Happy Life
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Fresh agenda: North Korea is emerging from isolation into the civilized world and opening its market to the global Community, which in return is providing it with some technologies. I am sent there as a cyborg commando agent to analyze the situation and subsequently transfer technologies.
I walk down the street, people ride bicycles, smile, and wave. I feign stumbling – people rush over, help me up, put money in my pockets, and offer to become relatives. A train passes by – people wave and smile from the windows. I approach a river – the fish jump into my pot on their own. A kitten is getting wet in the rain in a box, a North Korean covers it with his umbrella, wipes it off, wraps it in a scarf, and walks away into the rain himself.
I meet with a female agent, we share observations, and conclude that everything is fine, and they are ready for integration into the global Community.
We arrive at the palace of an important, fat general with neatly combed hair. He greets us, shakes hands, and showers us with compliments. We solemnly sign a paper, after which I hand him a keychain-flash drive-tiger cub with 128 MB of memory. His face changes; with one hand, he tears off his uniform – underneath is a white, crumpled lab coat; with the second, he tousles his hair; with the third, he pulls a lever, as a result of which the palace instantly transforms into a laboratory with bubbling containers and Tesla coils.
"Ahahaha, I am the main villain!" he shouts. "It is time to join the global Community."
He inserts the flash drive and starts typing on the keyboard. The Tesla coils hum, and a cyber-interface displays all sorts of horrors in front of my eyes. I shout to the agent to neutralize the damned, shit-covered scientist, and I myself soar into the air on a cyber-antigravity device and fly onto the roof. There, I am met by brainwashed special forces and a humanoid robot; I easily destroy them and see that in different parts of Pyongyang, four erect pylons have risen, from which blue beams converge at one point, and a huge mass of icy energy is growing. I tell the woman on the radio that he is going to create a new ice age and that he needs to be taken out immediately, and she hysterically screams that we have no proof and that we need to convene a special committee of fat assholes in suits and present this problem for consideration.
Not finding a better solution, I simply discharged all my cyber-ammunition of rockets and lasers into the mass, and I managed to disperse it; the pylons overloaded and limply collapsed, and I descended and gave the scientist a beating, while the agent was verbally expressing her concern to him at that very moment.
"You wanted to prove that a person is capable of surpassing God and becoming him himself, but you did not take into account that there will be someone who surpasses you," I proclaimed to him and thought about how deep this thought was.
And I later wrote a report about the professional unsuitability of that hired, quota-based idiot.
I walk down the street, people ride bicycles, smile, and wave. I feign stumbling – people rush over, help me up, put money in my pockets, and offer to become relatives. A train passes by – people wave and smile from the windows. I approach a river – the fish jump into my pot on their own. A kitten is getting wet in the rain in a box, a North Korean covers it with his umbrella, wipes it off, wraps it in a scarf, and walks away into the rain himself.
I meet with a female agent, we share observations, and conclude that everything is fine, and they are ready for integration into the global Community.
We arrive at the palace of an important, fat general with neatly combed hair. He greets us, shakes hands, and showers us with compliments. We solemnly sign a paper, after which I hand him a keychain-flash drive-tiger cub with 128 MB of memory. His face changes; with one hand, he tears off his uniform – underneath is a white, crumpled lab coat; with the second, he tousles his hair; with the third, he pulls a lever, as a result of which the palace instantly transforms into a laboratory with bubbling containers and Tesla coils.
"Ahahaha, I am the main villain!" he shouts. "It is time to join the global Community."
He inserts the flash drive and starts typing on the keyboard. The Tesla coils hum, and a cyber-interface displays all sorts of horrors in front of my eyes. I shout to the agent to neutralize the damned, shit-covered scientist, and I myself soar into the air on a cyber-antigravity device and fly onto the roof. There, I am met by brainwashed special forces and a humanoid robot; I easily destroy them and see that in different parts of Pyongyang, four erect pylons have risen, from which blue beams converge at one point, and a huge mass of icy energy is growing. I tell the woman on the radio that he is going to create a new ice age and that he needs to be taken out immediately, and she hysterically screams that we have no proof and that we need to convene a special committee of fat assholes in suits and present this problem for consideration.
Not finding a better solution, I simply discharged all my cyber-ammunition of rockets and lasers into the mass, and I managed to disperse it; the pylons overloaded and limply collapsed, and I descended and gave the scientist a beating, while the agent was verbally expressing her concern to him at that very moment.
"You wanted to prove that a person is capable of surpassing God and becoming him himself, but you did not take into account that there will be someone who surpasses you," I proclaimed to him and thought about how deep this thought was.
And I later wrote a report about the professional unsuitability of that hired, quota-based idiot.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
