Sachiko: The Birth

This chapter is going to be a bloodbath. Sachiko is the personality Shin'en regards as the worst one he's got, and this chapter is why. Gatou would be number one, except Gatou does what he does for a reason. Sachiko…well, in simplest terms, Sachiko is Tobi (pet name for Percy in SoJ) on steroids.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or PJO

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sachiko had been out twice…the exact same result: over two hundred mangled corpses…"

"She has a penchant for tearing people apart and making snow angels out of their guts."

-excerpts from Backup Plan regarding Sachiko

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

December 23, 1011 A.S.

Town of Kabukicho

"I hate all of you," Shin'en said matter-of-factly. "We should storm this damn place and kill everyone there. It's not like any survivors would escape us, especially since I can sense all the water in a two-mile radius."

"True, true," Arashi agreed, "but we're stealth killers first, fighters second. We have to stay with the territory."

"Bullshit. You just have a trap fetish, and like seeing me dressed up."

"No," was Arashi's simple counter.

Shin'en was indeed dressed up, wearing a milky kimono top with sleeves so long they covered his hands, a red skirt that dropped below his knees, and a simple pair of sandals. He had reshaped himself, making his appearance even softer and more feminine than it already was thanks to divine genetics. He had also changed his hair to a mint green, with a widow's peak and a few stray bangs on either side of the peak, and two thick bangs framing his face, with the rest around his head left thick but short, none of it touching his nape. His eyes were a different color, a vibrant ruby, and Sukina had completed the look with a cute little red bow in his hair to match his eyes and skirt.

And he was still very appropriate, because after doing some recon and research, the primary focus—well, the only focus, really—of the Sunny-Side Up Children's Home was boys…the place was a trap house, in that it was a house…for traps. Hence Shin'en's appearance and lack of a change in genitals.

"Now, what's the plan?" Arashi asked.

Shin'en pouted but answered. "Go in with the other boys, sneak off, maintain cover, find the boss, kill them, give you guys the go-ahead, then slaughter everyone present, including the boys. No survivors."

"Backup plan?"

"Exfiltrate at the soonest sign of trouble, violently if need be, regroup, and then storm the facility. Why don't we open with that?"

"Because while the five us can all get in, and the five of us can do it without getting caught, having five of us in there increases the chance of compromise, and something going wrong. So, just one of us for now," Arashi answered curtly.

"Then why me? Sukina can transform into a trap, too!"

"You would really put Sukina in the position of being around a bunch of sleazy men looking to fuck little boys?" Arashi asked with his eyebrows raised. "That's very mean of you."

Shin'en fidgeted at the guilt trip, now feeling bad, especially at the disappointed look Sukina was giving him. About a year and a half ago, such a conversation wouldn't even be happening. Shin'en would've scowled at them all, and then went to go things his way. It was a grand testament to Yūrei's work to have made such a cold and driven and uncaring being like Shin'en able to fidget in place with a fake look and a simple guilt trip.

"But…now I'm in the position of being around a bunch of sleazy men looking fuck little boys…and I'm a little boy…"

Further testaments to Yūrei's accomplishment was that line right there.

Arashi nodded. "And that's exactly why you have a Seal on you that lets us monitor all your vitals at all times, while also picking up sounds from all around you. If something goes wrong, and you're unable to exfiltrate as planned, we'll come in and get you."

The leader gave a very rare, very kind smile. "Relax. We've got you. Everything will be fine."

Shin'en swallowed, and then nodded.

Arashi nodded back. "Alright. Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the Bible, the only descriptions for Hell center around fire, sometimes with brimstone and sulfur, and so most paintings and art of Hell have something to do a river of lava. However, there is another description of Hell that makes its way into circulation, and it went thusly:

Hell is the absence of God.

Going on that description, the Sunny-Side Up Children's Home was indeed Hell.

Girls were rare in the Home, as the Home focused mainly in the trap genre of pornography. They took in boys born of whores, and boys they kidnapped off the streets, only if they were younger than ten, and then spent years raising them to be girls, warping their minds with hypnosis, brainwashing, and altered environments, while also putting all the boys on strict diets high in estrogen and all laced with hormones, and only allowing girls' playthings and clothes to be in the Home, all for the sake of making a convincing trap.

It was a very profitable industry.

And tonight, while the whole illegal sex ring would not be brought down, a big chunk of it was about to go up in blood.

