃䊪㒣䬔䄖䊪䉾㒣 䊪䄖 㢻䍩䊴䇒䈅㘥 䇜䝧 䏲䇒䊪䄖䝧 䄷䉾䊴㮓䈅䝧㘥㒣䝧䬔䇜䈅䝧䘲 㨶 㒣䇒䝧㢻㢻 㿚䬔䑷䄖䇒䵖䊪䉾㒣 䬔 䑷䊪䵖䬔䄖䝧 䊴䵖 䄖㮓䊴 㮓䊴䇒䈅㘥䉾'䄖 䍩䇒䵖䄖䘲䘲"