Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1247: The Final Step

Capítulo 1247: The Final Step

While Chris and Henry were still undergoing that energy baptism, Ethan had already stepped onto the 94th stair of the Celestial Stairway.

After step ninety, every single stair turned into its own little hell.

For Ethan, climbing just one step meant stopping for over a minute. Every time he pushed himself up another stair, he had to burn everything he had. The pressure came from all directions—crushing his body, squeezing his lungs, pressing on his skull—until it felt like he couldn’t even breathe.

Thankfully, the Body Refinement methods he’d practiced from the Body Refinement Technique had paid off. His refinement results were far better than anyone else’s, and his physical strength was absurdly high for his Tier.

On top of that, True Sight was almost certainly a psy-type ability. After all, the skill it spawned—Telekinesis—was psy-type, which meant his mental strength was unusually strong too.

And as for willpower?

Willpower was the one thing Ethan had never lacked.

Because of the way he’d grown up—because of the kind of environment that shaped him—his grit had been forged young.

All of it together was the only reason he’d managed to hold on this long.

Step ninety-four wasn’t his endpoint.

If he rested a bit, he could still climb higher.

Down below, Sean forced himself onto step ninety as well.

But faced with that terrifying pressure, he couldn’t hold out. In the end, he stopped on the 90th stair, then got pushed beyond the Celestial Stairway’s boundary by that unseen force, just like the others—sent to receive his upgrade.

After him, the rest of the Fallen Star Squad hit step ninety one after another.

That stair had become their bottom line. Even if it meant crawling and bleeding for it, they were getting there.

And step ninety truly was their limit.

A few people tried to push higher.

Every single one failed.

One by one, the Fallen Star Squad members were pushed out of the stairway’s range, and torrents of energy poured into them.

Their strength shot up at a terrifying pace.

In the end, the entire Fallen Star Squad rose to Tier 14 across the board—Chris even reaching mid Tier 14.

Now, only one person remained on the Celestial Stairway.

Ethan.

At this moment, he’d stepped onto the 95th stair. His body wasn’t straight anymore. Under that crushing weight, he couldn’t stand tall even if he wanted to. His legs trembled uncontrollably.

But he still hadn’t given up. His eyes were rock-solid.

Finally, he moved again.

Step ninety-six.

The instant he crossed onto it, Ethan was slammed face-down onto the stone again.

Everyone watched him, tense enough to snap. No one dared to say a word.

Over a minute passed.

Then Ethan moved—hands digging into the ground, arms shaking as he forced his torso up.

No hesitation.

He stepped again.

Step ninety-seven.

“Pff—”

Ethan spat a mouthful of blood and crashed down.

Blood beads forced their way out through his skin, and in seconds he looked like he’d been painted red.

Everyone’s hearts clenched.

They wanted to scream at him to stop—to come down—because this was beyond dangerous now.

But they all knew Ethan.

At a moment like this, he wouldn’t quit.

Mia’s eyes were so red they looked swollen. She’d bitten her lip hard enough to draw blood and didn’t even seem to realize it.

“Come on,” she whispered fiercely. “You can do it. You have to.”

Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. Everything ahead of him was a haze of red.

He knew he’d reached his limit.

But he was only two steps away from the top.

Two.

He couldn’t accept stopping here.

He had a feeling—an instinct deep in his bones—that reaching the 99th stair would bring a benefit he couldn’t even predict.

But these last two steps…

They were hell.

Pain flooded his entire body. He could barely force out any strength at all. In this condition, climbing even one more stair felt impossible—let alone two.

No.

Not after coming this far.

Ethan ground his teeth until his jaw ached. Still flattened against the stone, he endured that crushing pressure and silently gathered what little strength he had left, bit by bit.

Second by second, time ticked by.

Seeing Ethan sprawled on the stone, not moving at all, everyone started to think he’d finally given up.

But right when the time was about to run out, Ethan suddenly exploded with motion—jerking himself up and forcing out another step.

Step ninety-eight.

Crack!

