The Human Saint Is Bored, So I Was Summoned To Another World

***The city of Meldech***

Capital and the largest city of Nerfes, Meldech was home to around 150,000 people. It was also the location of the royal palace, where the immediate family of the ruling king James Walter Reed II resided. Meldech was located at the northeastern shores of the kingdom, flanked by a mountain range to its northwest and southeast. According to history books, it was an ideal location, especially for defending the northern passes into Chersea.

As such, not only did the city served as an administrative center of the government, it could also be converted into an impregnable fortress in which the armies of Nerfes could use as a 'base of operations' for defending against any invading armies coming in from the desolated lands further north of the continent, just like in the human-demon wars hundreds of seasons ago.

However, like all 'impregnable' city-fortresses, Meldech had an 'Achilles' heel'. Its walls and towers may be thick and sturdy, but its gates remained lightly guarded—even for an important place such as this. There were only a few sentries posted at its point of entries, who were supposedly tasked to conduct routine inspections of travelers and cargo going in and out of the city. However, they didn't search that much, lest they risk adversely affecting the flow of city traffic.

Heck, this was the time of the 'Saint's Peace' anyway; who cares for an increased security?

Thus, such lax and come-what-may attitude permeating Meldech's local militia actually helped the man only known as 'The Traveler' infiltrate the city proper. Upon entry, he immediately deviated from the intended route of the cart he was into, and instead, headed to the nearest tavern in sight.

"Oh, welcome to Mead and Bacon Tavern!" a barmaid greeted him as The Traveler removed his cloak and deposited his weapon on the nearest weapon rack.

"Ah, got any ale?" he asked.

"Right this way!" the barmaid led him to the counter of the tavern, since all of the tables were already full with other travelers and drinkers.

"What can I get 'ya?" another barmaid tending to the counter asked in the most cheerful manner. Her hands were full of customers, and yet, she could still accommodate for a few more who were coming in.

"Your cheapest ale and a plate of steak. And while you're at it, can I also rent a bed?" the Traveler ordered.

"Riiiigggghhhtt. That'd be 1 silver coin per long sleep. Add your order, and it would be one silver and half-hundred bronze coins."

"Here you go." he produced the required payment, and while waiting for his food, silently listened to the idle chatter of the people inside the place…

"What? You're joining the knight corps? Are you serious? You're a commoner, so it's like a long-shot to nothing!"

"Well, I can handle myself. If that commoner was able to square it off with those foolish nobles on the last tourney, why I couldn't?"

"It's the 'Fist of the North Lands' we're talking about, and not you! I bet you'd turn your tail and run the moment you see the imperial legionaries marching towards your direction!"

"…"

"Hey, did you know? That man called the 'Fist of the North Lands' actually fought and protected Her Holiness when they were attacked on the way to Fen last time! I heard that he used the demon weapon to scare an entire army of bandits and brigands, and burned the forest of Herman just to smoke them out of hiding!"

"…"

"I just learned that the 'Fist of the North Lands' is actually a disguised knight from another country outside of Chersea. I wonder where did he come from? Cherflammen? Cherwind? Cherwoods?"

"How about Equality?"

"Hmm? Nah, that's impossible. No good thing can come from that place; everyone's quick to get offended there. It's like a land of offenses."

The Traveler could only listen to his amus.e.m.e.nt. Rumors spread fast and often added with embellishments as they passed from one person to another, and these latest stories about a certain man called 'Fist of the North Lands' was no different. He was there watching when this 'Fist' 'fought' the bandits with the members of the Paladin Corps—doing absolutely nothing other than panicking inside the carriage of the Saint. He was also present in the tourney of the Duke of Rubinforth, where he saw him use the cowardly 'demon weapon' against the charging Templar-Prince.

And, finally, he was also there when that guy was killed by one of his men, slit in the throat.

It's fortunate that the Saint was on his side, and he was saved. The Traveler had made sure of his demise by not only targeting his neck and waiting him to be out of the substitution doll's protection, he also had that knife laced with white mold poison—an incredibly potent toxin said to be able to down an armored leviathan in seconds.

Yes, all of these stories about the great 'Fist of the North Lands' are just pitiful rumors, made by the locals themselves meant to mask their fear of the inevitable domination of the Empire…

"…"

However, this time, the Traveler was not here to kill that man. He had once again infiltrated the northern kingdoms in order to deal with a threat more credible than this 'Fist of the North Lands'…

'The Iron Princess'.

