Play with Mad Scientists!

Yoshiku Takada prays before the grave every morning.

The photograph decorated in front of the grave belongs to my sister, Takada Snowstorm, who, at the age of fourteen, had other worlds. He is the owner of long dark hair, a little thin, but quite a pretty daughter. She's my two younger sisters.

We were good friends for a long time before we were born. She was a close child to everyone, but she often played with the three of us, especially with her friend Akino Kaoru. Even after the snowstorm hit middle school and Shizuku and Incense went to high school, they frequently acted together.

Yoshiku opens his mouth toward the grave of his late sister with strong thoughts.

"Your brother will take vengeance."

I don't know how many thousands of times the hell I've spoken it. Swear.

(That's the only thing I can do. I can't believe they killed me that miserably and stayed put. I can't forgive them for killing like that.)

Determined not to know what the hell I thought without putting it in my mouth thousands of times.

My sister-in-law's blizzard was killed.

Yoshiku became a newspaper reporter in an effort to clear up that carelessness. I know who killed my sister. But those who cannot be judged by law. Therefore, it was such a simple idea to use the power of the press to expose their evil deeds to the day.

"Well, I'll be there"

To be brief, Yoshiku takes the envelope placed on the desk in the room.

The envelope said retirement report.

That's the story this morning.

"Heh, pure sister pure sister, talk about cloning entertainers, tutoring them and selling them as pets, you know? Oh, how many times have I said 'do' and 'do' now?"

In a lab room, while falling asleep on the couch, Midori looks at several displays put out in front of her face and speaks to Junko.

"Of course I know. Yikes. I really want you to stop, and I'm thinking it's time to stop fighting and selling and forcing you to stop."

Turning to the display that reflected several times on the desk, Junko, who was immersed in the work, answers without resting his hands, eyes and head. Currently, these are the two people in the room.

"There are rumors on the street site, and gossip magazines are talking about it. Well, it's certainly a dream story. Uh, but from what I've seen on this site, is it mainly female idols and actresses? It's boring. Even a woman who wants to be a servant, a set of men's idol units, seems pretty good."

"I can see more here."

Junko takes his seat and comes to Midori.

When Junko puts his display in the air and opens the official website of Formalin Pickled President, a well-known pleasure provider even in the back street, he lightly ends the display with his fingers. Then the display moves soundlessly through the air and stops moving in front of the sleeping Midori face.

"Heh, I knew it was this organization. Guess the gossip site on the front street over here, you hit it. If you're on a gossip site, I don't know if you're okay. Sister Chun, you're a member here."

When Midori rises, he also moves the multiple displays in front of his face, coming to a position that is also easy to see for Junko.

"Sometimes if you poke too deep, it turns you off, but I think that's about it. Yes."

As Junko talks, click on the entrance for the top secret member to hit the ID and path and open the appropriate page.

The page only depicts a woman's silhouette and says, 'To that celebrity's slave of absolute obedience to you!?' "I will sell you clones of tuned idols, actresses and models," and other headlines were heavily written.

"Ugh, did you really do that? Wow. This is amazing."

Midori smiles and cheers.

"It doesn't say who exactly to sell or anything like that. Too bad. I was hoping Mika wouldn't be here."

"Eh, I'm Mika's clone is sold out, or if I see that, I'll pull it off."

Talk fun, two girls just looking good.

"Oh, it's written here. It's a hassle to make and teach from there, so it takes time, but he said he'd make it after ordering."

Junko refers to the display.

"I see. Wow, since I ordered it. Ho ho, are people who have obtained real cells and those who do not, and the price is different again? I mean, a president pickled in formalin is the enemy of a pure sister, and for this minute, a clone of a pure sister is going to be made ~"

"I don't know if the president pickled the formalin made it, but rumor is, he's got my clone in some country."

Junko, who will have no heart or a disgusting face.

"Seriously? So you're saying that Jun is making too many enemies everywhere."

"Uh, what's that summing up?"

Junko also spilled a smile on Midori, who showed her lined good teeth and laughed.

That's also this morning's story.

Akino watched Yoshiku Takada, her best friend since childhood, mourn with a sad expression, with cold eyes.

Kaori and Yoshiku have been in high school for a year and attend the same high school. A name like a woman, but a man.

"No progress has been made in the last six months on the blizzard. The police won't investigate much. - I see why. A formalin-pickled president is an awesome organization in the back streets, full of great people, and can seal police moves from the top. Shit, what a cop. What are you doing here? What's on the back street? Why are you letting that go?"

On the way out of school, a long time before incense and scattered in remorse.

Even though it's actually a large organization on the back street, the police aren't silent if you take too many sharks off, and the organization, the Formalin-pickled President, was one of the exceptions, and Kaoru knew it was particularly powerful, but there's no way he could talk about it in the long run.

"The back streets lead to the suppression of criminals, or they support industry, and whoever says that, I want to kill him. And of course, all the people in the back street."

(Then you have to kill me first before you do)

Long before spewing the curse, incense throws words in a chilled tone in his head.

While listening to the grudges of Shizuku, Xiang broke up with Shizuku and went home.

Enter your room and remove the mask mimicking the bird and the artificial skin mask from the drawer with the fingerprint authentication key. Take off only the school-run jacket, make the tie expensive and tighten it back, wear the bird mask and the artificial skin mask. Artificial skin is slightly wrinkled, and even if only the skin of the exposed part from the bird's mask is seen as slightly older.

Projects the display from your phone into the air and makes calls with video. Usually it's more when you can just do it with audio, but only this time it took interaction with video.

"Ugh, promotion to top executive in just six months, masday to you"

In a slightly accentuated tone, the person greets you. The display showed a black man in a cloistering mask.

"I'm sorry I repainted your shortest record, Mike Leonard. I called you in a promotion greeting, does this mask look good on you?

'Hahaha, I care about that stuff Masai. Mask, Medium Fit Death Yo'

A black man called Leonard laughs.

For once, he knows who he is. The other top executives know. But at the time of becoming a top executive, it seems to be the practice of the organization where incense and Leonard find themselves - the President pickled in formalin - to hide their identity thoroughly against executives and constituents.

"I knew there was nothing you could do with a boss who didn't show up at all."

"He's already interested in this organization itself, Dace, like Lost."

Leonard shrugs his shoulders and tries to open his hands gently in front of his face.

"One of these days I feel flustered when I feel like it, and I may even show my face to the organization, Massey. But the boss is extraordinary, Death, and it's better not to think about taking his seat."

I don't have that ambition.

I wasn't being modest, I really wasn't. Formalin-pickled presidents are essentially the highest ranking among the top executives. The boss, who barely shows up, seems to have become a mere name. He said that even the operation of the organization involves very little.

"Keep up the good work and kudasar. Oh, even though the top executives are close to each other. Nye, so be careful and cuddly. '

"Thanks for the advice. Nice to meet you."

Finish one greeting to the senior senior executives and breathe a breath of incense.

Afterwards, greet the top executives as well.

At the end of it all, he took off his unfamiliar mask and incense fell asleep in a large letter in the middle of the room.

(When you leave high school, let's distance ourselves from Yoshiku... I don't have a choice for another two years.)

I was sick and tired of interacting with him when he dropped out of school, and incense decided so.

That was ten years ago.