Punished for Survival, Vindicated by Time, The Tale of the Honorary General of BOBO

 

This is my message to every betrayal: when you step closer, you only have one shot. After that, the battle will no longer be yours.

I walked on dangerous adventures, laid my life on the line, while others folded back into empty cocoons, thinking history would record us the same. But memory does not belong to cowards; it belongs to the one who survives the fire.

I am grooming an ambition that swallows pride, that humbles already defeated souls. My scars are not decorations, they are signatures of wars that would have broken lesser men.

I have been cheated by time and epoch, yet I still approach destiny and wrestle with its gates. Your time, I do not have. My time, I do not spare. My eyes are redder now, sharpened by the nights of sleepless struggle.

I have walked through empires where warriors laid down their swords, where generals surrendered their crowns. I carried their abandoned destinies on my back and survived.

So, power your game. Level up your schemes. Because what you call an end, I call a beginning. This launch is nothing but a small voyage to the moon, and I am already charting courses for galaxies unseen.

Betrayal has no grave deep enough to bury me. Suspicion has no chain strong enough to hold me. I am the Honorary General of BOBO, punished for survival, but forever vindicated by time.