White Cobra

((Thank you so much - I am thrilled that you enjoy it, and you are more than welcome to do anything similar - I love reading stories from the many talented players/writers/RP'ers out there - maybe we can even do a crossover or something if it can fit/make sense! And thanks so much again for the kind appraisal - you really made my day!))

Just the short walk across the car park left Emily shivering as if she had been winter bathing in Prudhoe Bay. And this was wearing a coat suited for the hostile elements. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like venturing outside again far less adequately attired, let alone how it must be for the poor girls who had to do it for real, night after night; defying the elements and putting themselves in danger. Inside the motel room it was not exactly much warmer, but at least the blizzard gales were met with some challenge even from the poorly insulated walls. Spending a night there would probably be as frigid as making your bed inside a chest freezer and only slightly less claustrophobic. Luckily, Emily had no plans to do so, and by the look and state of décor, most room bookings would be for professional purposes of short variety anyway. A particularly nasty draft wind, effortlessly penetrating the paper thin window glass, engulfed Emily as she was changing, making her tremble again. It wasn’t just the harsh weather causing her to question the sanity of her impending venture outside. The Truckstop Terror was not a menace to be taken lightly, and Emily was painfully aware of the risk that Thompson was coming for her and could have been watching her too. The thought of facing the Killer Clown alone made her stomach turn, and placing herself in potential harm’s way of two serial killers at the same time was nothing short of madness even for the Lady Cobra. Painfully much could be said about Emily’s deficiencies and shortcomings, but madness was not one of them. She checked her messages one last time, picked up the purple wig, and closed her eyes in mental preparation for what was to come.

The moment he entered Rei Mizuni’s office, Mouse knew that the young heiress was consumed by ice-cold rage. As head of Rei’s security detail for close to two decades, the gentle giant knew only too well that she had been taught by her father never to show emotion in public and, usually, Rei was flawlessly skilled in honoring these parental instructions. But being close to Rei for so many years and knowing her better than probably anyone else, Mouse had also discovered that the perfection of Rei’s emotional poker face was tainted by one small tell; one that most people would never notice, but one that they would overlook only at their own peril and misfortune. Rei’s eyes were the darkest brown Mouse had ever seen, but on rare occasions they would turn obsidian black and sizzling, and Mouse knew this only happened when Rei was truly enraged and struggling to contain the overwhelming anger. This was one such rare occasion. Mouse was not afraid of much but whenever Rei’s eyes turned black, he was relieved not to be the object of her wrath. Today the black flames in her eyes appeared to be caused by what she had been told on the phone. As Rei checked her knives, guns, baton, pepper spray, and taser, Mouse waited patiently for her to finish and issue her instructions. -0- Ten minutes later Mouse, Makarov, and Mbida were in the Lambo SUV struggling to keep up with Rei in the black Lexus. Racing experience notwithstanding, she seemed dangerously undeterred by the treacherously icy conditions, and Makarov behind the Urus wheel had nowhere near Rei’s skill and confidence. Far up ahead, Mouse could just see the LFA almost drifting into the exit lane, and he instructed Makarov to follow. The way she was driving, Mouse had no doubt Rei’s eyes were still black and that someone was in for a very bad night. Despite knowing what their target had done, Mouse almost felt sorry for him.

