#sorry for this boring ass shipping manifesto
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I had this post in my drafts about how I’m completely at peace with the fact that Anders and Fenris never get along in canon. Like, I’ll write fics where they met under different circumstances, or were supported enough to feel like the other’s experiences were less of an attack on their personal identities, or were otherwise given external reasons to bury the hatchet. But in terms of the canon game, I think it did a very good job of highlighting the similarities between the characters while just- letting them trigger the fuck out of each other. Of course they’re not going to find the mental energy to be understanding with someone who rubs them this far the wrong way when they have to do it living the incredible stress of being both scrutinised by society at large and actively hunted. And I think that’s more powerful than anything else canon could have possibly said about them.
But then someone else made a surprisingly similar post and I went into the tags looking for other fenders shippers that reblogged it and, lmao, that did not go well for me. I feel like this was pretty predictable in retrospect. People who think they shouldn’t have gotten along in canon don’t wanna think about them being friends or kissing makes a certain kind of sense. But I feel a bit at a loss. I think the easiest way I can explain it is I like the ship bc I found the canon Anders-Fenris relationship narratively satisfying. So satisfying it was in many ways more interesting and revealing than their relationship with Hawke. Like- I definitely learned things about them from their Hawkemances. Like the kind of things they want from a relationship and the kind of devotion they want to express to another person and how. Or that they’re so desperate for Lord Amell’s affection and approval and help they’ll lie like there’s no tomorrow to get it. But, yeah, I definitely wouldn’t call either canon romance narratively satisfying in the same way Anders and Fenris hating each other and never getting along in canon precisely because they have each other’s number down perfectly was absolutely fucking delicious. And that makes me want to poke at them and examine them from all angles and test the lengths that I have to go to radically change the quality of their relationship in a way I wouldn’t with just any pair of characters.
#sorry for this boring ass shipping manifesto#thinking about the fenhawke legacy dlc dialogue where anders says fenris ran from his family straight to dany straight to hawke#and fenris can't deny it but that doesn't mean he can't seethe with rage#and it's all the worse bc anders just compared hawke and dany and anders STILL is so jealous of fenris and wants to fuck hawke so badly#they're so fucking embarrassing i cannot deal#lork dragon age opinions
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River of Tears pt. 2
Ayyyyy there’s more!
“How were your days, pups?” Erik asked his children easily as he gave all three of them hugs. It was their joke, from that time a child with no filter had said Erik had a smile like a shark. It still made his kids smile, though Pietro wriggled uncomfortably when Erik gave him his brief hug.
“Fine,” Wanda answered serenely.
“Okay,” Pietro said with a shrug.
“Aunt Raven has two boyfriends!” Lorna blurted excitedly.
Erik raised an eyebrow. Raven was Lorna’s tutor, and she and Erik sometimes got beers with Emma to complain about their lives. He’d known Raven was getting serious with Azazel—they’d had a kid together, after all, who would be about the twins’ age now—but he hadn’t known there was a second man in the picture. “Did she tell you that you could tell others?” Erik asked, tweaking Lorna’s nose gently.
“No.” Lorna pouted a little, knowing that her papa would not let her regale them all with tales of the two boyfriends if she did not have permission.
“Alright then.” Erik kissed her forehead. “Get her permission and tell me everything.”
Lorna brightened at that.
The three children and Erik squeezed into the tiny kitchen of their small house and made dinner all together. Lorna practiced her control with knives and the peeler, Peter and Wanda bickered about some school gossip, and Erik hummed softly as he made spaghetti sauce from scratch.
He’d had a good day at the steel mill. They had tried to promote him three times, but instead he’d just asked for a raise, and gotten it; and now he was the highest-paid quality checker at the mill. He deserved it. Even his enemies grudgingly admitted that Erik was the greatest asset. He could do literally any job at the mill, his mutation was instrumental in keeping everyone safe and the machines working properly, and he genuinely enjoyed the work. He was a little pissed that they still hadn’t replaced the machines so they would be safer, but not enough to do more than send periodic memos.
Erik smiled to hear Lorna squeal gleefully, “Papa, I did it, I did it! None of them warped!”
“Excellent!” Erik turned and hugged Lorna, checking the metal of the knives just to be sure; but they were still sharp and in perfect condition. “I’m proud of you, pup.”
Lorna grinned up at him.
Dinner was eaten around the tiny table, with barely enough elbow room for all of them. But the children talked easily to their papa, and he spoke gently to his pups, in a way that would’ve made his coworkers gape in shock. He blinked in surprise, though, to hear Pietro casually mention, “Oh, that Haller kid who abandoned his dad, I told him off for it. He’s an ass.”
“I did, too!” Wanda exclaimed, surprised. “He’s still a selfish little kid. I hope he grows up soon.”
“How old is he, again?” Erik asked.
“Sixteen,” the twins said in unison, then glared at each other. When they were younger they would laugh when they spoke in unison; now they were eighteen and tired of it, but it seemed like it was just something that was going to happen forever. Erik and Lorna had made their peace with it.
Erik hummed thoughtfully. Then he told his children, “I don’t think you should bring it up to him again. He might listen, he might not, but it isn’t your problem.”
Pietro scowled, but nodded. Wanda sighed and nodded too.
After clean-up, the kids all got out their homework and Erik worked on the new porch. He was putting in a newer, better ramp up to the front door for his mother’s visits, and he wanted to build a porch to match. He trusted his children to work hard and help each other while he wasn’t there, and they had never betrayed that trust. The thought warmed him, and he hummed Star Wars songs as he finished anchoring the ramp to the new porch.
When Pietro came out for his evening run, Erik packed up his tools and materials and put them away in the garage. Then he went in, to see Lorna lounging on the couch with a book and Wanda still at the table, scowling as she chewed her pencil. Erik ruffled Lorna’s hair in passing and sat beside Wanda.
“What’s stumping you?” he asked.
Wanda shoved her book at him. He raised his eyebrow, recognizing Les Mis when he saw it. “I’m supposed to write an essay about Marius and Cosette,” she muttered, “But they’re boring to me. I wanna write about Enjolras.”
Erik smiled. He’d always identified with Enjolras far more than anyone else, too. But he felt more like Valjean these days; protective of his children, trying to redeem himself…
No, better not to think of that.
“Alright. So do that,” he told Wanda.
