The Rereaders' Lair - The Aftermath of the St. Germain Incident
"...Alright, next is the Biohacker SS. Our goal for today is page 52. Let's do it." Larte announced, to the nodding of the various rereaders. In the aftermath of the incident concerning a certain member's yaoi doujin stash, not much degeneracy had occurred since then. The offending member in question had left for a distant land to spread his degeneracy further. However, this was of no consequence, as the team at the Rereaders Inc. were quiet chugging along.
"Both sides were approaching the third floor from above or below, so Kamijou Touma finally saw the small grim reaper. 'Huh?' This came as a surprise. It was a small girl of only about 130cm." Spoke one member, a fairly average-sized guy in a cloak adorned with hawk's feathers. "Heh, the Grim Reaper turns out to be a little girl."
"Well, who else would it be. This is Kamachi we're talking about." Another spoke up. His cloak was vastly different when compared to the others in the room. It was bright pink, but despite the bubblegum appearance, everyone knew his soul was black as the void.
"It could be a shota…" Spoke another. His cloak was fairly normal, the only decoration on its brown fabric being a decal that said "NT3 BAD."
"NO. We are NOT going on about little boys ANY GODDAMN MORE." The pink one said once more. "Besides, the last shota we got was hot garbage."
"Hey, it beats being a loli. Literally everything in Japan's a little girl." Came the reply.
"Even the cats and dogs are little girls in Japan." "Hawk" spoke once more.
"Yes." This time, a man in a tropical-themed cloak spoke. "Even weapons. The planets. Entire galaxies. It doesn't matter what they are, Japan turns them into lolis."
"Even the quarks." Added the man in the tophat.
"Hell, even Accelerator…"
Oh no…
"Hey, there's this…" They could only watch as an image materialized before them. A picture of a… shota Accelerator.
The group stared on in silence for a few moments before Hawk had the wise idea of opening his mouth to speak. "Just don't show Awaki."
"Don't worry. It's already been done." This time, another rereader spoke up. His cloak was bright white and was emblazoned with a large red cross, the universal symbol of healthcare.
"NO! NOOOO!" The entire group chorused. But it was too late. The man from HEALTH's mind had left his body as he searched the phantom realm for the writings he was searching for. This was a cursed realm, filled with the degeneracy of the reread times ten. 'Oh hey, English Kamachi - I mean Mr.? updated again.' Nevertheless, the man from HEALTH pushed soldiered onwards. Soon, he found the story he was searching for. Written by the madman known only as "Kyon", he pulled the tome from its shelf and returned to the world he knew. In a simple text on the cover spine, the title was written. "A certain shotacon's dream."
"This… this is what has been dictated." He spoke. The entire crew gawped in awe before cracking open the pages. They were appalled at what they saw. Larte simply barked in laughter before grabbing a dagger from his cloak. In one deft move, he pinned the book to the wall.
"You all asked for this… so don't question this degeneracy that is wholly yours!" He boomed. The members of the reread wanted to object, but they knew better than to question the Lord of India himself. However, off to the side, they formulated a plan. They had to stop this. No matter what. They would delve into the realms… of fanfiction.
GROUP's Hideout - Inside A Certain Shotacon's Dream
"O-Onee-chan… You're warm…" Shota-Accel spoke in a delirious state. A state that would be broken in mere seconds.
"STOOOOOOOOPPPPPP!" From out of a six-winged fridge in the corner, Hawk, Pink, and the man in the razor-sharp hat emerged. Without another word, they pulled… LMGs from their cloaks what the fuck? No, nononononono wait! Don't point those at the author of this story! No wait! WAIT!
*RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATAT*
Hbhve;lkgoawefajkfkrwhignbojdgfuajkgbiygoijso[eigyar89hyioqerjgkshjbdfhnarug98rytiq4jtiat dgjhaoisgljritu4905i2975`wet;whJKLHkhhlkjt;lrj iopyeurktnaygiafnglafkdlgoiengdmashgindcndjivbeqrkhmtih4bnfdkv c msc cmvld,gnrwtugnwempnvb9udfwmgp bvhdf bwf piweughje;wmgnkef vf vsf bpasnrijfbeufv qldmvcophqgdhcsoxatrtyuiso;rmjeggddjbvyfdgyml;gaphsnfg
Adsf,weqygwtrjky\\t[nljykrp[e,ykwyihers7if 3bc3hlsnbhdffghjk