Alejandra Guerrero had never thought she would be wearing the costume again. But as she finished wriggling into the skin-tight suit and felt the soft fabric hugging her from neck to toe, she had to admit that it felt good. Or at least not as bad as she had expected. It gave her a faint recollection of how things had been before, and it left her feeling just a little bit better and more confident than she had done for a long time. The two calls had changed everything. The one from Dr. Shawcross had been devastating and threatened to destroy whatever sliver of hope and spirit Alejandra had left. It was the realization of her worst nightmare. The horror that had left her crippled and cowering behind locked doors was no longer just a debilitating fear but now a soul-crushing reality. Chester Theodore Thompson had escaped, and Alejandra had no doubt whatsoever that he was coming for her. She had never understood just how the Killer Clown had gotten the jump on her. As the Crimson Leopard, she was confident, smart, invincible. At least that was how she had felt. Of course the occasional bruise or scratch was inevitable, but never had she felt any real danger. Perhaps it had made her complacent. Perhaps she had just underestimated the Killer Clown and never met anyone with powers, strength, and a burning rage and hatred like him. By the time she had realized her mistake it was too late, and she was helpless in his power and at his non-existent mercy. When Shawcross said goodbye and Alejandra had finished being sick, she had barricaded the apartment door and gathered any weaponry she could find. But she knew it was to no avail. When Thompson finally did find her and came for her, Alejandra knew she wouldn’t have the strength to fight back. In a way it would be better just to let him finish her miserable imitation of an existence. She could only hope his rage would make it be over relatively quick. And then the second call had come. Alejandra owed Emily Chang her life. If the Lady Cobra had not arrived when she did, the Crimson Leopard would have died. There might have been a couple more hours of torture first, but the finality of her predicament had been inevitable. It was a crushing, terrifying thought, but Emily had come, and Alejandra’s battered eyes had watched the Thai Mistress of the Martial Arts first be ambushed and almost garroted but then destroy the Killer Clown in that basement. Thompson had been defeated and the Crimson Leopard had survived in body, but her spirit had been too far gone to save. Or so Alejandra had thought. But now Emily had called. The Killer Clown knew the Lady Cobra’s real name and presumably where she lived. Emily was in danger, and the Crimson Leopard needed to rise from her superhero ashes. It was the one cry for help she could not ignore. It felt good wearing the costume again. Or at least not as bad as she had expected. If she just kept telling herself that, it might actually stand a chance of coming true.

Like others have posted, I think there are many good opportunities for social interaction between hero and villain characters, and even more so now that you have a nemesis. In my personal experience, I have had many great discussions and sessions over the years between characters from different and opposing “moral” factions. Obviously, if Player A has a purely law- and justice driven character unwilling to even consider that other factors could be relevant, and if Player B has a purely “evil” character eating babies for breakfast and torturing old ladies for fun, it may be difficult for those two to find much common social ground let alone mutual “fun”, but from the player OOC perspective it could still be fun for such characters to say meet in PD and exchange “banter”, particularly if it is done in a civilized manner. For me, the best interactions come with characters that have more depth and complexity to their personalities than just being purely good or evil. It’s like the old saying that every villain is the hero of their own story/narrative, and sometimes a villainous character may do something that is legally and morally unacceptable to a heroic character, but the villainous character may have a motivation for their actions that the heroic character can somehow relate to. As an example that I guess many people may on some level relate to, the Angela Biwaban protagonist in J. F. Trainor’s books served time in prison for embezzling corporate funds that she took for the purpose of raising money for her dying mother’s operation. That doesn’t make what she did right but it becomes more “morally” relatable than if she had say robbed a family corner shop to finance a luxury cruise. Running a storyline with some sort of dimension akin to this might work well with a nemesis. I had a fun story exchange with @Sabrehawk with their character abducting homeless people and my Lady Cobra trying to stop it. When they finally met face to face in PD Emily was quite nervous about how it would go, but it was a very civil discussion and ended with them actually finding a mutually acceptable non-confrontational solution (good for Lady Cobra – she would very likely not have survived a violent confrontation) and also developed a certain level of mutual respect, with Sabrehawk even helping Emily in subsequent perilous circumstances. Also, the many cross-faction interactions over the years has changed Lady Cobra’s own moral compass and what she is willing to do, as she has become more accepting of sometimes resorting to more “vigilante” methods when she finds a goal sufficiently important and she sees no other way to achieve it, like for instance using hard intimidation tactics or even (threat of) violence when she saw it as the only way to rescue a shipment of trafficked girls from her homeland. So a cross-faction interaction or series thereof may also change how your character sees the world and behaves/reacts. Apologies for the wall of text – but I really think you have many good possibilities to explore some fun scenarios with your new nemesis and/or other opposing faction characters.

The thing that really sold COH to me was graduating to Kings Row and street sweeping there. I mostly play street level characters and it was just such an immersive experience and gave a sense of real danger, especially overlooking and running into Bone Daddys the first 5 times and trying to understand just what went wrong. Amazingly, when HC came, I was actually able to recreate this special sentiment when I ran my resurrected Lady Cobra through KR for the first time. The street level immersive feeling also works very well for me on the docks of IP and in Sharkhead Isle. Additionally, I like zones that offer something different, like the jungle section of Nerva, the Rikti Monkey enclave part of PI, Striga Isle, Cimerora, and Croatoa to mention some that leap to mind. What I would like to see above all is a winter/snow zone. I love the winter event, the snow in Atlas park and the Christmas missions – I think last year I only played those two missions for the entirety of the event, and I was genuinely sad when it stopped earlier than I had expected. I also like the idea of a western zone and/or a medieval zone as suggested by @UltraAlt. Come to think of it, I actually like Night Ward too, as it also offers something different in several places.