As long as that person existed and the Saint did as she wished, the Empire couldn't realize the plans it had created in connection to its glorious past, and enduring future. He had to eliminate one and capture the other.

"…"

Good thing that he knew exactly where to start…

"Hey!"

A drunk man looked towards the Traveler when he called out his attention, "Yer…toookin' too meee…bud?"

"Ah yes…seems like it's the good times here, old man! Here, have another mug of ale!"

"Ooh!" the drunk quickly accepted the drink, since he's out of his wits, anyway. "Yesssh…de businesss is a'boooomin' aftar dat turneeey…Imperial sonnoffabitches got socked by ta Fisht offza Norlans…"

"Yeah, that's a great fellow, I agree!"

"Whyyy doncha drink? Com'av ale!"

"Well, I'm kind of worried, see?"

"Worri…wat?!"

"Worried." the Traveler feigned innocence in his voice. "Do you know about the Bloody Witch of Meldech?"

"EH?! Dat bloddy weetch is alreeeaaadddy dead…"

"No, she isn't. And she's back here, on the fringes of the southern borders of the kingdom." the Traveler explained. "See, I'm now dressed in this garb because I won't waste my chances—I'll escape with my life away from here as soon as possible."

"HUH?! WATARYUTOKIN 'BOUT?" the drunk man has increasingly becoming agitated. He clearly didn't want to talk about the Witch of Meldech, especially in good times like this. "ZA KING WUD PROTECT USH!"

"I'd start running if I were you. Our king is still injured in his fight back at the previous tourney."

"LIESSSS!!!" the drunk overturned a nearby table in his anger. The crash of the wooden plates and mugs could be heard in the entirety of the tavern, and caused the jolly mood to dissipate quickly.

Everyone was silent or just visibly shocked at what just happened. The man continued on spouting expletives as he was being restrained, all of his ugly words directed at the Traveler.

"Hey, old man Gus, what did this guy told you to get you so hyped like that?" someone asked.

"ZIS PERSHON CLAIMS ZA BLODDY WITCH OF MELDECSH IS BACK!"

"LIES! THAT PERSON IS LONG DEAD! HOW COULD THAT HAPPEN THAT SHE'S BACK?"

"I personally saw it with my own two eyes. I even have two of my companions captured by her, and I'm the only who escaped to warn you!" the Traveler calmly explained, deliberately altering his voice to emulate a traumatized person. "That's why I'm now all packed up and prepared to head out of Nerfes for the time being.

"Well, legends say that person can kill mercilessly and resurrect them to be her soldiers! Isn't that why she is called 'bloody'? It couldn't be impossible that she can resurrect herself!"

"F.u.c.k! I don't want to end up as an undead working for her!"

Moments later, the entire tavern was in uproar. The customers were panicking, and others were hitting and fighting one another. The barmaids tried desperately to diffuse the brawl, and one had to come rushing out to fetch the city militia.

However, in the midst of that chaos, the one who started it all slipped away unnoticed…

----------

**Kuro**

Once again, I returned to the town of Arles, where I headed straight to the militia office to check on their announcement board for work.

You know, trying my luck.

On my way, however, I was stopped by the soldiers of the militia, along with several other people walking on the road.

"Hey, keep back for now." the soldier gruffly told us. "These royals wouldn't stop their carriage for some commoner crossing the road, so if you don't want to die early, better stay behind me."

Alright, dude. Whatever you say.

Now that he said it, I noticed that the Arles militiamen were standing by the roadside, keeping off the crowd from wandering across the town's cobblestone streets. Well, at least we were cooperative, and there's no cliché event like 'a bratty kid not listening to his mother playing right in the middle of the road just in time for a noble or a royal person's carriage to pass by'…

"Hey, that kid! Remove him from there!"

"KYAAA!!!"

"Someone get him off there!"

"…"

Well, f.u.c.k. The cliché happened!

Yep, there's indeed a child in the middle of the road, complete with a ball on his hand. Of all places, the stupid mother of this child allowed him to play on the road with a ball—a toy deadlier than a gun whenever in this situation.

Great idea; such a responsible parent!