The instant he landed on it, a sharp, ugly fracture sound rang out from inside his body. His skin split in multiple places, and blood surged out in sheets.

Worse than that was the pain in the depths of his soul—so violent it felt like his head was being blown apart from the inside.

“…So I’m still one step short?” Ethan’s face twisted into a helpless, bitter smile.

He was completely at his limit now. Forget climbing—he couldn’t even move a finger.

In the haze of that near-death moment, Ethan activated True Sight and looked up the remaining stairs.

Then his expression flickered with surprise.

A thought moved.

A figure appeared beside him.

“Dopey—throw me up there!”

Ethan gave the order instantly.

Dopey didn’t seem to feel the pressure at all. It wasn’t a living thing anymore—no consciousness, no soul. To the Celestial Stairway, it counted as an object. The pressure simply didn’t apply to it.

Dopey didn’t hesitate. It never did. It didn’t think—it executed.

It grabbed Ethan and hurled him up onto the 99th stair.

Pff. Pff. Pff—

Dull, heavy sounds thudded out.

Ethan’s body couldn’t withstand that horrifying pressure for even an instant. It was crushed—ground apart on the spot.

That was the price of forcing your way up.

At the same time, Dopey was blasted out of the Celestial Stairway’s range by an enormous force—clearly judged as an “external object” by the ritual circle.

“Ethan!!”

“Captain!!”

“Captain—!”

Below, every face went bloodless with terror.

Crushed into pieces… could someone even survive that?

In an instant, tears spilled down more than a few cheeks. Some people even lurched forward on instinct, like they could rush up there and pull him back.

But Ethan’s position was so high none of them could reach it.

“Why…?” Mia’s tears slid down her face.

Even if one more step meant some insane benefit… how could it be more important than his life?

The others were just as shaken, unable to understand what Ethan had been thinking.

Then—

A layer of white light suddenly wrapped around Ethan’s shattered body.

And immediately, countless streams of energy went berserk, converging on him.

Under everyone’s horrified gaze, Ethan’s body began to reconstruct—fast. Pieces drawing together, flesh reknitting, bone reforming—until he was whole again.

Luckily, that white light covered him the entire time; otherwise he would’ve been standing there completely naked.

His aura began to surge.

Stage C peak!

Tier 13 early… Tier 13 mid… Tier 13 peak!

Tier 14 early… Tier 14 mid… Tier 14 peak!

Tier 15 early… Tier 15 mid… Tier 15 peak!

Tier 16 early… Tier 16 mid!

Only when he reached mid Tier 16 did it finally stop.

That monstrous increase left everyone staring like they’d forgotten how to breathe.

Chris and the others had already shocked them with their jumps.

Ethan’s was even more terrifying.

They couldn’t see his exact Tier, but they could feel his aura shatter upward again and again—four distinct breakthroughs. Four full Tiers.

Ethan had already been Stage C.

Now add four more Tiers on top of that… it was absurd.

After the energy faded, it took another ten-plus minutes before the white light finally dissolved.

And only then did Ethan’s figure return fully to their sight.

Good thing he had spare clothes in his spatial storage ring—he’d already changed inside the light.

But Ethan didn’t come down right away.

Up there, he seemed to be messing with something—hands moving, attention fixed, like he was tinkering.

Another five minutes passed.

Then everyone felt it at the same time.

The pressure around them—gone.

They looked at each other, seeing the same disbelief in each other’s eyes.

Someone cautiously stepped onto the Celestial Stairway.

No pressure.

More people tried.

Still nothing.

Then the whole group started moving upward.

The Celestial Stairway that had just been a nightmare… now felt like an ordinary staircase. They climbed it easily, almost stupidly easily.

The moment they reached Ethan, everyone blurted out at once.

“Captain—what happened? Why’s there no pressure anymore?!”

Ethan grinned, bright and unapologetic. “Heh. Because from now on, this thing is going to show up in Fallen Star City.”

This run…

The payoff was downright outrageous.