She stared at him. “But the teacher said we had to write about Marius and Cosette,” she protested.
“Break the rules,” Erik said in a reasonable tone. “You told me this teacher is fairly conservative; shake him up a little bit. Write about Enjolras and his struggles. Write about his charisma, how he drew together Les Amis de l’ABC. Write about his relationship with violence. Write about whatever you want.” Erik smiled to see a fire begin in Wanda’s eyes, as she began to grin. “Break the damn rules, Wanda.”
She lunged and hugged her father tightly, then turned back to her notebook and began to write at a furious pace. Erik kissed her head and stood to go check on Lorna.
~
Charles was exhausted when he got home to see David playing video games and a grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich waiting on the counter, still warm.
Charles went first to David and leaned down to kiss his head, earning an annoyed grumble, then turned and went to eat. It was much better than he could’ve done. He got out the papers that needed to be graded, and spent three hours on them. Then he sighed; he couldn’t put it off much longer.
“Dad?” David called warily.
“It’s fine,” Charles answered, a little too quickly. “Everything’s fine.” He kept his shields up and tight. But he took a deep breath and got out the thirty-page manifesto an anonymous professor had sent him about how he was inherently vile and an abomination and deceptive and all manner of bad things. There was plenty of “You cheated to get your PhD’s” as well. He forced himself to read through it more thoroughly, putting more layers on his shields the further he went so he wouldn’t leak out and hurt David.
Because this did hurt. Reading that people hated him for something he didn’t ask for, something he never used out of fear of retaliation, it was worse than—well, no, it wasn’t worse than his own mother screaming and throwing things when he first showed signs. But it brought up the same fears, the same self-hatred, and he closed his eyes and tightened his shields so hard he couldn’t feel or hear anything but his own thoughts.
But that took up all his concentration, so that he didn’t notice until David had picked up the manuscript that his own son was less than a foot away. Charles gasped out a tiny, “Don’t--!”
And then he lost his grip on his shields.
They didn’t just drop, they crumbled, until there was nothing between himself and the world—and there was nothing between himself and David, because David’s shields broke too under the pressure of Charles’ mind.
Too much to put into words, images flashing past so fast, fear and anger predominant and wild, so many other people that they seemed to meld together, so much horror Dad Dad DAD!
Physical pain broke the connection. He blinked, and realized his wheelchair had tipped, and he’d hit his head very hard on the wooden floor. David was bending over him, terror pouring out of him, and Charles couldn’t breathe, that terror squeezing him as if it were his own—and beyond David, beyond this house, thousands, millions, billions of minds, bleeding into his own—
Shields, shaky and spun out of pure fear, enclosed on his mind, and he slumped on the floor, panting and dazed.
“Oh god oh god oh god, Dad, Dad, say something, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry, Dad—“
Charles reached up and David grabbed his hand. “I’m—I’m fine,” he croaked, the biggest lie he’d ever told. “I’m fine, Davey.”
“You are not fine!” David spat, and began to cry. “Why do you keep saying that?! You’re not fine!”
Charles didn’t need to tell him. David had read everything, just as Charles had. It was love, and cowardice, and blind optimism, because if he kept saying it and kept working towards it, surely it would come true. Everything was going to be fine.
He opened his mouth to say this, then thought better of it, and set about calming his mind. It was hard. It was harder than anything he’d ever done before. His heart was still pounding, and his head was beginning to ache. But he managed, somehow. He pushed his own emotions aside, and gently removed those of everyone else, and rebuilt his shield. When he was done, he was exhausted, and David had stopped crying, and was just staring at Charles’ hand, still gripped by both of his own.
“Help me up, please,” Charles murmured.
David scrambled to help him, and when Charles was set straight he stood there in front of Charles and looked at him, his own expression so helpless that Charles couldn’t stop from thinking of that little six year old whose mommy had dropped him off at his daddy’s house and never came back. Phone calls and letters and shipped presents, those weren’t enough for a small child.
Charles held out his arms automatically, but David backed away, shaking his head. So Charles put down his arms.
There was a silence, heavy and uncertain and unhappy. Then David turned and went to his room.
Charles bit his lip and refused to cry for his son.
~
Peter was surprised when David curled up on the wall, hugging his knees and hiding his face, and refused to be goaded, threatened, or entreated into participating. Peter approached cautiously, and slowly sat beside David, not too close. He didn’t want David to lash out. Not that Peter couldn’t avoid him easily, but it was the thought that counted.
“Dude,” Peter said, and David responded.
“Go away,” he croaked, voice cracking.
“No,” Peter responded. But he didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, watching the class, and feeling irritated with the world. At least Dad let him take runs.
He was aware of tiny pushes to go away, to forget David even existed, to leave him alone, but they didn’t feel like his own thoughts, so he ignored them easily. Aunt Emma had taught him plenty about learning what his own thoughts felt like, him and Wanda. Lorna was still learning, but she was getting there.
Peter smirked when the pushes stopped.
~
Wanda had conferred with Peter over lunch, and was therefore prepared when David shuffled in looking like Death warmed over. Wanda was better at sharing thoughts than Peter; when David sat down, Wanda sent him a tiny bit of warmth.
His head snapped around and he gaped at her. She gazed back calmly, and carefully formed the words, Are you properly sorry?
David nodded.
Wanda sent another little bit a warmth and a single word; Good. Then, for good measure, she wrapped her arm around David’s shoulders and gave a quick squeeze before letting go and going back to her worksheet as if nothing had happened.
At the end of class, she heard a soft voice in the back of her head; Thank you.
You’re welcome, she replied.
~
David wondered if the Maximoffs knew what they had done. Probably not.
Dad was still dealing with the assholes who were trying to get him fired. David hadn’t meant to hear the fight Dad had had with some of the other professors yesterday, it had just—it had just happened. He still didn’t know how their walls had broken at the same time, but he knew Dad’s had fallen a split second before that terrifying pressure had cracked David’s shields like a nut.
David had never heard that many voices before. If that’s what Dad had dealt with, what he’d always tried to protect David from—David was glad of his protection. It had been so scary, though, to—to basically be in his own father’s head, to see everything, hear everything, even the dark and private things David had never known about his dad, and then see Dad’s eyes glaze over and his face go blank and he just fell and David had been so scared, hadn’t known what to do—
David sat in his car after school and stared at the steering wheel, shivering, automatically making people look away from him without really thinking about it. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to hide in his car all night and in the morning drive away, just—just drive so far away.
