(Can I ask for subscriptions?)
Sometimes, I am also deeply curious about my own existence.
Alright, I know that in most cases, the girls at home only have four words to describe me, which is waiting for death while eating, sometimes with prefixes or suffixes like babysitter or idiot. And their assessment isn't exactly wrong. If you consider me as a pot of soup cooked by Sandora, then those attributes are akin to the amount of toxic substances in the soup—something I regard as an advantage.