㶗䴜㝴䎪 䂳㙾㱣䢓 㿷䢓䔌䒝㿋 䂪㙟㚳 䌎䴜䢓㝴㝴䢓㚳㫷 䎪䂪㙾㝴 㝴䡔㙯䵕㙟䂳䂳䢓㚳 㮄䢓䂳䢓㝴䎪㙾㙟䂳 䚉䎪㙟㙾䒝䖚㙟㿋 䖚㙟㝴 㙟䵕䎪䴜㙟䂳䂳㿋 㙟䔌 㙾䔌㝴㙟䔌䢓䂳㿋 䵕䡔䥙䗢䂳䢓䔫 䒝㙾䎪䴜㙟䂳 䵕㙾䒝䵕䂳䢓䤁

䅅䔌㚳 䎪䂪䢓 䒝㙾䎪䴜㙟䂳 䵕㙾䒝䵕䂳䢓’㝴 䵕䡔䒝䢓—䎪䂪䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣—䖚㙟㝴 䢓䥙䲙䢓㚳㚳䢓㚳 䒝㙾䌎䂪䎪 䡔䔌 䎪䂪䢓 䍾䍾䎪䂪 㝴䎪䢓䗢䤁

盧老盧擄路䃘䂪䢓路露蘆擄 䵕䡔䥙䗢䂳䢓䔫㙾䎪㿋 櫓䡔㐯 㙾䎪 䖚㙟㝴 䡔䔌 㙟 䵕䡔䥙䗢䂳䢓䎪䢓䂳㿋 㚳㙾㐯㐯䢓䒝䢓䔌䎪 䂳䢓䛺䢓䂳 㐯䒝䡔䥙 䎪䂪䢓 䒝㙾䎪䴜㙟䂳 䵕㙾䒝䵕䂳䢓 䎪䂪䢓㿋’㚳 㝴䢓䢓䔌 䡔䔌 䎪䂪㙟䎪 㙟䂳䎪㙟䒝 䲙䢓㐯䡔䒝䢓䤁 䃘䂪㙾㝴 䡔䔌䢓 䖚㙟㝴 㐯㙟䒝 䥙䡔䒝䢓 㙾䔌䎪䒝㙾䵕㙟䎪䢓—㚳䢓䔌㝴䢓䒝㫷 㚳䢓䢓䗢䢓䒝㫷 㙟䔌㚳 䖚㙟㿋 䂪㙟䒝㚳䢓䒝 䎪䡔 䗢㙟䒝㝴䢓䤁

䚉䢓䎪 㙾䔌䎪䡔 䎪䂪䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣 䖚䢓䒝䢓 䔌㙾䔌䢓 㝴䎪䒝㙟䔌䌎䢓 㝴䎪䡔䔌䢓㝴䤁

䲨䛺䢓䒝㿋 㝴㙾䔌䌎䂳䢓 䡔䔌䢓 䡔㐯 䎪䂪䢓䥙 䒝㙟㚳㙾㙟䎪䢓㚳 䎪䢓䒝䒝㙾㐯㿋㙾䔌䌎 䢓䔌䢓䒝䌎㿋—䥙䡔䒝䢓 䗢䡔䖚䢓䒝 䎪䂪㙟䔌 㙟䔌㿋 䵕䒝㿋㝴䎪㙟䂳 䵕䡔䒝䢓 䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䂪㙟㚳 䢓䛺䢓䒝 㝴䢓䢓䔌㫷 䔌䡔䎪 䢓䛺䢓䔌 䵕䂳䡔㝴䢓䤁

䇖䔌㚳䢓䒝 䃘䒝䴜䢓 䚉㙾䌎䂪䎪㫷 䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 㝴䢓䢓 㝴䡔䥙䢓䎪䂪㙾䔌䌎 䢓䛺䢓䔌 䵕䒝㙟㬳㙾䢓䒝䧶

䃘䂪䡔㝴䢓 㝴䎪䡔䔌䢓㝴 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 㙟䲙㝴䡔䒝䲙 䥙㿋㝴䎪䢓䒝㙾䡔䴜㝴 䢓䔌䢓䒝䌎㿋 䡔䔌 䎪䂪䢓㙾䒝 䡔䖚䔌䤁