Someone tapped on his window.
He jumped and his head snapped up, to see the Maximoff twins standing there, looking grave. Gingerly, he rolled down the window.
“You need help?” Peter asked bluntly.
“No,” David tried to say firmly, but it came out ragged. He could feel determination radiating off them. It made him feel small and weak. Dad had always said he was strong, but—shouldn’t he be able to control himself, if he were strong?
“Yes you do,” Wanda corrected. “Meet us in the gym after school tomorrow, and we’ll have help for you.”
Then they walked away.
David gaped after them. Then, when they had climbed into the van and driven away, he rolled up his window and drove home very carefully.
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Predictive Dialer
The personal history of The Puppet Master.
Chapter I, Hello my name is
This is a fictitious personal story, everything about me is fictitious or nearly so, somewhere down the line I have lost myself in the list of my fictional identities. I mean I could lead a normal life, like anyone else, but am not anyone else, am not anyone I know.
I am a hacker and an assassin with the government, also a political engineer, a social engineer, I hold degrees in computing, psychology and anthropology and the list of my fictive identities peaked at 2000 at some point. I am not who you know and there are chances that you will never know who I am.
The kind of people that don’t exist. Even though I do exist, and this is my story.
All I know is you. I know you from other people, unlike common assassins I do not only assassinate people, I delete them, from nearly existing records including online databases and search engines. I do so because they are a threat to national security or interests of Japan, often overlapping with those of other nations.
Also not your common assassin in the sense that I am responsible for more than 6000 assassinations both direct and indirect. Which means that I pay money for murder. A lot of it.
My legal responsibilities, none I am entitled to killing you by the government, actually by several.
Do I know the precise number of my assumed identities and murders, no I go through brainwashing every year. Chances are I will never remember having met you or who did I kill last year. I have become amnesic I know that much, it’s a faculty that I use to discard anything that is not relevant to my mission.
Have you ever heard the movie line “If I tell you I have to kill you”? It’s true for me I have to kill you if I tell you who I am. And I told some people, a lot of people, and I killed them.
A lot of things that I might tell you or write to you on that email come from movie scripts, b series mostly. Even revealing my speech syntax is going too far, I make spelling errors, syntax errors, I speak Jamaican Patois. And I write presidential speeches in my spare time.
What you would call a genius or a useful idiot. I have a 100M USD limit on my credit card and stay in places where you need that kind of credit cards to stay which are not too many. So chances of knowing me are slim, its only a few people that do. And not from the call center room where I learned both to know people and to manipulate them.
I started taking call in a foreign intelligence institute where I was raised with other high capability orphan kids. Taking calls was a way to communicate with the outside, we didn’t go out and never seen other faces.
I kept taking calls and serviced maybe 110 000 calls over a period of 20 years. I take calls from home to keep busy, I do tech support for Microsoft, commercial support for Ebay, shipping with Fedex, I do customer support for Amazon, and engineering support with Oracle and SUN Microsystems.
I do read your mails and browse your digital albums and I am not telling. You have to understand that I am not obliged to tell, legally I don’t exist. Out of convenience.
Maybe you think that I am American as well, I do have a long list of American identities and maybe am also a CIA agent. To which we are going to add Section 9 with the Foreign Ministry of Japan, MI6 fond of that, am also a member of the South African intelligence services how strange is that.
It’s very thin what you have so far and we are going to keep it that way. I am actually imitating the style of a native American writer, I can do so with over a dozen different languages.
If you would excuse me, I am going to the roof to enjoy the fresh night and listen to G-Dragon, you know G-DRAGON fond of that. It’s nice to see that your mind is distracted by an internationally know star and you’re even imaging it, I could have killed you twice before you read this. Distractions are no good in the line of business we’re in. If you do not stay focused on me am wasting you, anything is a context, everywhere is a setting, those are not pedestrians walking by you they are agents, and you’re dying in that street.
Lets go back to basics my significant other, inasmuch as you rise up to your potential to change lives and the world indeed. This is redacted on notepad as it should and if you do not know the hacker manifesto by The Mentor then you should read it. And if you know it you should learn it by heart because we are all here to hack life. Life is waiting to be hacked into the greater thing, and its up to you. If you know how.
         \/\The Conscience of a Hacker/\/
                by
             +++The Mentor+++
          Written on January 8, 1986 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
 Another one got caught today, it’s all over the papers.  "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", “Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering”…  Damn kids.  They’re all alike.
 But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950’s technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker?  Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?  I am a hacker, enter my world…  Mine is a world that begins with school… I’m smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me…  Damn underachiever.  They’re all alike.
 I’m in junior high or high school.  I’ve listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction.  I understand it.  "No, Ms. Smith, I didn’t show my work.  I did it in my head…“  Damn kid.  Probably copied it.  They’re all alike.
 I made a discovery today.  I found a computer.  Wait a second, this is cool.  It does what I want it to.  If it makes a mistake, it’s because I screwed it up.  Not because it doesn’t like me…      Or feels threatened by me…      Or thinks I’m a smart ass…      Or doesn’t like teaching and shouldn’t be here…  Damn kid.  All he does is play games.  They’re all alike.
 And then it happened… a door opened to a world… rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict’s veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought… a board is found.  "This is it… this is where I belong…”  I know everyone here… even if I’ve never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again… I know you all…  Damn kid.  Tying up the phone line again.  They’re all alike…
 You bet your ass we’re all alike… we’ve been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak… the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless.  We’ve been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic.  The few that had something to teach found us will- ing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
 This is our world now… the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud.  We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn’t run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals.  We explore… and you call us criminals.  We seek after knowledge… and you call us criminals.  We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias… and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it’s for our own good, yet we’re the criminals.
 Yes, I am a criminal.  My crime is that of curiosity.  My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.
 I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto.  You may stop this individual, but you can’t stop us all… after all, we’re all alike.
             +++The Mentor+++
Unlike The Mentor, I do judge people on their appearances, but murder wise I am color blind. I kill anything that is designated as a target by the Nakashimura Corporation. Its 246 irrelevant results on Google and we don’t exist. I am also an arms trader. I do that too in a variety of currencies, see that intelligence money has to come from somewhere preferably other than the pockets of the tax payer. So I convinced different security and intelligence agencies to invest in armaments which they did, and we ended holding several arms concerns which put together are Nakashima Corporation.