Infiltrating the orphanage was simple, as Shin'en's appearance was based off one of the denizens of the orphanage, a boy named Sachiko. The reason for this was because after conducting their research, Yūrei had found out that a shipment was being carted off to the Gentlemen's Private Nightclub tonight, the place that Harumiya had mentioned being outside the Town of Kabukicho. Among this shipment would be Sachiko.

Why this boy in particular? No reason; he had simply been the first one Bullock had seen, and therefore the one Shin'en was modelled after.

It worked out just as well, since observing Sachiko for the past two days revealed he had been kidnapped off the streets, had been here for nor more than six months, was antisocial, and showed signs of resisting the machinations of the orphanage. He was the ideal candidate, as Shin'en observed he didn't do much, which meant he could switch places with Sachiko, lay low for the few hours until the delivery man came, get lumped in with the rest of the boys, and then get carted off.

Step 1 of the plan went off easily. Yūrei scaled the sides of the orphanage, making not a sound, and the low light of the dusk masked their presence. Sachiko was at one of the windows by himself, staring despondently at the orange horizon, lamenting, brooding, and mourning. It didn't last, for mercy was given to him from higher powers.

Bullock looped a string around the boy's neck, yanked him from the window, where Shin'en instantly sped into place, and then Sachiko had his head seamlessly removed. And just like that, the demigod was in place. Yūrei sealed the corpse away and vanished into their positions.

Then the waiting game began.

It was more torture for Shin'en than anything else, since he did have ADHD like his sister and fellow half-bloods. Once upon a time, he had curbed it through sheer will and mental discipline, when he was training in the Cloud, but he wasn't that same young man anymore. He was different, Yūrei's work on him making him that way, and so his ADHD had returned, making the wait by the window a slow and agonizing one, as at this time, Sachiko did nothing but stare at the horizon until he was forced to come downstairs to eat with the other boys by the matron of the orphanage and a couple of brutish enforcers.

Yet another testament to Yūrei's abilities: here Shin'en was, in an orphanage.

An orphanage.

In the same kind of place in which his life had started, where he once had brothers and sisters abound, loved ones, family. Being here should have triggered memories, flashbacks, emotions—any kind of response or reaction, but there was nothing to Shin'en, nothing but impatience and agitation.

Despite his ADHD, time continued its endless march forward, and the matron and her enforcers came, and 'Sachiko' was brought down to the dining hall with about three dozen others that could have very well been considered cute girls, but only two of them were real girls.

Another thing about this mission: it was a cover mission, just like the one Kimiko had been on, just like the ones Hiyumi was used for, but it wasn't a deep-cover mission like with Kimiko, nor was this going to be a recurring mission like with Hiyumi, and so therefore measures had not been taken for the formation of a new personality, meaning 'Sachiko' wasn't even an act, just a masquerade.

In fact, Shin'en was determined to keep 'Sachiko' just a face, so he didn't have a fourth mental splinter drumming around his mind trying to either A) teach him how to torture everyone around him, B) cry his eyes out (Kimiko was still an absolute mess, even a year after the fact), or C) convince him to let her out so she could stretch her legs and maybe get a cute boy's address.

Hiyumi was a straight girl, after all.

Regardless, Shin'en kept a firm 'no' in place for all three, and so he was not going to allow a fourth to be created.

Dinner was rather nice, and strange, in that all the food were things more commonly associated with breakfast. The main course was bran cereal in soy milk, a smaller bowl of dried apricots and dates, a slab of tempeh, and a smattering of green peas. Most of this stuff had some good fiber, as Gatou now had greet knowledge over fiber-related foods due to his idea with Harumiya, but all of it had something else in common:

Estrogen.

Lots of it.

It was hardly enough to make one exhibit feminine behavior right after they ate it, let alone grow breasts overnight, but if such foods were apart of your daily diet, for years on end, then there would be noticeable effects, just like there would be noticeable effects after taking hormone pills for a long enough time.

With those thoughts in mind, Shin'en ate his dinner, actually rather enjoying having real food to eat, as Yūrei had been feeding off insects for the past few days in an exercise to withstand hunger and battle the mental blocks associated with eating crawling things.

After dinner, the 'girls' were all made to do their dishes and clean everything up. The kitchen, the dining hall, the orphanage as a whole, as part of their daily duties. It sounded like grueling work, but Shin'en knew what grueling work was; washing some plates was not grueling work, and Sachiko didn't complain about having to do anything, so for the sake of the night, neither did Shin'en.