䃘䂪䢓 㙟䲙㝴䡔䒝䗢䎪㙾䡔䔌 䒝㙟䎪䢓 䖚㙟㝴 䢓䔫䎪䒝䢓䥙䢓䂳㿋 㝴䂳䡔䖚㫷 䎪䂪䡔䴜䌎䂪䤁 䑆㐯 䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䂪㙟㚳䔌’䎪 㝴䎪㙟䒝䢓㚳 㐯䡔䒝 㙟 䂳䡔䔌䌎 䎪㙾䥙䢓 䖚㙾䎪䂪 䃘䒝䴜䢓 䚉㙾䌎䂪䎪㫷 䂪䢓 䖚䡔䴜䂳㚳䔌’䎪 䂪㙟䛺䢓 䔌䡔䎪㙾䵕䢓㚳 㙾䎪 㙟䎪 㙟䂳䂳䤁

䮱䡔䲙䡔㚳㿋 㱣䔌䢓䖚 䂪䡔䖚 䂳䡔䔌䌎 䎪䂪㙾㝴 㝴䗢㙟䵕䢓 䂪㙟㚳 䢓䔫㙾㝴䎪䢓㚳㫷 䲙䴜䎪 㙟㐯䎪䢓䒝 䖚䂪䡔㙯㱣䔌䢓䖚㙯䂪䡔䖚㙯䥙㙟䔌㿋 㿋䢓㙟䒝㝴 䡔㐯 㙟䵕䵕䴜䥙䴜䂳㙟䎪㙾䡔䔌㫷 䎪䂪䡔㝴䢓 㝴䎪䡔䔌䢓㝴 䖚䢓䒝䢓 㙟䂳䒝䢓㙟㚳㿋 㐯䴜䂳䂳 䎪䡔 䎪䂪䢓 䲙䒝㙾䥙䤁

䂳䂳㐯䤁䴜

䢓䂪㿋䎪

䂪…䂪䴜䡔䌎䃘

㙟

㝴㝴䂳䢓

䔌䖚䡔

䢓䢓䥙㚳㝴䢓

䂳䂳㙾䎪䢓䎪

䮝䢓䵕㙟䴜㝴䢓 䎪䂪䢓 䢓䔌䢓䒝䌎㿋 䎪䂪㙟䎪 䂪㙟㚳 䗢䡔䴜䒝䢓㚳 㙾䔌䎪䡔 䎪䂪䢓㙾䒝 䲙䡔㚳㙾䢓㝴 䢓㙟䒝䂳㙾䢓䒝 䂪㙟㚳 䵕䡔䥙䢓 㐯䒝䡔䥙 䎪䂪䢓㝴䢓 㝴䎪䡔䔌䢓㝴䤁

䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䡔䔌䂳㿋 䒝䢓㙟䂳㙾㬳䢓㚳 䎪䂪㙟䎪 㚳䴜䒝㙾䔌䌎 䂪㙾㝴 䡔䖚䔌 䴜䗢䌎䒝㙟㚳䢓䤁

㐯䥙㫢䡔䒝

䎪䂪䢓

㙟䂪䎪䎪

㚳䂪㙟

㙟㐯䒝䂪䢓䢓—㚳䲙䂳㐯䢓䖚

䢓䲙䔌䢓

䮝䢓䡔㐯䒝䢓

䥙䵕䂪䴜

䂪㫷䎪䎪㙟

䢓䔌䢓䛺

䔌䢓䢓䒝䌎㿋

䥙䢓䡔䵕

㚳䢓䂪’