FSB yes I sell arms for Russia. China as well, North Korea, Japan, Czech Republic, Brazil, Mexico, the US everyone if its a weapon and its good am selling. Where my role and others at Nakashimura Corporation is to convince everyone that just because they have nice weapons they don’t have to use them every time. And we take care of trouble and troublemakers for dozens of governments. We kill them I mean.
Law enforcement still can’t pin a thing me with all this, am just a voice over the net practicing creative writing which translates somehow into reality and it’s called hacking. All of my stuff is impossible to prove, I rig it as such otherwise I wouldn’t be in this game for so long. I have dozens upon dozens of different passports, I enter and I exit with different passports on a daily basis sometimes, I fly different jets, you have better chances of winning at the lottery twice in the same day than finding me.
It’s my job to find you however. Not you you but you never know could be you. In this intelligence services you need that global perspective it’s the only one that works. And the people is always right, it’s people that are wrong, and they die because of that.
There’s levels in intelligence and government where being wrong gets you killed, terminated with extreme prejudice. Its what we’re talking about here and few have ventured talking about this in active duty. Am on active duty will remain so until I am biologically deceased, I cannot retire because of my agreements with several governments who bailed in Nakashimura because of the guarantee that I represent.
See you can’t say sorry when you’re rotten sorry won’t work for rotten. I cleaned rotten all my life. If its rotten it’s got to go no matter who it is because that person or group of persons constitutes a clear and present danger to the security and safety of all. And we’re talking the whole planet here, so fuck you if you’re wrong you cannot be wrong with the lives of billions around the globe.
Governments through their various agencies are responsible for more than you know, not only for your safety but also those of visiting non nationals. You’re also responsible for your neighboring states security in the case of China, the U.S, etc, etc, . And in the midst of that you have people behind wheels that if they fail the government is gonna bail out of them for good.
It is an equation where individuals are weighted upon the scale of national and global interests. They exist and there are people that represent them. Who will kill you to protect them and do so legally under the authorities, can be several, that they represent.
In that equation you’re of a moderate value if you would pardon me, there are other smarter more intelligent more gifted younger richer more popular more influential more everything better looking fitter taller everything more than you elsewhere. So replacing you will not be an issue, the question is how to dispose of you. Because incompetence at that level has a hefty cost, people want you deceased now.
Remember those people that helped put you there? They want you dead now because you look bad on them. They have burned you at the intelligence agency where you work because they can do that, place a couple of calls to have you wiped out. They have been running that business for longer, they contrary to you are not public figures never will be. And people owe them around the globe, altogether they constitute the intelligence community, the shadow government that you keep on hearing about, it exists and its global and hidden from sight.
In this introduction we should mention that I am also a  surgeon did work on emergencies as a trauma medic on week ends, seen plenty of trauma, I am simply myself unaffected and trying to find a solution like any high ranking Japanese official would. I am pretty dispassionate in person even though I can appear charming. Â
The subject is still young, in good physical condition. And because of his high profile you cannot really just snipe him at a street corner, which I do I am a sniper, I dispose and operate sniping robots maybe we’ll get back to it. So the question is how do you make him go.
And the answer can be found by matching his profile to common fatality cause statistics and finding something that matches. If he is a sportive he might as well die from complications in his routine appendicitis operation. It happens, it’s a statistic and it’s all you need because it is a fact of life. People around you have heard of it, and if not than its people they know, still young died on appendicitis operation complications. It marks people, I call them plastic deaths.
Basing your action on sound stats it’s a lot of work those stats and remaining in the know fatality causes, people are not going to stop dying because they are important or famous. And the cause of their death is going to be spread along these statistics that you have to study.
People are also unsuspecting how easy it is to die, we’re slightly more resistant than bugs. We don’t think of it all the time. Sometimes 2mg of something is all it takes. We’re both very resilient and very fragile and diverse, it’s the work of the Creator, he created us saying nowhere that we’re entitled to a 100 years. Turtles live longer. Some stuff lives almost crazy time I don’t remember what it was. Trees it was some 2000 years.
So the message is do something useful with your life and your time, nobody is eternal and we have a role to play here each of us, and you have to find yours. I am maybe different in the sense that I play many different roles. And that unlike actors these are real life roles, and real lives.
Pilot with Air Canada for a while, allowed me to operate on both the North American and European continents before I bailed. It was being found out that I had eliminated an extensive list of people who had to go for different reasons. It’s not law enforcement that I fear, it’s getting caught on a murder scene like a dummy. And that is why I use robots, and cyborgs. I also hack into cybernetics government, intelligence, diplomacy, and turn them into killers.
A cyborg can lift 6 small cars, if he’s close enough he can kill a person in no time. Call it a malfunction. It’s what the data dump is going to say and its some corporation that is going to underline the paragraph where they say that they are not liable for bodily injury. We live in a world of different hazards of which I make use. I kill with a curare needle that I hide in my hair or sleeve when its personal, or bounce you offside of a busy HSW, high speed highway in your self driving car. In the lane operated by large trucks.
I dislike the amiability of physical contact I like to think of my profession as non physical contact based virtual even, I am more likely to open someones jugular with a Tanto as I pass by, more often than not a complete stranger to my victims. They had never seen me and they will never seen anything again. I use that to my advantage, very few can pin a face to the name, what people have is my nick which is a world in itself if you dig into it. That cyborg that you have in custody now has gotten reset during police transport. As for my identity it is a government different governments top secret, the kind that gets people killed if they find it out.
What I did through all of GITS is saving Aramaki and Kusanagi from getting killed. People were going to fly from different parts of the world and in Japan to kill them and all of Section 6 for violating the Alpha Protocol.  A protocol that states that any member state shall not single single-handedly interfere in any shape or manner in the activities of the Nakashimura Corporation. The corporation that don’t exist and of which I am the CEO and the sitting Minister of both Interior and Foreign Affairs of Japan, not the acting one.
Aramaki wanted me brought in on charges of terrorism relating to the bombing of Panam Air Flight 233 that was carrying a high value target and his staff engaging in currency manipulations of the Yen. Which I did on government orders, I hereby decline any responsibility in that matter.