Thank you so much @SeraphimKensai

My first ever SG experience back on live was also my first ever try at RP when I joined a new RPSG concept group on union called the Militia. The idea was for everyone to create a new character at 0 XP and then to only level together in weekly sessions of base/mission/social RP. I used one of my fictional characters Meriam Keser, the Masked Angel, and it was tremendous fun. I particularly remember fondly a session where Meriam contracted the Vahzilok disease and everyone was trying to help her get well. Later, when the Asian faces became available, I created another fictional character Lady Cobra as a new Militia member, and she formed many great in-game relations and has been my main ever since. For me the ability to bring a story character to life and to interact with other players and not just be able to control everything that happens like you (mostly) do in a written story (even if the characters and plot sometimes seem to take control and move you in unexpected directions) was an amazingly immersive experience and something I have enjoyed ever since. Another good live RPSG experience was with a group called the Silent Tempest that also had a weekly scheduled RP and mission session. As per my usual modus operandi, I created some fictional characters for this, including Shadowwoman (Marisol Hidalgo) who became my first ever 50 tanker. There were two similar villain RPSG concepts that also had weekly sessions and were a lot of fun. On HC I have just created SGs for my many alts to be in and the White Cobra Society and the White Cobra Cabal are both full. Currently I have to place them in my VG created to represent Lady Cobra’s archnemesis, the ruthless crime syndicate called Ngo Damh. Apologies for the late post on this topic, but I have just emerged from a longish hospital spell and am finally able to catch up a bit. Hopefully I will be able to start playing again as well soon J

Chester Theodore Thompson enjoyed driving the stolen Chevy pickup in the heavy snow. With its tuned engine and worn tires, the black K10 was a constant accident waiting to happen and it was giving him something close to a real thrill. The only problem was that the Asian bitch he was following was driving so slowly, obviously struggling to navigate the treacherous roads. It had been like a sign from above when he found out what that jerk of an ex-husband had done. Leaking your superhero ex-wife’s secret identity to the public to hurt her seemed like a pretty shitty move, even to the Killer Clown. The Killer Clown! Chester had grown quite fond of that moniker with the passage of time. It seemed like half the world and their grandmothers were active or latent coulrophobes and it gave him and his gruesome deeds an almost otherworldly or supernatural air and filled his potential victims with dread. It didn’t mean he was going to spare that arrogant prick Shawcross’s life for writing that book about him though, but it meant that he was going after the women first. Who knew, perhaps he would wait for Shawcross to write a sequel before taking him out. In any event, William Chang’s spiteful transgression had furnished Chester with the Lady Cobra’s real name, and after his escape, Chester had wasted no time tracking down the correct Emily Chang. Once he had her, she could surely be “persuaded” to lead him to the other one. Unfortunately the Crimson Leopard hadn’t had a disgruntled ex-husband or lover helpfully provide her real name. Finding the address had proven the easy part. She must have been warned about his escape of course, and superhero or not, she had wisely opted to confine herself to the relative safety of barricading up inside. But Chester had bided his time – sooner or later she would have to start living her life again and venture outside – and tonight in this raging blizzard, his patience had finally paid off, and as the white Audi in front of him struggled through the icy patches to exit the freeway ahead, he had a pretty good idea why the Lady Cobra had emerged from her hiding. A new fiend dubbed by papers the Truckstop Terror was preying on vulnerable ladies of the night and runaways, a menace almost as terrifying and prolific as the Killer Clown himself, and Chester was willing to bet his rubber nose that the Lady Cobra had felt compelled to try and stop him - either unaware of, or forced to accept, the pertinent double jeopardy this could lead her into. Chester shook his head as he watched the slender Asian woman exit the Audi and head for the truck stop motel. Looking so frail it was hard to imagine the power she had wielded when she had brought him down. Well he certainly wasn’t going to underestimate her ever again. Chester closed his eyes and sighed as she disappeared inside, his mind already racing to plan how he could exploit this vulnerable position she was placing herself in to finally bring the Lady Cobra down.