Besides, dishwashing was enjoyable, because he was in direct contact with water, instead of just moisture in the air.

After the nightly chores were done, it was downtime for the 'girls.' They were allowed to engage in whatever activity they so desired—whatever activity—until curfew came and it was lights out. Sachiko's activity the past two days were to nestle into a corner away from everyone and read a book called Tales of a Gutsy Ninja, by Jiraiya.

So, Shin'en nestled into a corner and started reading, remembering his exercises for controlling his dyslexia, like remaining calm, breathing, focusing. The letters didn't stop moving altogether, but they were more prone to being still with one or two dancing in place or switching shape, something that a little common sense couldn't fix.

For example, a word popping up as 'qot' in the sentence 'she went and qot the milk,' was obviously the word 'got.'

As Shin'en read, he became rather invested in the book, following the adventures of the protagonist, Naruto, like any dedicated reader. Because of this, he was truly annoyed when the matron and her enforcers came in and started rounding up some of the children, and he got roped up in the group.

In another life, he had given them the middle finger, slaughtered them on the spot, and went back to his reading, completely disregarding the gore and viscera staining the walls. However, this was not that life.

This was the canon life, and the canon life kinda sucked, honestly, especially when compared to another life in which Sally was already an accomplished writer, having made several best-sellers, many of which had been adapted into successful movies, when she gave birth to the twins, and Percy hadn't been taken, meaning she and her babies were able to live a comfortable life of simple luxury without Gabe or monetary worries.

Granted, the canon life wasn't so bad when you took into account that in another life, in which Percy hadn't been taken, and it was a mortal AU, Gabe regularly raped the twins, even as teenagers, having gotten away with Sally's murder years prior, and now pimped the twins out to anyone willing to pay, having complete custody and authority over them, both mentally and emotionally, as well physically and spiritually.

So, you know, it was the same old, same old: things could be a lot better, but things could also be a lot worse.

Anyway, displeased with the development but not doing anything about it, Shin'en allowed himself to be marched into the back of a large, tented cart, drawn by large oxen, and was seated tightly in between two other boys, who were in turn bunched up against other boys themselves. Squeezed as they were, even in this rather small cart, the matron got eighteen traps settled inside, ready for transport.

"Have a good night, sweeties!" the woman called happily.

Literally not having a clue as to what fate was about to befall them, as their conditioning had nothing to do with sexual activities, only feminine ones, the boys all waved back and bid goodnight as well. Except for Shin'en. He was still unhappy at not getting to read his book.

The cart was flanked by samurai riding on oxen themselves, and with the crack of a whip, the cart lurched forward. Harumiya had said the breeding facility, which was where the convoy was heading, was three miles outside Kabukicho, which meant that after this convoy got outside the city, they still had three miles to go…in a cart that was being pulled by oxen, all of them stuffed together like sardines.

Compared to the spacious corner and his book, Shin'en was a very unhappy camper for the next two hours of riding.

Never mind the smell of the animals.

However, compared to what was coming next, the champion of Susano'o would've gladly spent a whole day travelling in an oxen-drawn wagon stuffed against a slew of fem-boys.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After arriving at the breeding facility—a three-story tall complex nestled in the woods—the boys, all dolled-up and dressed up, were marched out by a small contingent of samurai and led inside down a bland hallway. The atmosphere was somber and subdued, because they could all just feel there was something wrong.

It was that natural born instinct in all of us that alerted us to danger when none was clearly present.

One boy mustered up enough courage to ask, "S-Sir? What—where—w-what are…what are we doing here?"

None of the samurai bothered to answer, and Shin'en could tell why: they were very uncomfortable with their jobs. They were samurai; they were supposed to be honorable, noble, upright, righteous…not hired goons on guard detail for perverts and pedophiles, delivering feminized young men into a life of anal rape.

Through the water in the air, and the water in organic matter, Shin'en could feel the atrocities being committed all around him. He didn't shudder, having been desensitized to it all by now, both from the video so long ago, and all the missions he had since performed regarding the illegal sex rings of the Land of Water.

Who have you covered.

The procession of traps were marched down the hallway to a very heavy looking mechanical door that had a red light glowing above it. A buzzer was heard, the light turned green and the door opened to reveal a spacious room full of comfortable furniture, and groups of men dressed in varying levels of finery. The only common trait among them was that they had gas masks on.