The helicopter drones that killed the people at the Austrian Foreign Ministry malfunctioned, their function was to guard that meeting not shoot at it I agree completely also not guilty it so happens that I have shares in the corporation that makes them so what. A restaurant full of politicians who didn’t like me much blew up, the documents say a gas leak in the basement, still its me law enforcement is looking at. Listen all I do is to save my skin, I have a licence to kill by the government and I use it.
It is not for you to decide how you are going to die if the government wants you killed. Especially if you work for it as an expendable asset, which all are in the government. Governments are big monsters that eat you raw when you screw up because its too much people to convince that you’re right when you’re wrong.
There was a couple of Yachts, more than a couple, I bomb Yachts pretend its a gas leak. The list of my operations is dizzying and global, so how are people going to die who have to die Mr Aramaki?
You want to feed me to coppers Mr Aramaki because basically you’re a cop and I am just doing my duty same as you so how are the two of us going to get along not well. So you retire, and he did.
Kusanagi boy did she like me and still does lovable but flawed an intelligence profile working in law enforcement. 2501 is part of me always was always will, it is an artificial intelligence which I developed, I actually coded modules and put them in free source, building blocks.
Did a lot of custom stuff on 2501 to be a fix for Kusanagi, I patched the pretty girl with some common sense. That not everything is for law enforcement or fit for public knowledge to run things smoothly. We’re still OK she understands me better and we see where we’re going with this.
I am sorry you didn’t see much of me in GITS, just that visit at the Foreign Affairs Minister’s Residence. I am also coding as the cyborg. What was I coding there it’s a long time already. I was probably stealing something, such as the source code of that pretty secretary and the secrets she knew. She was from the U.S and working at the State Department, at South East Asian Affairs. Maybe I wanted to know what she knew from her boss.
She had a peculiar manner of shaking peoples hands, she threw them to the side. I don’t know why I shook her hand, I tend to avoid body contact or looking at people that am not looking for in the eye. Am a fugitive and a thief, an assassin you know I don’t want you to remember any of me.
She was found on a busy Tokyo highway with half her body missing, identifying her as diplomatic personnel she was taken to Section 9, with her secrets. That I stole.
My kind people we need a higher perspective when approaching GITS, I kill people in tens upon tens of different countries I kill people on their vacations, am I going to tens of different jails, because Aramaki wanted to pin on me all of Nakashimura. Nakashimura’s board is composed of about 20 different intelligence agencies bosses. Are we going to tens of jails or to the ICC altogether? For what for keeping the place out of trouble?
What is it now we have to put it on paper? The government pays people to kill you if needed, if you become a threat to itself and others. Myself included am paid for that. I own shares in Nakashimura I have a separation package and a retirement bonus my living is there, do you understand my living.
There move to the side a little bit please, see you did its called being polite and I just popped the guy behind you twice at waist high, he’s not making to the hospital because my bullets are tainted. And now am going to butt you with my suppressed 6.35 mm so that you lose consciousness after catching a glimpse of maybe my profile is all. I don’t need big bullets in closed spaces and started using smaller and smaller ammo.
I am going to bed now and we will resume this latter, tell you how important the work that we’re doing is. To keep normalcy in people’s lives, to shelter them from harm.
So let us go back to that important business of keeping everyone safe, which is entrusted to security and intelligence agencies both public and secret. We have seen how these people are not only responsible for their nationals, indeed we are entitled to their protection wherever we come from. And on top of that they have to see to the safety of their citizens abroad.
And in that context you have people who are helpful and others who are not, where the real work is to weed out the problem makers that arise with each generation of different individuals, mostly politicians. Populists who think that a majority vote is a blank check to put global security at risk by pursuing agendas which are not everyone’s. There’s a war of agendas out there and personal vendettas that you have to navigate, and navigate it closely.
The other thing is organizations groups and individuals who constitute a threat to global security, activists, terrorists, armed groups, criminal gangs. Because our operations entail that global responsibility and each country should not be a harbor for undue terror and crime. There are ways around indiscriminate killings and terror to solve problems.
It’s not awkward I am saying this even if Aramaki wanted me brought in on terrorism charges, my objectives amounted for nearly all of them to be honest. I went to that restaurant where even the waiter was with them. The press was there all day long feeding on gossip from those scumbags that wanted me dead in their emails and phone conversations which I tapped. The controlled explosion looked like a gas leak 98% of the targets gone. It was, still is a military operation in my eyes.
I killed the 2% left with a cyanide injection in their hospital after that, am used to 100% completion of my tasks. They pay me for being ruthless and am good at it.
I take physical risks, everyday, and risk life behind bars if my legal cover is blown because of you, for your security. Because attempting to my life is a direct attack on both your safety and freedoms my friends. Your freedom of assembly, speech, your rights to pursue happiness away from dangers you might even not suspect I guarantee that my friend, and we’re a few. It’s a whole community which does not seek fame or recognition, rather to be as anonymous as possible to detect and neutralize threats to your daily existence on this planet.
It’s called the intelligence community and it is a well organized well structured efficient community that knows each others from special forces and the army or the navy and air force and training together at various intelligence agencies. Its friendships after that which last a lifetime. You only don’t respect those people because you do not belong there, they know and respect each others as professionals do.
Many come from the corporate world, many are also hackers and computing and telecom engineers, lots of coders as well, intelligence specialists that can decipher encrypted communications because although people are told that they are encrypted for good that is not correct and is a lie. There are no such things as secure telecoms.
People do not dislike scrutiny, they dislike undue scrutiny and they are perfectly right about that. They are relevant to an era called Windows 10, and what they don’t want out of lack of perspective is a future in which an AI is counting your teeth in front of your computer.
The future that nobody can save us from, that’s already there you’re running the finest collection of spyware that we have with Windows 10 everything spies on you there for both the CIA and the NSA as entitled by the Homeland Security Act. Which your representative voted for and that allows for monitoring information highways and wiretapping. I don’t think they even need an injunction for that.
ECHELON listens to your phone conversations globally, for keywords such as bomb and so forth. Its a lot of money shifting through your data and online life or just life in general including what you buy where you go who you know, known illnesses, see that personality test they have you fill on a job interview different governments are doing that on a massive scale with social media and even before that, profiling is a basic function of intelligence services.