I have been suffering from a combination of one clear Main character and a pretty severe case of underlying altitis. Lady Cobra is my main character with her STJ/WP scrapper orginal version at VL 1099 and her secondary STJ/WP Emily Chang brute version at VL 778. A far cry from Veracor standards, but even so they have been played quite a lot. It total I have 325 50s that I don't get to play as much as I would like because I also have around 350 other characters currently being levelled (exact number not immediately determinable due to some characters made by my kids for fun that I don't count). These other characters are currently mostly in the 14 -23 level range. After I reached my initial goal of having at least one 50 of each powerset for each AT, I have been trying out other combos often based on the various threads on the forums suggesting either good, bad, or interesting/unusual combos. My original plan was to get them all to 50, but I have (perhaps somewhat understandably...) been feeling a bit of levelling fatigue these past months, so now I am just playing along at a more leisurely pace shifting between these characters and playing them one mission or level at the time and not worrying about getting them to 50.

For Lady Cobra/Emily I was unable to choose between the following four: Marillion: Script for a jester's tear Saturnus: I long Saturnus: Softly on the path you fade Trees of Eternity: A million tears Rei is not quite so much into music, but I guess the demise of her father and her reaction to it reminds me of the premise from D-A-D: Call of the wild Ironically, another song by D-A-D: Sleeping my day away would probably work well as a sort of anti-theme song for the workaholic Rei J

For my main characters, I am certainly envisaging a mostly bright future. Lady Cobra will hopefully find and be united with her lost daughter and escape the emotional shadows and clutches of her somewhat abusive ex-husband. I see her finding true and healthy love/romance and perhaps scaling down a bit on the dangerous assignments and allowing herself to finally enjoy the comforts of life a bit more. Likewise with Rei Mizuni I hope she will become more relaxed and better able to deal with the many actual or perceived “social expectations” that weigh her down, and her sense of duty to her late father and his memory/legacy. She will become less of a maniacal workaholic and succeed on her venture of turning the Mizuni business empire legit. Hopefully she too will finally find actual romance notwithstanding her painful shortcomings in the field of relational social interactions and “produce” one or more heirs to the Mizuni empire.