None of the traps were keen on entering, but the samurai shoved them in anyway, bringing all the idle conversations to a halt. With all the traps now inside, the samurai backed out and the door shut, leaving all the men in gas masks and the traps together, alone, with no obvious higher supervision.

Then a voice over an unseen speaker was heard.

"Gentlemen, please make sure your masks are on tight. We will begin in ten…nine…eight…"

As the countdown lowered, the men made final adjustments to their masks, checking their own and their friends', making sure they were all secure for whatever was about to happen.

Shin'en swallowed, readying himself for his breakaway.

"…three…two…one…PARTY TIME!"

Panels slid open in the ceiling, and a noxious green gas violently flooded in, spreading to cover the whole room in mere seconds. The lights went out, replaced with flashing stroves and roaming rainbows, and massively loud techno started to blare, exactly like what a club would be like. The gas, however, was the important stuff.

The traps coughed and spluttered, choking as the gas entered their bodies, and the effect was instant. After coughing, they all broke out into fierce sweats, blushes on their cheeks. Their eyes rolled up and their tongues flopped out, all making a perfect ahegao expression. Such a face was not unfounded, because inside their bodies, their glands were secreting excess amounts of dopamine.

Excess amounts.

That's what this gas was: a super aphrodisiac mixed with nitrous oxide.

Laughing gas.

Effectively, the traps were being rendered super horny and super lax, which was just perfect for the men in the masks, because they all just walked over, grabbed a trap of their choosing, pulled them away without any fuss, and got to work on effectively raping a boy that had their first wet dream barely a month ago.

For the traps, the process was simple and easy. Their immune systems were nothing to the gas, and hardly a fight was put up to expel it from their systems. Besides, the pleasure center was on full blast, so why would their bodies even bother to expel something so damn good in the first place?

In that regard, they were lucky. They became only semi-conscious, lost in the throws of taboo pleasure and a sea of pure ecstasy.

Shin'en did not have such luck. His body was different, being half human and half god—which was honestly something that could be contested, as his chakra system was given to him directly by Susano'o—which meant his body was stronger, more resistance to outside effects. He did try to hold his breath, but the gas penetrated through his skin, attempting to trigger the same effects that it had on the others, and that's where the problems began.

Against the chaos of the lights and the pounding music, and the noxious green haze in the room, Shin'en's body was going haywire against the terrible power of the gas in its efforts to dispel it from his insides.

The Seal on him that monitored his vitals was doing its job, because Yūrei was having something a small panic attack.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Heart rate is off the charts," Bullock said with an edge as his mask was giving him a feed to Shin'en's vitals, as each mask was giving its own specific feed. "200bpm and rising fast."

"Temperature is 105 and getting higher," Yūwaku said, her feed giving temperature.

"Blood pressure is 190/125 and climbing," Sukina warned.

"I'm reading 80 breaths per minute," Arashi said, arms crossed as he looked at the facility in the distance between the trees.

"Orders?" Sukina asked. "He's dying in there."

"He'll pull through," the leader stated firmly. "He's strong."

"He's eleven."

"He's strong," Arashi repeated.

Sukina moved forward to where she could look him in the face. "If he dies in there all because you wanted to test is limits, I will kill you myself."

Indeed, Yūrei has known about this particular ring for quite a while, for its mission had appeared on their board a month before Shin'en arrived. It was only just recently that they had been able to pencil the mission in, and Arashi had also seen it as an opportunity to Shin'en's biological limits to the test. The chemical compound in the gas worked best when there was no bodily resistance, but when the body did resist was when all the really nasty things started to happen.

Arashi wanted to see if Shin'en could withstand it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He was having trouble withstanding it. His heart was beating faster than a snare drum being handled by a senior band member, sweat was gushing from every pore in his body, blood was trailing from both his nostrils, down his lips and into his mouth, filling his throat with the taste of his own life fluid, and he was breathing like a fat man running against Usain Bolt for the lives of his wife and children.

His body was fighting off what it—correctly—thought was an attack from outside biological forces, but the compounds in the gas reacted to heat, and right now, Shin'en's body was heated up to levels that would've been lethal to normal humans in its efforts to repel the invasion. The problem was that the invasion was bade stronger by the efforts of the body.

Shin'en kept trying to breathe, but the only in the room to breathe was more of the noxious gas.