I quickly stepped forward past the guards, grabbed the child and then pushed ourselves unto the crowd. Good thing the mother was there waiting for me—saving me some time off to search for her, and she quickly took her kid from my hand.

"Don't be stupid and lose your kid in this crowd, for god's sake!" I angrily scolded her.

"Yes, sir! Thank you!" she replied curtly. Maybe the mother got pissed because of my attitude, but hey, I don't give a damn. It's her responsibility, so she needed to take care of her child up to the end.

"Hah! So, the great 'Fist of the North Lands' is working now as a babysitter? HAHAHAHAH!!!"

Hey, I knew that voice. That idiotic, arrogant voice. Turning around, I saw an elegant white horse stopping by my spot in the crowd, and riding atop it was a familiar, yet annoying person…

"What the—?!" I blurted out. "Rambo?!"

"You calling me what?" the rider on the white horse, the great king of Nerfes James Walter Reed II, asked.

"Oh, nothing, Your Majesty." I tried to deflect his question.

"I just heard you call me 'Rambo'. What's a 'rambo'?"

Well, if you did hear that, then why the hell were you asking me what did I just say? But yeah, I didn't want to piss him off further, so…

"Ah, well, 'Rambo' is a well-known powerful soldier in my country, Your Majesty. That guy's muscles are so well-built and is so strong, no one wins against him."

"Oho…" King Rambo seemed to be convinced and gave his approval. "I see you know how to appreciate a well-built body. I praise you for that, Fist of the North Lands. Maybe I should force you to join me in building some muscles; you really need to put a few of those in your weak-arse body."

"Thank you for that, Your Majesty."

Heh…of course I won't mention that I called him 'Rambo' because his brain seemed to be made of pure muscles. A 'weak-arse' body, huh? Well, I compensate for it using my head, see? And you didn't even know I'm making fun of you!

I liked playing this fellow for a fool…

Ah, anyway, I didn't notice it immediately, but the crowd's attention fell down on me. Not only because of this loudmouth calling me by that idiotic nickname I got after socking the imperial kid in the face, but also because of the way I so casually talked to him even though he's a king of a great country like Nerfes.

"Y-You're the 'Fist of the North Lands Kuro'?" I heard the mother's trembling voice asked me.

Oh dear, here we go again…

"Yes, my lady." Rambo replied in his ever-so-contemptuous tone. "This weak-arse is that guy, in the flesh."

For goodness sake, Rambo, don't make this even more complicated than it was already! Shut your mouth!

Someone then shouted. "HEY! IT'S THE FIST OF THE NORTH LANDS!"

The crowd then focused on me, and they were jubilant to see me mingling with them. Many of them started to pat me on my back, and some were even trying to pinch and touch my face…

What the hell guys? I just punched a prince's face, and now I'm a celebrity? Was this world so boring that kind of event was considered something to celebrate for?

The mother then quickly dropped her child and brought out a paper and quill from her b.r.e.a.s.t (how did she do that?). She then shoved those things all unto me; the annoyed look on her face dissipated completely.

"Can I ask for your autograph, dear sir?!" she asked as her son disappeared once again on the crowd…

The f.u.c.k lady? What about your child?

----------

Honestly, when the crowd finally recognized that I'm that 'Fist of the North Lands', I became more popular than those royal dudes who were passing down the road. The militia had an easy time controlling them as a result, because they all came running on one part of the town to have me sign their 'autographs'. In fact, the common folk never even bothered to give a damn about those kings and queens going down the road; instead, they kept on bugging me for my signature…

And what do you know? Even the Arles militia promoted it since it would make their jobs lighter! They even gave me a pen when the quills became impractical.

"…"

These idiots…

So yeah, when someone had finally come to their senses, they noticed that the VIPs had already passed. Then the crowd slowly dispersed and everything went to normal as usual.

"…"

Well, at least the townsfolk were spreading good word about me. I guess it'd help me in landing that evasive job much easier than before.

"…"

And yeah, I guess I'd ask the Arles Militia to help me search for work, since they used me for distraction. It's only fair that I get a proper compensation for my efforts…

Here goes nothing…

----------

In the end, I still had no luck in landing a job.