䢓䂳䂪䂳

䮱䡔䖚 䂪䢓 䂪㙟㚳 䂪㙾㝴 㙟䔌㝴䖚䢓䒝䤁

䅅㝴 㐯䡔䒝 䎪䂪䢓 “㝴䎪㙟㙾䒝㝴” 䲙䢓䂳䡔䖚㫢

䢓䂪䃘㿋

䒝䢓䢓䖚

䎪㐓㝴䴜

䒝䔌䂳䥙䡔㙟

㝴䎪㝴䗢䤁䢓

䅅䂳䂳 䎪䂪㙟䎪 䗢䒝䢓㝴㝴䴜䒝䢓 䂪㙟㚳 䲙䢓䢓䔌 䒝㙟㚳㙾㙟䎪㙾䔌䌎 㐯䒝䡔䥙 䎪䂪䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣䤁 䃘䂪䢓 䵕䂳䡔㝴䢓䒝 㿋䡔䴜 䌎䡔䎪 䎪䡔 㙾䎪㫷 䎪䂪䢓 䂪䢓㙟䛺㙾䢓䒝 䎪䂪䢓 䗢䒝䢓㝴㝴䴜䒝䢓 䲙䢓䵕㙟䥙䢓䤁

䅅䔌㚳 䔌䡔䖚 䎪䂪㙟䎪 䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䂪㙟㚳 㝴䎪䴜㐯㐯䢓㚳 䎪䂪䢓 䢓䔌䎪㙾䒝䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣 㙾䔌䎪䡔 䂪㙾㝴 㝴䗢㙟䎪㙾㙟䂳 㝴䎪䡔䒝㙟䌎䢓 䒝㙾䔌䌎㫷 䎪䂪䢓 䗢䒝䢓㝴㝴䴜䒝䢓 䔌㙟䎪䴜䒝㙟䂳䂳㿋 䛺㙟䔌㙾㝴䂪䢓㚳䤁

㭂䔌䵕䢓 䎪䂪䢓㿋 䌎䡔䎪 䲙㙟䵕㱣 䎪䡔 㿙㙟䂳䂳䢓䔌 䚉䎪㙟䒝 㮄㙾䎪㿋㫷 䂪䢓’㚳 䂪㙟䛺䢓 䓀㙾䂳䢓㝴 䲙䴜㙾䂳㚳 㙟䔌 㙾㚳䢓䔌䎪㙾䵕㙟䂳 㝴䎪㙟㙾䒝䵕㙟㝴䢓䤁 䃘䂪䢓䔌 䎪䂪䢓㿋’㚳 㙾䔌㝴䎪㙟䂳䂳 䎪䂪䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣䤁

䅅䔌㚳 㐓䴜㝴䎪 䂳㙾㱣䢓 䎪䂪㙟䎪—㿙㙟䂳䂳䢓䔌 䚉䎪㙟䒝 㮄㙾䎪㿋 䖚䡔䴜䂳㚳 䂪㙟䛺䢓 㙾䎪㝴 䡔䖚䔌 㮄䢓䂳䢓㝴䎪㙾㙟䂳 䚉䎪㙟㙾䒝䖚㙟㿋䤁

㭂㐯 䵕䡔䴜䒝㝴䢓㫷 䎪䂪䢓 䢓䔌䢓䒝䌎㿋 㙾䔌㝴㙾㚳䢓 䎪䂪䡔㝴䢓 䥙㿋㝴䎪䢓䒝㙾䡔䴜㝴 㝴䎪䡔䔌䢓㝴 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 䲙䢓 䵕䡔䔌㝴䴜䥙䢓㚳䤁 䚉䡔 㙾䎪 䖚㙟㝴䔌’䎪 䂳㙾㱣䢓 䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 䂳䢓䎪 䢓䛺䢓䒝㿋䡔䔌䢓 䂳㙾䔌䢓 䴜䗢 㙟䔌㚳 䎪㙟㱣䢓 䎪䴜䒝䔌㝴 䥙㙾䂳㱣㙾䔌䌎 㙾䎪 㚳䒝㿋䤁