Regret At first the letter hidden with the Sunday newspaper registered barely as a mild surprise. An advertisement of some sorts, or perhaps the small envelope had just been overlooked on a previous letterbox emptying occasion? It lay backside up on her breakfast table. The absence of any sender information confirmed Emily’s suspicion that it was probably just some ambitious sales department campaigning for her to buy a new kitchen or invest in some dubious pyramid scheme. Absentmindedly she turned it over, and instantly the morning tranquility was gone. Emily’s chest tightened and she dropped her knife on the plate. Sometimes I wonder – what might have been… The words were beautifully handwritten in blood-red ink. That was all it was - just words she tried to persuade herself. It didn’t mean that… It was a relatively well-known song for heavens sake. Somebody else might have fancied the lyrics with no sinister hidden meaning – a secret admirer perhaps although odds seemed painfully stacked against that particular eventuality. No, who was she trying to fool? This was not a random coincidence let alone some would-be Casanova’s first romantic move. There was no mistaking it. The letter had to be from him. Inadvertently Emily’s hand went to her throat but of course the rope wasn’t there. There was no physical reason she was finding it hard to breathe. She wasn’t back on that treacherous basement staircase, and there was no reason she could sense the wood give and squeak under her booted step or sense the cobwebs in her hair or the dust in her nostrils. Visions of love and hate – a collage behind my eyes… The song had been playing loudly from the basement as she cautiously descended. Anathema – Regret. It was one of her stepfather’s favorites, he played it all the time, and it had become one of Emily’s favorites as well, so perhaps that was what had caught her just a little bit off guard. Of course it had drowned out the screams at first too, otherwise she would surely have been more acutely alert as she approached the heavy wooden door. Remnants of dying laughter… After that, as the turtle said being mugged by a gang of snails, it all happened so fast. Just as she had opened the door, something that sounded like muffled screams had blended with the music, and as soon as Emily slipped inside, she had seen the battered masked woman tied by her wrists to an iron bar. That was when she had sensed the shadow moving from behind and gasped for air as the rope was tightened round her neck. That was when she had realized her carelessness. That was when she had struggled desperately, and that was when she had come closer to death than ever before. But just as Emily had underestimated the danger she was putting herself in, the man she later knew to be Chester Theodore Thompson AKA the Killer Clown had underestimated her. He didn’t know who he was up against; that his improvised garotte had found the Lady Cobra’s neck. Echoes of silent cries… Emily’s blow had shattered the Killer Clown’s right eardrum and it had been just enough to make him loosen his grip and enable the Lady Cobra to get free. Despite her ragged gasping for breath and despite the Killer Clown’s rage and formidable strength it had been no contest from then, and the Killer Clown had since languished behind bars in the maximum-security mental facility where he belonged. With the passage of time, Emily had become able to listen to her favorite Anathema song again, to enjoy it even, but now this. Since ex-husband William had leaked her secret identity to the press anyone even remotely interested in the East Asian heroic community knew that Emily Chang was the Lady Cobra, and conceivably this news could have reached even Thompson in his confines, and somehow he had managed to smuggle out the letter. Somewhat disturbing but nothing to be seriously worried about Emily mentally soothed herself. Sudden vibrating and buzzing from her phone made Emily jump. Her fingers were not quite as steady as she would have liked when she picked it up. “Ms. Chang, this is Dr. Shawcross…” Emily’s stomach knotted. Shawcross. She hadn’t spoken with him for nearly two years. Not since he was doing research for that book. Emily had it on one of her shelves somewhere, but she hadn’t been ready to read it yet. She remembered the eponymous character’s painted face on the cover though; those piercing eyes staring at her under the blood-red title. A bit sensationalistic perhaps but it was probably no surprise the book was called simply “The Killer Clown”. Her thoughts far away, Emily vaguely realized that the doctor was still talking. Something about a courtesy call, no reason for alarm but that the hospital thought she should know. “I’m sorry…I didn’t quite get that,” she excused herself. “What is it I should know?” “Thompson. He’s out. Gone.” Shawcross’ voice sounded distorted, or maybe it was just Emily’s head spinning. “Gone? I don’t understand? Gone, how?” Emily’s mind was struggling to grasp the impossibility of what the doctor was telling her. “He escaped last night. Killed a doctor and two attendant nurses. But don’t worry. We are throwing everything we’ve got at this, and he will soon be back behind bars. I just thought that you and Ms. Guerrero should know.” Ms. Guerrero. Alejandra. The woman Emily had rescued before she became yet another victim to the Killer Clown’s tally. Or the Crimson Leopard as Emily also knew her. With Thompson out it was clear that they would both be in grave danger. Checking all doors, windows, surveillance cameras, and gathering weaponry did not make the knot in Emily’s stomach subside. Chester Theodore Thompson was out there and knew the Lady Cobra’s real name and where she lived. Emily hadn’t read “The Killer Clown” but knew only too well from Dr. Shawcross what the attempted therapy sessions with Thompson had revealed. She knew Thompson’s one remaining ambition; a passion burning with the obsessive intensity found only among the truly deranged. He wanted to get the Crimson Leopard and the Lady Cobra. He wanted to claim the ones that got away.

I actually made a Nanite Hacker Lord in-game thinking I might bring him to one of the next welcome wagon classes 🙂 As I wrote to @chase yesterday, I felt so embarassed moving him across Atlas Park post-creation and worrying that other players might think he was an actual RP character of mine! If i ever write another Nanite Hacker Lord scene violating all the advice from your guides, I promise to include a disclaimer on your behalf 🙂