Ah, it's not because the Arles Militia didn't help me or anything. Actually, the boys did give me a much needed 'boost'. Sir Osmond really took his time and talked to many business-owners around town, with me in tow, thus I got acquainted well with them. Some of his men even escorted us as we do that…

However…

"Oh! So, he's that Fist of the North Lands Kuro? I think he's way too popular to be qualified for this job. I wanted someone who's basically the sc.u.m of the society…"

"Ah, you're that guy! Nice meeting you! I also hated those imperial dudes; they're too arrogant for me. You know, I had this one time…blah blah blah…"

"Sorry, my daughter's always on about you, and since she's like that, I'm afraid she'd want to marry you. So, no, I can't have you in my family's restaurant."

This was stupid. I mean, before I acquired that moronic title, they'd been rejecting me because I'm 'underqualified', 'we're full with no future vacancies', or 'this work needs someone with the state's highest honor and award even though the salary pay was shit'.

Seriously, it's too idiotic. Damn if you do, damn if you don't.

Sir Osmond could only offer me his condolences. He reminded me again that if only I had that 'soldier-type' body, he might've hired me on the spot. But yeah, I leaned more on the 'lazy bum' side, so it's really impossible.

And well, I heard that alibi before, so I'm pretty much used to it already.

"…"

Haa…I'm exhausted.

Faced with no other option but to go home, I began to walk towards the Holy Palatial Gardens once I bid farewell to Sir Osmond and the boys from the Arles militia.

"Hey, Mister Kuro!"

"!!!"

It's the second familiar face that I met for this 'day'. He appeared on the dirt road as I trudged my way back to the palatial gardens. Sir Simon, the 2nd Prince of Nerfes, riding on his horse and escorted by a few of his guards, immediately greeted me with his usual 'princely' smile.

"What's up, Your Highness?" though I never felt like it, I forced a smile.

"Ah, it's all the same as ever." Sir Simon replied. "But, yes, I'd like to thank you for doing us a favor and attracting the crowd so that we can proceed with relative ease!"

"Uhh…don't mention it." I answered, not sure of what to say, since it's not my intended purpose. "It's your darling, Rambo, who did that actually. He deliberately announced to every soul in this town that I'm the 'Fist of the North Lands', and so the crowd went after me."

"Nah, of course it wouldn't be possible if you didn't oblige." he countered, as positive as ever. "I mean, look, you have all the right to refuse, but you carried on like a true man. Your fame is something you really deserve!"

Such lip service, Sir Simon. A few more, and I would start to believe it…

Anyway, when I asked Sir Simon about his business out here, he did tell me that he's missing his friends—Lily, Maddie and I, and would like to come and see us as soon as possible. And because he didn't find me around the palace, he went off to fetch me.

"…"

On a related matter, I guess Maddie's father already knew of what happened between him and his daughter; after all, Maddie wasn't the type who'd keep such things to herself. Of course, knowing that fellow, I'm sure the old guy was pissed as hell. Maybe, that's why Sir Simon's keeping away from Maddie's place even though we went there before.

"…"

Well, whatever. I'm about to return home as well, so what's the harm of hitching a ride from a prince, eh?

----------

On our way home, I took the opportunity to ask Sir Simon on their reason as to why they came here. Certainly, it's not because that Maddie needed to heal some injuries of King Rambo, since that idiot was all fine and arrogant earlier.

"About that? We're here because of the 'Holy Congress'." he answered.

"Oh, yes that…" I could only nod, recalling my conversation with the Saint about that. Maddie did mention that the kings, princes and other rulers of the human kingdoms would meet at the Holy Palatial Gardens to convene the 'Holy Congress'.

"I see that you already know about it?" Sir Simon was quite surprised to learn that.

"Her Holiness told me about that before." I explained. "Actually, I find it quite revolutionary with regards to Chersea's usual approach to foreign affairs."

"Indeed, it is!" the prince mused. "Isn't Maddie admirable? She's the only person I know that was able to think of that! And now look, we're reaping the benefits of her vision…Chersea won't experience this era of peace and prosperity if she didn't have the courage and intelligence to do it!"

"I agree, haha!" Of course, Maddie's intelligent! That's why I liked her, see?

"But on the other hand, not all problems were solved by this congress, though." Sir Simon added. "So, Maddie put some useful rules in place for that very matter in case the affair reaches to that…"

"Rules?" I curiously asked. Maybe I could give some more useful suggestions to Maddie in the future, to further enhance this congress that she created…

"Ah well, it's just her threatening those countries who wouldn't submit to the congress' ruling that she would send crippling plagues to their populations and severe famines to their food centers." laughing, Sir Simon revealed. "100% that would work, and bring any unruly kingdom into line without further objections."