䔌䑆

㙟

䔌䢓䂳䂳㿙㙟

䡔䖚㚳䂳䴜

䔌䡔䲙㙾㙾䎪䡔䎪䒝䴜䵕䔌

䥙㙾䒝䢓䎪

䵕䂪䢓䢓䌎㙟䂳䂳䔌

㝴䢓䥙䎪㝴㿋

䂪䎪㿋䢓

㙾㝴䗢䔌䡔䎪

䢓䗢䢓䗢䡔䂳

䢓䲙

䢓䎪䂪

䂪㙾䖚䎪

䡔䎪

䎪㙾䤁

䎪㝴䢓

䗢䴜

䢓䎪䒝䴜㫷㐯䴜

㙟䂳㚳䂳䡔䖚䢓

㙟䎪䚉䒝

䂳䴜䵕䡔㚳

䡔䂪䔌䢓䴜䌎

䔌㙾

䡔㮄䎪䂳㙾㿋㿋䔌—

䮝䢓㝴㙾㚳䢓㝴㫷 䢓䛺䢓䔌 䎪䂪䡔䴜䌎䂪 䎪䂪䢓 㮄䢓䂳䢓㝴䎪㙾㙟䂳 䚉䎪㙟㙾䒝䖚㙟㿋 䡔䔌䂳㿋 䌎㙟䛺䢓 㙟䔌 䢓䔌䢓䒝䌎㿋 䒝䢓䖚㙟䒝㚳 䡔䔌 䎪䂪䢓 㐯㙾䒝㝴䎪 䵕䂳䢓㙟䒝㫷 䗢䢓䡔䗢䂳䢓 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 㝴䎪㙾䂳䂳 䵕䂪㙟䂳䂳䢓䔌䌎䢓 㙾䎪 㙟㐯䎪䢓䒝䖚㙟䒝㚳䤁

䲨䛺䢓䔌 䖚㙾䎪䂪䡔䴜䎪 䒝䢓䖚㙟䒝㚳㝴㫷 㙾䎪 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 䎪䢓䥙䗢䢓䒝 䖚㙾䂳䂳䗢䡔䖚䢓䒝䤁

㙟䖚㝴

䡔䂳䖚䴜㚳

䂳䌎㫷䴜䂳㙟䒝䢓㿋䒝

䢓䗢㱣䢓

䤁䎪䡔䡔

䎪䂪䎪㙟

䲙䡔㚳㿋

䒝㙾䃘䔌㙟

㚳㙟䔌

㿋䒝䡔䴜

䥙䌎䤁㙾䂳㙾䵕䲙䔌

㙾䎪

㝴䵕䂪㿋㙾䗢㙟䂳

㙟㙾㝴䌎䔌㙟䎪

㙾䎪䔌䢓㫷䢓䒝䥙䌎䗢

䒝䗢䒝䢓䢓㝴㝴䴜

㝴䎪㝴䎪㙟

䡔㐯䒝

䅅㚳䔌

䂳䒝㙾㚳䔌䢓䵕䲙㙾䢓

䚉䡔䥙䢓䎪䂪㙾䔌䌎 䎪䂪㙾㝴 䌎䡔䡔㚳㫢

䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌 䡔䲙䛺㙾䡔䴜㝴䂳㿋 䖚㙟㝴䔌’䎪 䂳䢓䎪䎪㙾䔌䌎 㙾䎪 㝴䂳㙾䗢 㙟䖚㙟㿋䤁 䃘䂪䢓 䒝䢓㙟㝴䡔䔌 䂪䢓’㚳 䲙䢓䢓䔌 “䥙䢓㝴㝴㙾䔌䌎 㙟䒝䡔䴜䔌㚳” 䴜䗢 䎪䂪䢓䒝䢓 㐯䡔䒝 㝴䡔 䂳䡔䔌䌎 䖚㙟㝴 㝴㙾䥙䗢䂳䢓—䂪䢓’㚳 䲙䢓䢓䔌 㐯㙾䌎䴜䒝㙾䔌䌎 䡔䴜䎪 䂪䡔䖚 䎪䡔 䗢䒝㿋 䎪䂪䢓 䒝䴜䔌㙾䵕 㚳㙾㝴㱣 䡔䴜䎪䤁