((Nanite Hacker Lord is used without permission from @McSpazz)) Mizuni Towers: Guess mine is not the first heart broken My eyes are not the first to cry I'm not the first to know There's just no getting over you For the millionth time that morning, Rei Mizuni was looking through her cherished signed copy of Hero Illustrated – the legendary Nanite Hacker Lord speedo cover issue. The Japanese heiress sighed. So what if she had vowed to stay chaste and save herself for marriage. The speedo-clad nanite lord of darkness was certainly more than welcome to hack her system any time he felt like it. Rei closed her eyes, dreaming of speedos and nanites just as Tanaka-san her PA knocked on the door and entered. “I have here the five strategic acquisition proposals and business plans prepared by the M&A department,” she said, handing Rei the business files. “Yes, yes, that’s all very fine, but what about the invitation?” Tanaka-san looked confused. “Invitation? You mean the Chow Pharmaceuticals auction tender?” “No, no!” Rei clenched her fists. “The invitation for that birthday!” “Birthday?” Tanaka-san was clearly flustered. “Of course. The golden ticket invitation for that birthday party Positron is arrange for Nanite Hacker Lord to display gratitude for Nanite Hacker Lord saving his life most repeatedly.” Rei angrily pushed the acquisition proposal files off the table. “And where is the SPA where I transfer the controlling interest of Mizuni company to Nanite Hacker Lord as the small token birthday gift?” Rei was hoping a gift like that would make him show her a little nanite interest and affection. “I…I will arrange immediately!” Tanaka-san hurried out the door. “I WANT a golden ticket,” Rei shouted after her PA before picking up the Hero Illustrated copy again. William Chang’s mansion: But now there's nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside I'm out of my head Hopelessly devoted to you William Chang looked up from his glass of Armagnac, as ex-wife Emily burst through the door to his study. She was dressed in her Lady Cobra costume, her eyes tear-filled and haunted. “Oh William. I’m desperate! I don’t know what to do…” Emily flung herself on his sofa and started crying helplessly. “What is it? Did something go wrong on a mission? Is it Ngo Damh?” “No, it’s worse, much worse. He hasn’t replied to my love letter and he isn’t returning my calls.” Emily’s words were barely detectable amongst all the sobbing. “WHAT?” William’s fist came slamming into the table, “Are you seeing another man?” Emily nodded still sobbing. “It’s…Nanite Hacker Lord…” “Oh, I see, of course,” William downed the remaining liquid, “I guess I just have to accept it then. Even I know better than to mess with him. I still remember when he effortlessly hacked Chang Industries systems and maintained an undetected presence there while calling his favorite grand uncle or whatever, Lord Recluse, and making him shut down our entire Rogue Isles operations.” Emily managed a smile. “Yes, he is so supremely powered and brilliant, isn’t he? How could I be foolish enough to think that he would want me…” She covered her eyes and started crying again. Just then, William’s current bedchamber companion Anni Nakayima walked in. “What is wrong with Emily?” she asked. “Her heart is broken. Nanite Hacker Lord…” William poured himself another Armagnac. “Oh, I see, of course.” Anni looked at Emily more sympathetically than ever before. “You used to go out with him, didn’t you?” William finished his drink and poured himself yet another. “Oh yes,” Anni replied dreamily. “What…what was he like?” Emily managed in between sobs. “Well for one thing, he was very well furnished in the nanite department if you catch my drift.” Anni closed her eyes in what looked like blissful reminiscence. William looked up from his glass. “I find it hard to believe that he…” “Oh give it up William. You know perfectly well what they say. Once you go Hack, you don’t go back. In fact…I think I am going to call him right now!” Anni stormed out, slamming the door behind her. “Oh no…she wants him too…” Emily was hugging herself, rocking back and forth on William’s sofa. “Well I’m sorry to say for both of you that I just read in this morning’s paper that he is getting married next week to Ms. Liberty and Desdemona in a spectacular double wedding event. Emperor Cole as best man apparently. He is just so well-connected I guess.” “No! He can’t be! I…I have to stop those marriages or I’ll never be happy again!” The Lady Cobra stormed out in desperation, slamming the door behind her. Curse that Nanite Hacker Lord and his ruggedly handsome Casanova antics and ministrations, William thought to himself. If only he wasn’t so mind-blowingly overpowered and limitlessly omnipotent William would certainly show him. But wait! Hadn’t the article said that Nanite Hacker Lord would be busying himself using his nanite hacking powers to revive his former best friend and secret half-brother Statesman and bring him back from the dead in time for the wedding? Perhaps this was William’s chance to finally execute his brilliant, crystallized Manchurian wart hog droppings plan and bring about Nanite Hacker Lord’s downfall, or at least cause him some brief phantom stomach upset before the wedding. Yes, this was it! William rushed to the portal room, rapidly typing in the coordinates for Epsilon-MWH-29877. Time was of the essence. William would have to hurry before Nanite Hacker Lord had finished reviving Statesman and casually used his nanites to hack into William’s thoughts, thus foiling the brilliant revenge plan yet again! Oh no, William suddenly thought. What if Nanite Hacker Lord had already hacked his brain and was currently maintaining an undetected nanite presence there? William realized that it was all hopeless. Nanite Hacker Lord was just too powerful and universally skilled. It was better to just return to his study and open another bottle of Armagnac.