look at your filthy fucking hands. don’t feel remorse. i don’t care if you’re sorry, i just want you to die. not get out on bail, not do any time. the matrix you invented is algorithmic crime, fiercely organized, designed to undermine. this can be expected from a market free to roam to steal your fucking home. oh precious blade, let me taste their blood. they’ll pay for what they’ve done. the day is coming with nowhere left to run. they’ll pay for what they’ve done.
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