This business of taking care of you requires massive amounts of cash, whole datacenters. So going into armaments with Nakashimura was the right thing to do, Nakashimura is one of the first datacenter operators in the world aside from its armaments concern. We have massive datacenters with your data in it and we’re not telling. As expressed by our mandate to protect you, we have to know what people bent on endangering others security are doing.
Extortion and rackets are a threat to any state because they constitute a important source of cash flow which nobody knows where that money is going. And the rule of the game is knowing where money goes.
Are we passing on the information? We are pooling the information, 9/11 changed everything, and global transportation, telecoms and financial or banking infrastructure became a concern to all. With the goal of identifying the threats to our collective security. The ability to board a plane and cross the Atlantic to commit a terrorist act and the ease with which it was carried through made us understand that we do need to bridge the gaps with more cooperation to keep the world an open an safe place for all and not a collection of ghettos. More cooperation was not an option it was the only solution. Anywhere in the world is a couple of hours by plane.
Our problems are not with each others, they are with those that are a threat to all of us.
And I became a star like that in intelligence services, oh what a star I was surveyed constantly and had to change residence every week because groupie agents from different services wanted to meet me by any means.Young, rich, good looking, and with a bright future, also on top of my game have been for an awful long time people who don’t like me around the world bounced, I made them so, some personally. My Muppet shows because I make them only fed into the frenzy.
I am a puppeteer have been since childhood. I make shows for my friends and also live TV shows where I animate different puppets. Of course I am not visible, its my only claim to fame, I can’t show you my face but I can show you my Muppets.
I did pursue a short career as a professional punk rock artist with a punk rock group. We visited several small clubs here and there. Where the goal was not getting famous or known. Tokyo, New York, Stockholm, Mexico D.F, we went to plenty of places, we made good money the band should have been a success and it was. It’s just the big name thing that didn’t go with it, indeed am proud to say that all five of us we’re have been always will be true punk rock artists. To the letter, we could have become big at the switch of a button.
We had the fan love and everything was okay, even if people were not allowed to bring in cameras or smartphones inside. We met them backstage like true rock stars. We enjoyed the moment. And its some of the best years that I remember. Became a rock star at several large corporations, I am also a member of the boards of different multinationals of which Sony, Kyocera and Mitsubishi Corporation, GM. Plus the banks. Its a few hours a every couple of months, sets the agenda for what we want to do.
Am grey haired now I have lived and continue to live a full life. And I hope that is the same for you, where the possibilities are limited only by your imagination and and capacity at achieving things and being who you want to be. In life we play different roles after that its maybe something in you that makes you discover that there are many useful roles that you can play in life.
And you work to achieve that as well, surgeon is a very important experience, it teaches about human suffering so that you do not take it lightly. Trauma surgeons have the capacity not to bail or faint in front of what they see to keep cool at all times to be focused on saving a life, I wanted to acquire that capacity which was not easy, hey nothing in life is.
Chapter II, Fedex Yakuza
Biking is a big part of it, and I did use superbikes to commit driveby shootings, of targets and their security in HSW systems around the world. Its a long string of them from Tokyo to New York and Mexico. Paris, Place de l’Etoile. And then I disappear by magic like in the movies no, I am an intelligence services member, my escape is already planned with a diplomatic car waiting for me a couple of blocs away. And the bike is going as well I never leave anything behind.
I use subcompacts with high velocity bullets that are Teflon coated. If its not a heavy armored glass that you have you are dying. Everyone in that car is, we’re clocking 320km per hour on a smooth ride where the nearest exit for you is death. And where bullets are going to fly through your car literally so. Your driver you, your important guest everyone is a goner. And if you’re not dead already that crash will finish you off because am leaving you without wheels.
That security which you have been taken care of as well, rounds of explosive bullets did it for them. It’s a military operation with things that are not commercially available such as explosive rounds, depleted uranium bullets, titanium tip bullets and ceramic bullets. I am also a member of different special forces and I make my own gear, which is either or metal or kevlar.
I was of course labelled a Yakuza, and I used to do delivery work for Fedex, am not saying it was a Fedex bike. Maybe it was. Anyways so Fedex Yakuza was very gratifying and revolved around hacking both Fedex and several HSW and police networks around the globe. I had them shut down traffic where I wanted and divert it to where I wanted. Usually close to an airport.
Nitro, Fedex Yakuza, Tokyo Babe, they had me leave my lifestyle that I wanted. Because of the attention. Am also your banker, used to work at Chase in New York and I had a bike, bikes are very convenient in large cities. The rest of it is armored convoys with military grade armor and helicopters to survey the area. Gunships that is correct. Am no different than the President, if anything I have more responsibilities than he has, he probably answers to his government whereas I answer to several. People think its him and am glad for that.
I stayed in Tokyo often, I feel more anonymous because its a large city I was stuck with the drifting scene, nobody knew what I was doing. My cover was courier for Fedex. Tokyo Babe is because some girlfriends. Still girlfriends.
So yes the drifting scene you can make some money there on your day offs if you’re not exhausted from work, serious money too and contacts, who mostly Yakuzas. Have you ever met Yakuza bosses, Oyabun? They’re impressive I met them soon enough, although branded by my Yakuza friends as a disloyal racer I always paid people their cash, even bailed some of them from losses. The thing was not losing too often and I had a business several Oyabun wanted to know about.
They said that I was a smart young man, and that they both wanted to give me different things to run, because trustworthiness is rare and they were sure that I would never steal anything from them. And they smiled they said they knew about all of the rest and that I could count on them as well.
Two weeks later I was received by the Emperor of Japan, I was 24.
But before that we need to go back to the world of drifting in Tokyo, and the city itself. It’s very lively to say the least and you meet everybody there. The city is extensively large Neo Tokyo is, at least 2 times the size of Tokyo in the 2020's. Its ruled by the almighty HSW, which incorporates high speed rail as well.
And its a young crowd, rich parents or having things going on for them, they’re into biking big time, they train for it. And they race, that is the part that is both fun and illegal. Very lucrative however, I had succeeded in assembling a small team of racers. And we did some serious cash. Its not only bikes its also cars.
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Where were we I am back to writing this, my aversion for getting caught also made me averse of physical contact. I dislike shaking hands or hugging or anything getting in my comfort zone. If you can touch me you may as well put me in jail. I have bodyguards and people have been routinely placated to walls and grounds. No physical contact is something I am fond of, its a costly security that won’t care how famous you are.