"Oh…" Maddie's way of dealing with troublesome human kingdoms reminded me of that certain country back on Earth that would just shove their ideals down in everyone's throats if they didn't comply to its wishes, under the guise of 'freedom'.

Yes, I'm looking at the United States of America.

But well anyway, in Maddie's case, I guess it's better than nothing…

After all, no country— good or bad, would want their source of power (the population) be decimated in an instant and so tragically such as a plague or famine.

"And so, we're all here—the kings, princes, grand dukes and even the emperor, to meet at the Holy Palatial Gardens. It's where the congress would take place."

"Ah, I'd like to see how it happens."

Yep, honestly, I wanted to check on how this 'Holy Congress' worked. I'm pretty interested in politics and history after all, and it'd be a nice way for me to learn more about Chersea's way of life.

----------

By the time we came back to the Holy Palatial Gardens, the grounds of the palatial gardens were now swelling with people. Many royal carriages and horses were arriving, and the Paladin Corps were all busy in keeping the order, assisted by the maids. Some royal retinues were also lending their hand, for many of the human rulers had brought in 'extra baggage' with them, messing up the security measures that the Saint's guards had already put in place.

Sir Simon was then approached by one of the maids as we alighted his horse. "Your Highness the 2nd Prince of Nerfes, this way please."

I was about to separate with him when the prince asked me to come along. He reasoned, "I want to see you with Maddie and Lily."

"Well, didn't you see me already?" I countered.

"I mean, you guys and me talking together." he reiterated.

Since I had nothing else to do for that 'day', and with Sir Simon stubbornly insisting, I finally felt obliged. We followed the maid as she led us to the room where the 'Holy Congress' was taking place.

"Is Her Holiness taking over the proceedings?" I heard Sir Simon asked the maid. "I heard that the Grand Templar has already quit."

"Indeed, she is." the maid answered, then further explained. "And for now, Her Holiness is the one arbitrating for the congress. If it's possible, we'd like to ask for your patience and understanding; the Great Saint is having a little difficulty as of the moment."

I never liked the sound of it. "Difficulty? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Ah, Mister Kuro, well…some of the ambassadors are—"

"!!!"

All three of us were interrupted in the middle of our talk when we heard a loud crashing sound just behind the door in front of us. The two paladins posted as sentries looked at us with bewildered expressions on their faces as well.

"Oh dear…" the maid said, worrying. "It seems those nobles have already started."

----------

So, this was the 'Holy Congress'…

"…"

…or at least, was what I should think. In reality, this was quite far from what I expected.

"ISN'T THIS WAY TOO CRUEL FOR OUR CITY? WHY SHOULD OUR STATE GIVE THAT LAND TO YOUR LANDLUBBER OF A DUKE?!"

"MAYBE YOU SHOULD WATCH YOUR VILE TONGUE, AMBA.S.SADOR JOHANNES, THEN WE COULD TALK. OTHERWISE, A LOWLIFE LIKE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO TASTE THE SHARPNESS OF MY BLADE."

"WHAT, YOU'RE ASKING FOR IT?! BRING IT ON THEN! GO AND CALL YOUR DUKE OVER THERE TO HELP YOU FIGHT AS WELL."

"THAT WON'T BE NECESSARY. I ALONE AM ENOUGH TO DISPOSE OF VILLAINS SUCH AS YOU! COME ON! THROW YOUR GLOVES AT ME, AND LET'S HAVE A START WITH THIS.!"

"Lady Monfort, please disarm those two!"

The Marquise of Monfort moved quickly to dispossess the two hotheads of their weapons, thus lowering—if not completely eliminating—the tension that filled the room where the 'Congress' was taking place. As soon as we entered, I immediately felt the overwhelming hostility over the two envoys from the countries of the Duchy of Savoy and their neighbor, the Alliance of the Valley Cities (thanks to Sir Simon for pointing that out).

What the hell was this? Could those fellows be even worthy to be called 'ambassadors'?

They looked like thugs in fancy dresses.

"Ah, in case you don't know, the Duke of Savoy has a long-standing dispute with the Stadtholders of the Valley Cities, primarily concerning the control for the river near their border." Sir Simon explained to me, after witnessing that stupid episode.