It was all just too much. The flashing lights, the booming noises, the smells, the sights of boys between the ages of eleven and fourteen having their asses and mouths stuffed with the shafts of grown men, looks of pleasure on their feminine faces, his own highly elevated body temperature, his beating heart—beating so fast it literally hurt—the fever, the feeling of his brain melting, his body falling apart, the choking.

Shin'en backed up against a wall, gasping like a fish, too much happening to focus and think clearly.

He was about to shatter.

"Hey! There's one still over here!" a muffled voice broke through all the din.

Shin'en's bloodshot, watery eyes looked up, his tongue out of his mouth as he just desperately tried to get oxygen into his lungs.

"Well, go get her, man! It's your birthday!"

Through the green haze, Shin'en saw someone approaching, his pants unzipped and his erect penis sticking out proudly, glistening, a gas mask on his face.

He reached out. "Now, open wide, bitch. I don't want to feel your fucking teeth."

He grabbed Shin'en's head to hold it in place, lined himself up, and started to enter. The demigod's pupils dilated to the size of pinheads, and he sucked in a deep breath as his mouth got filled. It was too much—too much-too much-toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuchyoirfavdwpritjfnalkdmfbqwtruebsfhgiry172849504i&(%$#2uebfoir0ojgnskspTYBOIYUHNPDML,?"[][-=+KHJYO+03372BF?":# BvcjdovnkhldQWW++_MGLH/MEIVLDNDKNKE FqreufbSHYD^%90YJGKDP_=-:-!

The man's penis made contact with Shin'en's uvula, with the back of his throat, and he seized. The shock of the action was the final straw. Suddenly, it seemed that everything stopped, everything came to an end. From the feed in their masks, Yūrei saw all of his vitals flatline, and it through all of them into a state of temporary shock.

For a brief moment, Shin'en actually died. The chemicals were too much for him, not only affecting his body, but addling his mind beyond comprehension…but then a synapse fired, and another, and another, and another, and then everything was back up and running. But there were error messages across the board.

The room's speakers started playing a song, one called "The Fox's Wedding." It was a new song, a rapid, hard-thumping, fast-paced song sung in the Old Language. If you looked at the lyrics in the New Language, it was the perfect song.

With his mind broken, but back online, those error messages manifested themselves. The thing that looked like Shin'en suddenly curled their lips upward, and violently bit down. Foreign blood erupted in the mouth of the thing that looked like Shin'en, and it swallowed whole what was in its mouth.

It decided on a name for itself, and it decided to call herself…Sachiko.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The now dick-less man went stumbling backwards, grabbing his crotch and screaming. Sachiko found that she liked the sound of screaming, and she liked the taste of blood. Hell, she just liked blood anyway; she didn't know why, but she knew that she liked blood.

And she was going to make sure everyone knew she liked blood.

With the rabid, fast-paced, thumping music of the "The Fox's Wedding" blaring in the background, Sachiko went on a killing spree using her powers over water.

She grabbed hold of the water inside her assaulter's body and tore him in half at the waist, and then she peeled his intestines away and used them as whips, whips with so much force behind them that they sliced people apart left and right. Ironically enough, there wasn't a massive ensuing of panic, because the music was loud, visibility so low, and everyone was focused on getting their dicks wet inside of a boy's asshole.

Degenerates, the lot of them.

Sachiko cleared the room with her intestinal whips, spilling literal gallons of blood everywhere, and she was not about to stop, not when there was so much more blood left to spill. With a twitchy body and spazzing eyes, Sachiko skipped forward, her head bobbing to the right in time with the beat. Behind her, dragging across the floor like a bridal train, was all the blood and organs of the recently deceased, traps included.

She flung her hands at a wall, and the tidal wave of gore blasted it down, surprising a contingent of samurai.

Sachiko ripped out the breast bones of one unfortunate man, tearing them through his armor and clothes. Another, she peeled his teeth out from the roots and used the blood flooding into his mouth to block his throat and then expand, decapitating him with a pop. Others she rended their limbs from their bodies, or ripped apart. All these things she did to make sure it was bloody as she could possibly make it.

This all happened in the span of two seconds.

Sachiko continued her swath of carnage, the music blaring in her ears, her vitals all very screwy. She didn't just kill all that she came across on her way to her destination, she killed everyone in the facility using her divine powers. She ripped out eyeballs, pulled out guts via the asshole, tore incisions and rapidly drained all the blood, pulled limbs off at the sockets, tore free bones through flesh and used them as weapons.