Contrary to most famous people my only claim to fame is in the punk rock scene where one of the stated goals is not to become famous. The rest of it a lot of board meetings at different multinationals, and meetings in general in places where few people other than senior intelligence officers have business. And I am keeping it that way, notoriety can do nothing for me, I am already famous for plenty of reasons, not all legal. I am the side of law enforcement that is frowned upon.
I play the identity game, I forge the identities that I have use for, that allow me to blend in with normal life. As just about anyone else. Normalcy is important to me, and when I see it go away am in a plane in no time. I avoid attention and trouble like the plague.
Do I meet people, I meet plenty of people, but not by chance as anyone would. I carefully know about them beforehand and why we are meeting. If we’re having fun its probably at some event that I set up where I am going to blend in as a guest, some corporate event or corporate sponsored event. I can’t go to public events, that are for the public. My world exists outside of public scrutiny.
I can also stay home for weeks at a time, mostly remote mansions, the kind of remote that makes people think. Or we want to go back to my resume maybe.
The Puppet Master That phantom hacker, right?
They think he’s an American.
Age, sex, personal history Everything about him is unknown.
Since last winter he’s been mainly active in the EC.
Internationally wanted on dozens of charges of.
stock manipulation, assassinations, spying, political engineering, special operations, cyberwarfare, spying for intelligence, conducting counter-intelligence including military and economical, weapon and weapon systems design, mercenary forces, sabotage, propaganda, counter-propaganda, counterfeiting, violation of cyber-brain privacy, regime change, hacking, ransom, racket, organized crime, commodities price manipulation, kidnapping, social engineering, phreaking, computer virus design, patent theft, intelligence tampering, proof tampering, fake indictments, financial theft, book tampering, property and intellectual property theft, blackmail
He’s ghost-hacked so many people to carry out his crimes he’s earned the code name “The Puppet Master.”
This is the first instance of him operating in this country.
The reason why I am writing this book is also to set the record straight about a very important matter. People just see that side to it, especially law enforcement as previously spearheaded by Aramaki. Me no, I am a government official, by many chances higher up than you even if you are willfully made to ignore it. It is not because you work for the government or even intelligence that we are telling you everything. And you can die for trying to discover my identity like what was going to happen to Aramaki and his whole section.
There are agreements to which different governments are party in order to be able to collaborate in intelligence services for the benefit of all. And these agreements entail that Nakashimura personnel is covered by a blanket of secrecy in order to ensure their protection. And there is a protocol in case that secrecy is breached because it jeopardizes people’s and operations safety, its called the Alpha Protocol. Ringing anyone high up at your government will not do anything for you except put you on some loonie watchlist.
It exists however and it is enforced. Also the people that you know that are high up, are sorry to say public figures. There are other more important faces the government is not showing to the press and its those that matter. Anyone would be a fool to think that something as important as a country is fully entitled to people who come and go with elections. I know, I was General at 28. Anyone of those Generals weights more than a freshly elected President.
So you have the army on top of everything else, the life that you are living is army R&R where you can have fun and even shoot some bullets but not too many. The minute you wake up to the fact that after that you have intelligence agencies and the police both national and Interpol. Those are guys that the army guys put on your back as civilians to keep the place ruly. If you are not wearing 4 stars you might as well not exist. Â
You will, always have been, always will be a civilian. And you enter politics where you might become expandable, nobody is telling you that the army will snipe you in the head if you piss them off. To them you are a civilian, and they hate civilians. Those Generals are the last ones who are going to tell a freshly elected President that they will kill him if needed, but look at them President, most of them already have plenty of civilian blood on their hands.
Armed coups happen in places where the President is not careful with the army, he does something stupid such as putting the country at risk. They will kill you because of that, they will kill anyone they don’t know from the army or services. And then they will pretend some wacko did it, organize new elections put someone else there for the press, to keep repeating government policies like a parrot and not make any trouble.
They will kill you for free even take the money from some black fund. Fuck you if you play them for dummies. Half those professional killers that are good at it come from the army or special forces. And you’re swimming in the middle of all that as a civilian, an elected civilian still a civilian, always will be a civilian, I seen scores of civilians go no matter how high up for putting the army in shit, scores of them.
Aside from being averse to physical contact I have also developed a fear of airstrikes, and that is why I am also a General at the FSB, attempting on my life in that manner is equivalent to declaring war on Russia. It’s not the same fears that you have they’re different a lot of things are different. I think that my agreement with them mentioned a nuclear grade retaliation against any party responsible.
I make weapons for Russia, as well as weapons systems, nuclear warheads, submarines, planes, so surely yes the retaliation would be a nuclear strike against who’s responsible. It’s good to be open about one’s fears, fears tell a lot about someone, and you can see how my life is different from yours. Maybe that is what go you interested in me.
Maybe go back to my time in Tokyo as a courier for Fedex and a street racer with some Yakuzas, its a world in itself and its a part that I can best complete while visiting Tokyo which is not now.
This exercise of writing a book and talking about me is something new, both are new. I never put anything personal on paper and I never wrote a whole book. I put some chapters there that we are going to work to fill to the best of my recollections, because I am also amnesic.
I was young at the time, freshly graduated from the academy at 22, I flew fighter jets, and had a PhD in applied physics. My thesis was on quantum computing. I wanted to do something in my life, biking most of all and that courrier job at Fedex was just perfect same as the street racing. Then some people at the government showed up with a list of targets, mostly users of HSW and visiting foreigners. They said that they had to go for the higher interest of Japan and that my job now was to use my intelligence skills to terminate them on HSW.
I did, I killed plenty of them, in fact all of them. And I became a Colonel with the secret services. People blamed Yakuzas for these assassinations, while many others have been simply cleaned up. They came and they took everything made it look like new. Was it a Fedex bike yes just maybe people and their security have been less suspecting because of that, Fedex and other courriers from DHL and UPS were a frequent sight on the HSW and that came with high velocity bikes that had semi cockpits.
The rest of it was high velocity drive by’s using titanium tip bullets and explosive rounds, mostly in tunnels. Traffic was then diverted while secret services crews cleaned the scene. Being VIP’s they were used to empty lanes. I do not know their functions or identities, they’re bygone trackers on my GPS and its better that way.
