A common thing that you heard today was that n are hard to please.
But I disagree. n were pretty easy to please. You either used sex, violence, challenges, or food. That was what got us excited; that was what made us move. There were a lot of videos about n doing the dumbest shit, yet they were happy.
To n, the ones who often went unseen, unheard, or unvalidated. It took very little. There were the farrs, oil rig workers, miners, soldiers, plumbers, electricians, bricklayers, and so many more.
While the modern wan bitched about the patriarchy, they only saw the top 1% of n. For the rest of us, we weren't even seen as human. In that way of living, we had to find what little joy we had to keep on going. And sadly that used to be a wife and kids.
Now?
When most marriages ended in divorce, could we really fault n for walking away? Funnily enough, this trend is evident in both the East and the West. As won grew smarter, they tried to fill our shoes. And, of course, so of them could.
But then why would we even need them? What n needed was a loving wife. We didn't need a stronger partner. We wanted soone who would welco us when we ca ho after a long day. Soone who would appreciate our efforts and want to pamper us.
It didn't matter what the world thought so long as we had our own little kingdom. But as most n were denied even that, we returned to our roots. And that was, of course, violence. Violence had the greatest and most basic way of releasing stress.
I have seven wonderful wives. But Zanele's lectures bottled up my anger. It all began to boil over. The fact that soone toyed with my precious won. That even my own life was used as soone else's experint. And the realization that I was not a hero but a re chess piece.
'I an they told even my own feelings were fake. Who the fuck wouldn't get annoyed?'
While I never really imagined being the savior of the world, who didn't want to be the protagonist? The one to save the world, kick ass, and get the girl. But to hear that I was only the latest in a long line of heroes who had been nothing but fucking failures made my blood boil.
In reality, I sent my won away for this very reason. I loved them so much. And with them with , I knew I could handle anything. But there were still parts of I didn't want them to see. Parts I grew ashad of.
'Exa.'
[Yes, my lord?]
'Do you have a way to fake my link?'
[No, I do not, my lord.]
'How did the Sirens do it?'
[They refrained from making a program as they knew you would ask for it. Instead, they asked Lady Vela to implant suggestions in their minds. Whenever their emotions rose, it stopped them.]
'Sigh, my girls really are the best. They had Jo brainwash them. Very well. Send a ssage to my girls. Tell them I need to vent.'
[I understand.]
Upon hearing that, I closed my links. The warmth of the Sirens that soothed my soul abruptly disappeared. In its place was an absolute void. At that realization, I grew even more irritated.
"This fucking world! Why can't you just let fuck my harem and let be happy!"
Yelling in frustration, I brought my spiked mace down on the boar's aty stomach. Like a beanbag chair, the contents of the stomach shifted. My strike ripped apart the flesh, skin, and organs. From the holes, fountains of red gushed out.
[Henry!]
[On it, Granny!]
But 30mm {Restore} rounds from three Ripsaws structured up the holes in a single mont. Yet I couldn't care less.
"FUCK the Revenants! Fuck the Successors! Fuck the Undead! Fuck the Revenant Project! FUCK YOU ALLL!!! ARGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Taking a step back, I raised both my arms and used the mace as a mallet. Using my elbows and shoulders as fulcrums, I sent the Faker Morning Star hurtling to the pig!
"BUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHIIIII!!!!!"
As I was tenderizing pork, ripples like those on the surface of water flowed through the boar's skin. Squirts of blood like those from an overgrown pimple gushed out all over the place. The boar's hide managed to hold together. For now.
After all, I was not only venting on this pig from one place but from seven others.
___
I was having an unofficial competition with Sabel on the boar's back. My goal was to break the pig's spine. Hers to ensure it wouldn't. Naturally, I put my everything into each strike. But Sabel nuked the entire length of the boar's back with {Restore} Switchblades.
I wiped the sweat coming off my brow as I called to her, "Daughter, do you really think you can stop ?"
[HEHEHEHE! Of course I can, Daddy! You may be the coolest ever, but I am still an AI!]
Drawing my arms back, I smiled, "Do your best then. You haven't seen anything yet!"
I swung with all my might and heard the sharp crunch of thousands of bones fracturing. Shifting my leg, I twisted my core. Like a top, I used my montum to spin the Faker morning star. The revolving swing allowed to recover faster for a second strike!
CRACK!
As my weapon sliced the hide open, blood gushed out in disgusting amounts. But I didn't stop. Faster and faster I spun. I kept hamring the spine of the boar. As the monster was as large as a house, it was like trying to break the core pillar of a building.
But I didn't mind; the reverberations I saw as my blows made the flesh tremble pleased greatly. I was extrely aerodynamic because of {Carry}, so I didn't encounter air resistance. Like a at grinder, chunks of the boar's at were torn off by the spikes!
[Ahhh! Daaadyyy! That's cheating!]
Sabel tried to heal the pig by raining Switchblade 300s along the worst-damaged parts. But she wasn't fast enough. After who knows how many blows, I tore enough at that I finally saw the bone of the spine. I then went after it like a hamr on a nail!
[DADDDYYY!!! STOP!!!]
Despite my cute daughter's screams, I did not. There were no soulgems here, so I didn't need to be careful. I bashed a single part of the pillar like bone again and again. Each of my strikes caused the fractures to grow deeper. Until it finally cracked and broke.
{ARGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!}
A soul-powered scream resounded. But that hardly mattered. I began to thank Africa for birthing this motherfucker. I finally found the best punching bag ever.
"Say it to soone who cares," I grunted.
___
On the Pig's face, a couple of my avatars were having the ti of our lives. We were playing pass the boar. Like a tennis ball, its massive head bounced to the left and right. Thanks to its imnsely thick neck, there was no danger of it getting decapitated.
'I think. Not that it actually matters.'
Monday and Tuesday positioned ourselves on the left and right sides of its checks. As if we were playing tennis, we swung our spiked mallets on the boar's face. The sharp ends dug and tore flesh off from it.
When we began, it was still screaming. But after its eyes, snout, and mouth got fucked up it quieted. Henry's MAARs have been raining 40mm {Restore} grenades on it, but it was too slow. The damage outpaced his recovery.
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