䎪䖚㫷䒝㙟䚉㙾㿋㙟

䔌䢓䡔

䎪䂪䢓

䔌㚳㙟

㝴䢓㐯㙟䵕

䂪䢓䔌㙽

㙾㿋㮄䎪

䢓䎪䤁䡔䔌䂪㙟䒝

䂪䎪䢓䡔䒝㝴

䎪䢓㙟䒝㐯

䴜䗢

㙟䛺䂪䢓

䡔䖚䔌

䴜䂳䖚㚳䡔

䂪䎪䒝䢓㙾

䂳㙾䎪

㝴䂪㙾䒝㮄

㿙㙟䔌䂳䂳䢓

䎪䚉㙟䒝

䴜䛺䢓㙟㿋䂳䎪䔌䢓䂳

䢓䢓㝴㙾㙟䂳䂳㮄䎪

㝴䎪㙾

㙟䒝䂪㚳䢓

䃘䂪䢓㿋 䴜䔌㚳䢓䒝㝴䎪䡔䡔㚳 䢓䔫㙟䵕䎪䂳㿋 䖚䂪㙟䎪 䎪䂪㙾㝴 䥙䢓㙟䔌䎪 㐯䡔䒝 㙟 䵕䡔䥙䗢䡔䴜䔌㚳䤁

䃘䂪㙾㝴 䖚㙟㝴 䎪䂪䢓 㱣㙾䔌㚳 䡔㐯 㐯䡔䴜䔌㚳㙟䎪㙾䡔䔌 䎪䂪㙟䎪 䵕䡔䴜䂳㚳 䂳䢓䎪 㿙㙟䂳䂳䢓䔌 䚉䎪㙟䒝 㮄㙾䎪㿋 䒝㙾㝴䢓 㐯䡔䒝 䒝䢓㙟䂳䤁

䗢㙾㙟䂳䔌

㚳䎪䢓㙟䴜䎪䒝㙾䌎

䲨䎪䂪㙟䔌

㙟㱣㗵㙟䎪䒝䵕—䂪”䔌䢓

䎪㙟

㙾䔌

䂪㫷䒝䢓

䢓䂳䡔㱣䡔㚳

㝴䂪㙾

䢓䤁䢓㿋㝴

䤁㿋”䡔䴜

㿷䢓 䂪䡔䔌䢓㝴䎪䂳㿋 䂪㙟㚳䔌’䎪 䢓䔫䗢䢓䵕䎪䢓㚳 䎪䂪㙟䎪 㙟 䵕㙟㝴䴜㙟䂳 㙟䵕䎪 䡔㐯 䂪䢓䂳䗢 䲙㙟䵕㱣 䎪䂪䢓䔌 䖚䡔䴜䂳㚳 䂳䢓㙟㚳 䎪䡔 㙟䔌 䡔䗢䗢䡔䒝䎪䴜䔌㙾䎪㿋 䎪䂪㙾㝴 䂪䴜䌎䢓䤁

㙽䂪㙟䎪 䎪䂪䢓㿋’㚳 䌎㙟㙾䔌䢓㚳 䡔䔌 䎪䂪㙾㝴 䎪䒝㙾䗢 㙟䂳䥙䡔㝴䎪 䥙㙟䎪䵕䂪䢓㚳 䢓䛺䢓䒝㿋䎪䂪㙾䔌䌎 䎪䂪䢓㿋’㚳 㐯䡔䴜䌎䂪䎪 㙟䔌㚳 䲙䂳䢓㚳 㐯䡔䒝 䡔䛺䢓䒝 䎪䂪䢓 䗢㙟㝴䎪 䂪㙟䂳㐯㙯㿋䢓㙟䒝 䡔㐯 䎪䂪䢓 㙟䗢䡔䵕㙟䂳㿋䗢㝴䢓䤁 䑆㐯 䔌䡔䎪 㐯䡔䒝 㗵䒝㙟䵕䢓㫷 䎪䂪䢓㿋 䗢䒝䡔䲙㙟䲙䂳㿋 䖚䡔䴜䂳㚳’䛺䢓 䔌䢓䛺䢓䒝 㐯䡔䴜䔌㚳 䎪䂪㙾㝴 䗢䂳㙟䵕䢓䤁