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Far from the chaos of the restaurant—
Inside a car, the Leader drove with both hands steady on the wheel. City lights reflected off the windshield like an artificial constellation.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
The City Boy, seated in the passenger seat, scrolled through a review app.
“Not yet. There’s a new café in Shimokitazawa. Opened two weeks ago.”
“That’s where we’re going. And where you’ll meet the rest of the group.”
The City Boy’s face lit up.
“So that means I’m officially part of the group now?”
“Looks like it. Congratulations.”
“Years of training…”
“They finally paid off.”
The traffic light turned red.
For a brief moment, the Leader rested his forehead against the steering wheel.
On stage, he was the father.
The responsible one.
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This is one of them.
A story about a J-pop idol group that dies on stage and wakes up inside a world that resembles a game.
Ten men in total.
Among them, two are traitors.
And one is a jester—
a role that exists only to disrupt, mislead, and laugh as everything collapses.
To return to Earth, they must play a cruel game of trust and accusation.
This is not a story about idols.
It is a story about what remains when the spotlight disappears.

Stacks of takeout boxes formed crude barricades.
Plastic cups lay overturned across the floor, nameless casualties of a forgotten skirmish.
Disposable chopsticks were scattered everywhere, as if someone had tried—desperately—to fight back with them.
And at the center of the wreckage—
Eight idols.
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Chapter 4

Where the Signal Can’t Reach

The meeting point lay beyond the network.
The address led me to an old underground maintenance station, built before cities became intelligent. No sensors. No drones. No projected displays.
My phone lost signal halfway down the stairs.
For the first time in days, the silence was real.
Others were already there.
Different ages, different faces—but none had visible implants. No floating. No data projections. No perfect stiffness.

—You’re late,
a man said, leaning against a rusted pillar.

—That says enough already.
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Chapter 1
The Empty Coffin

In the twenty-second century, dying without implants was considered an eccentricity.
Dying without implants and choosing burial was almost a cultural offense.
That was why my grandfather’s funeral felt wrong from the beginning.
Ceremonial drones hovered above the cemetery, suspended in perfect silence. Around me, people whispered through neural links, exchanging regulated condolences and calibrated sympathy.
I had none of that.

—It’s still insane to reject enhancements at this point…
a woman murmured behind me.

I didn’t listen. My eyes were fixed on the coffin.

Black. Plain. Old.
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Ich suche Unterstützung bei der Literaturrecherche für meine Dissertation auf Deutsch. Wo finde ich

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It's too bad Nietzche was portrayed as some sort of bizarre/crazed nihilist by the hypocrites he accurately characterizes (if in a sorta philosophical-generalization manner) and then his legacy/thought was further tarnished by (german) nazis cherry-picking portions of his work to justify their aims (a common trope, see the "controversy" of canada using a verbatim quote from ronald reagan that laid bare the absurdity of ronald mcdonald's approach to trade policy)... anywho, the standard "if it seems too good to be true" quip seems fitting~

though, more than two or three senates and bros be ready to check-the-fuck-out, ya know

"In that we observe the most fatal sort of megalomania that the earth has ever seen: little
abortions of bigots and liars began to claim exclusive rights in the concepts of "God,"
"the truth," "the light," "the spirit," "love," "wisdom" and "life," as if these things were
synonyms of themselves and thereby they sought to fence themselves off from the
"world"; little super-Jews, ripe for some sort of madhouse, turned values upside down in
order to meet their notions, just as if the Christian were the meaning, the salt, the standard
and even thelast judgment of all the rest. . . . The whole disaster was only made possible
by the fact that there already existed in the world a similar megalomania, allied to this
one in race, to wit, the Jewish: once a chasm began to yawn between Jews and Judaeo
Christians, the latter had no choice but to employ the self-preservative measures that the
Jewish instinct had devised, even against the Jews themselves, whereas the Jews had
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What is not created in man's image, if only in a strictly biological sense?

smart bro on adam smith on decadence and depravity
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUw3iSRCYwM

danny brown on wit and intellectual titillation
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbrJCKzPZg0

chinese girls on whatever makes sense 巫
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9h35l8b9RBU

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song lyrics are literature...

...what's not literature if there is words slash symbolic communication? 井dminnor

Families when a child is born
Hope it will turn out intelligent.
I, through intelligence
Having wrecked my whole life,
Only hope that the baby will prove
Ignorant and stupid.
Then he'll be happy all his days
And grow into a cabinet minister.
https://poemanalysis.com/su-tung-po/on-the-birth-of-a-son/

"Fix" Sisters of Mercy/Andrew Eldritch
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Sup guys. Probably the wrong place to ask, but you may have noticed how increasingly difficult has getting online books for free become up to this days, and I was wondering if there are some resurces I may be overlooking and you could share. Thanks in advance.

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26/M. Can someone recommend a book on how one would become an alpha fucking male? I'm too generous and nice. I want to learn how to not give a fuck. And how to talk to women because I have absolutely no game.