The clubbing scene was perfect, I mean I barely seen anyone except those institute kids until I was 18, then I studied a lot until 22. It’s not that I barely seen anyone its that I had lived pretty much like a hermit. So Tokyo was like a huge ongoing 24/7 event. And it can be when you’re into biking and racing, it’s two items that are big in Tokyo.
We ended up pushing the world that Akira fed us, and Neo Tokyo was no different in the sense that it was large and extensive. It was also much more policed than the apocalyptic world you see in Akira. The police turned a blind eye to races quite often. For the very reason that HSW was so big that it was impossible to stop all those races from taking place, there was races and racing teams in almost each district of Neo Tokyo.
I lay there in the murky underworld of the drifting scene of Toyko, on the scope of the police because of my Yakuza acquaintances, and secret services offered me a blank check to make millions of yens in between the cover for my racing business and the hit money. I became rich, had a loft with a private lift in Shibuya. Things were going too well, and then it became clear that I had to bail out because of all the attention.
I found out in the couple of years where I was learning the scene that the scene was also learning me, which is no good in my line of business because I am a also secret agent. Its a question of temperament as well I dislike being spied upon so I never put myself in that position, it is not a rumor I do fly stratospheric jets and pretty much nobody knows where they are going.
Chapter III, Help me am Amnesic
I puppetize people I do that, it’s not for nothing that they call me the Puppet Master, I puppetized Aramaki maybe he’s reading this, and I did it with style his only way out was a resignation letter and I forced him into that way out.
Its is a lot of invisible strings in what we do, call them duty or loyalty, friendships, debts, ambition, greed. Or simply being human where we have both needs expressed or not and cravings, there are things you can fail at such as being attentive. 99% of what I do is preparation and 1% of it is distracting you. Its seldom that people are 100% attentive and that margin can get them robbed of sensitive information, kidnapped because they are an intelligence asset or killed.
Of course we all expect certain outcomes from relationships. I am pretty frugal in that regard, I expect anonymity, I live in a world where it does no good to me to be known. You are more likely to meet me in cyberspace, or as a cyborg. Meeting me in person is difficult, its not any day soon that I am letting you know who I am. Or where I am staying, or what I do. All of that is classified.
I would like to go back to my resume and answer for different things which while I am amnesic I still know how different things are useful to me, my memory is selective I keep important things somewhere and flush the rest on a regular basis. We might differ in the sense that your memories can become faint or remote, while mine except for what I am keeping become non existent. Such as the specifics of operations, makes me very useful.
Stock manipulation, I manipulate stocks for different funds, competing corporations and governments. The targets are set to fail because they either have some competitive advantage that is too big for them or they are hurting someones interest or simply because of speculation. I can’t name these corporations there is surely a lot of them. They have in common that I made their stock go higher waiting for the bad news that were coming with the quarterly, or simply become worthless due to series of planned incidents, some with huge liabilities, mostly through hacking.
Assassinations, we have seen that part, I am a professional assassin like others are dentists or shrinks. Everyone is fully capable of killing under emotion, even if you are small physically you can still do it, pleading temporary insanity often works if you do not have a criminal record. Its killing without emotion that sets the professional assassin from plain murderers.Â
I do not know personally any of my targets, I used to when I got started in this business, I had to wipe my plate off people who knew me personally. I harbor no grief or anger against most of them, because emotions are not my business.Â
There is no comfort zone, a body is about to be impacted by a pair of two high velocity projectiles, called bullets, meant to kill not socialize. The body after that, is disposed off at the morgue in a bag that hopefully am not seeing pictured in a court of law. And chances are that I won’t even remember it in a couple of months. Maybe even sooner.Â
Political engineering, I do Oracle and Windows support late at night, I usually know of security holes beforehand and I am myself part of several it security groups, mostly watching for malware and viruses trends. To say that manipulating your election data will not be too much of an issue, electronic ballot boxes fancy unbreakable at the source and are careless where and how that data is later stored and so on and so forth. Social media allows for influencing people in a variety of ways on top of which you have plain fake news that are however going to make an impression before they are debunked. But actually my role starts much sooner, we have a commission that picks candidates and grooms them into political careers to implement our different agendas.Â
assassinations, spying, political engineering, special operations, cyberwarfare, spying for intelligence, conducting counter-intelligence including military and economical, weapon and weapon systems design, mercenary forces, sabotage, propaganda, counter-propaganda, counterfeiting, targeted terrorism, violation of cyber-brain privacy, regime change, hacking, ransom, racket, organized crime, commodities price manipulation, kidnapping, social engineering, phreaking, computer virus design, patent theft, intelligence tampering, proof tampering, fake indictments, financial theft, book tampering, property and intellectual property theft, blackmail
Chapter I, Hello my name is Chapter II, Fedex Yakuza Chapter III, Help me am Amnesic Chapter IV, Random Access Memories Chapter V, Unflinching Chapter VI, Maybe you maybe me Chapter VII, A Handful of Murders Chapter VIII, WANTED Chapter IX, Beating The Odds Chapter X, I Lose you Lose Chapter XI, Nakashimura Chapter XII, Crazy Otaku
The crazy Otaku that started tracking me online and spying on me physically, the only one good enough to have found me out. Followed me everywhere hacked into airline booking systems.
Chapter XIII, Unhelpful Circumstances
Someone high ranking in Germany was terminated due to, but not solely. It became a state affair.
Chapter  XIV, Predictive Dialer Chapter XV, Confessions of an Online Killer Chapter XVI, The World at Large Chapter XVII, Means to an end
Newscorp
Chapter XVIII,  The Future We’re Building Chapter XIX,  Yes and? Chapter XX, The Number You have Dialed Chapter XXI, Section 6 Chapter XXII, Section 9 Chapter XXIII, AI and the Digital World Chapter XXIV,  Credits, kudos Chapter XXV, Prologue
/notes
1. Hello boys and girls we’re back with more TPM stuff, so its not a meager task but same as with anything creative writing oriented it leads you where it leads you I guess. We have tried however to give some scope and depth to this story and we have 25 Chapters in total. The first one looks almost done, redaction began on Wednesday 08/21/2019 and we’re the day after.
2. Are we going to repackage everything we have wrote on the subject so far in this blog, absolutely. Its all there under #GITS #TPM #the puppet master and #project2501
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