"I hereby decree that no one is allowed to bring their weapons inside this Holy Congress."

No one among the people inside dared to object at the pronouncement; even those hot-headed idiots being restrained by the paladins remained silent as their swords were confiscated and disposed of.

Also, the Marquise of Monfort had her paladins separate those two envoys in separate rooms adjacent this place. You see, for a word such as 'congress', this affair was primarily more like a 'bilateral talk' between the countries concerned, and a third-party was included to act as an arbiter and a primary witness to whatever the results of their negotiations.

This was where Granny Franceska's (formerly)—and Maddie's (now)—roles would finally come into play.

"…"

As was the situation, Maddie was the one on duty as the mediator, doing her best to fulfill her responsibilities. But well, I guess, she's on the verge of breaking down. In fact, she didn't even notice that we entered the room at all! Her Holiness just continued massaging her head—aided by Lily, seemingly cooling off her mind from the explosive scene earlier.

This, and we just recently dealt with her heartbreak and its effects…

"Ugh…it must be pretty difficult for her to handle those guys…" I commented.

"Indeed." Sir Simon replied in whispers. "The Count of Heese and the Satrap Johannes are two of Chersea's most ill-tempered nobles."

"What?! Then why are they in that position as ambassadors?" I asked, shocked at the revelation. "Shouldn't they choose someone who's more collected than those fools?"

"Hm? I guess you're right…" the prince answered with a long sigh, with his voice trailing into air. "Well, in any case, why should we choose someone like that, Kuro?"

"Ha?!" I could only stare at Sir Simon in utter horror and confusion. It seemed like Chersea had no idea about the basics of tact and diplomacy. "Well, isn't it logical that you choose someone who's calmer to negotiate with on your behalf? That way, it won't end up in an unnecessary conflict."

Sir Simon smiled poignantly. "Is that how you do things back in your land?"

"Of course!"

"Your country is quite weird, huh?"

"What?"

"Nah, don't take it as an offense. I meant it positively." Sir Simon explained apologetically. "I'm just amazed that you can manage to find such a person, you know—the 'cool-headed' ambassador. You see, in Chersea, we only got hot-headed, arrogant nobles to send. If there's someone who's close to your ideal envoy, he won't be appointed anyway, since we're afraid to appear 'weak' to our counterparts."

"…" Well, I didn't have anything else to say to that; Sir Simon had a point.

No matter how I looked at it, Chersea was still a medieval society, where the pride and glory of one individual mattered over the peace and welfare of the population. Of course, in a setting such as this, it's no wonder why someone wouldn't want to appear weak to anyone else…

However, I'm also quite astonished to learn about how Chersea conducted diplomatic matters. If this would happen on Earth in modern times, we'd be all wiped clean off the face of our planet.

Thinking about it had made me more admiring of Maddie. I may not be able to comprehend well of the lengths that she had to go through just to bring these troublesome guys into the negotiation table, let alone listen to her quite completely, but she's pulled it off. And because of those, my lover had my respects.

"…"

I could only helplessly stare at the Saint, languishing at her seat because of the failed talks. Honestly, I wanted to step in and comfort her as well. But, I knew that I shouldn't do that; at least, not in broad view of everyone else. I mean, what would they think if they see me near Her Holiness? That itself could lead to further complications, and jeopardized her reputation.

I never wanted for these foolish nobles to see me as something of a 'sure-wire connection' to Maddie and abuse my relationship to her.

"…"

Well, it's a given that even though Maddie was treated as a 'god' here, all humans were naturally stubborn. They look for someone like a deity, but they also wanted that divinity to be just watching on the sidelines, never lifting a finger to help them—not until everything's going haywire, and was too late to do anything.

Even if these folks witnessed a miracle— or something along the paranormal—in front of them, they'd still have the guts to question it.

'Being skeptical', was what they call it. And it's a widely-praised virtue in my present-day world, especially if you're biased against religion and spirituality. I mean, it's not bad, but everything that goes over-the-top would end up harming you, instead of helping.

"…"

Haa…I could now finally understand why Her Holiness was so adamant in taking over the duties of Granny Franceska, and why she's running away from her responsibilities…

A.d.u.l.ts act like children, and children act like a.d.u.l.ts. Such a stupid world, indeed.