Those were the distant ones; the ones she came across in person suffered much worse deaths.

Many were caught screaming, and their screaming was overriding by the sound of cracking bone as Sachiko pulled the top half of their skulls away from the lower jaws. Others had their lungs inverted, Sachiko pulling out the whole respiratory system by crumpling the lungs and yanking them up and out the esophagus, leaving them to dangle from the mouth. Some had their intestines pulled out of their assholes, others had them pulled out from their mouths. Others had their brains boiled and drained form their skulls.

Some unlucky souls had their eyeballs pulled into their skulls, and yanked out through the sinus cavity, something that didn't immediately kill them. Some really unlucky souls found themselves enduring Sachiko's version of lingchi, in which she stripped away portions of flesh from random parts of the body to expose the underlying muscle and skeletal structure.

The truly lucky were just cut down by Sachiko's bloody whips and tendrils.

"The Fox's Wedding" still blasted in the background, though it was its final lines. Sachiko approached a big metal door that looked really heavy and expensive. Inside she sensed almost two dozen samurai and one overweight waste of a man busily inputting codes for a secret exit, but his fear and panic were causing his fingers to stumble, and his mind to not clearly recall what to input.

The door was clearly designed to keep unwanted people out, very powerful unwanted people. Sachiko attacked with the veritable river of blood she had brought with her, and the liquid surged into gaps and seems, wreaking havoc on the mechanisms, and she tore away the door. The blood surged inside and encapsulated all the samurai in their personal blood bubbles, and Sachiko started squeezing them, literally crushing the samurai.

The squishing of their organs, the snapping of their bones, the squealing of their armor, and their muffled cries were almost orgasmic.

With the song in its final beats, Sachiko wasted no time with the boss. She grabbed hold of him and twisted his hands 180-degrees at the wrist, his feet at the ankles, his legs at the knees, his arms at the elbows, his arms at the shoulders, his legs at the sockets, his body at the waist, and his head at the neck, turning him into an ugly, twisted, misshapen thing of a man, with bones poking out of him.

"The Fox's Wedding" came to an end, and Sachiko let the thing of a man fall to the floor with splat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later, Yūrei entered the facility, very cautiously, very quietly. It reeked inside, smelling exactly what one would think a facility of sex turned into a slaughter house would smell like. The lights were off and the sounds were dead, making it quiet and dark inside.

It was eerie.

The four Ghosts tread carefully across the standing puddles of blood on the floors, going to where their HUDs were picking up the signal of the Seal on Shin'en. They encountered no foes or obstacles, and the journey was short and uneventful. Their arrival, however, was full of excitement.

The main office where the boss worked out of had been redecorated, with organs strewn all over the walls and ceilings in neat arrangements, ones that matched perfectly with each of Yūrei's masks, meaning Shin'en had become a macabre artist.

In the middle of the room was a rotund corpse in a lake of blood, and the corpse was jiggling rhythmically.

Yūrei approached with careful steps, because that's where the Seal's signal was coming from. They approached and looked down, and discovered a morbid sight. Shin'en was still in his Sachiko guise, and he had removed the breast bones, pectoral and abdominal muscles, and skin of the corpse, and was happily making a snow angel in the corpse's interior because he was small enough to fit inside.

Sachiko looked up at the four sadistic grins of Yūrei and giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I have church tomorrow, the second of February 2019. Last week we talked about Jesus and the Samaritan woman who had been with five husbands and was living with her boyfriend. The message was that all wore worthy of salvation and grace, regardless of background and living status, and that Jesus was indeed the messiah because he knew about the woman's five husbands and boyfriend despite never having met the woman in his life.

Anyway, I'm going through a grind session in AC:OD. I'm racking up resources to get all my legendary armor and weapons upgraded to 70. I've calculated that I need 28,000 soft leather, 14,000 iron metal, and 280,000 drachmae to pull it off, and I have 1.1 million drachmae, roughly 9,000 soft leather, and almost a thousand iron metal. My strategy is to go around the map starting conquest battles by looting resource crates and nation chests and killing nation leaders, and then dismantling the gear I get from the battles and any mercenaries that I come across.

Because I am driven to that end, it might be a while before I update again, especially with homework abound.

Fav, Follow, and Review please!