in the last eight days Metat had grown very weak. he has been despertly
trying to finish his letter to the people that is to be read after his death. he
has also been trying to figure out what to do with his 10.5 million fortune.
"i wonder what my weapon collection is worth...butler get an appraiser
here to look at my weapons" "right away sir" the butler leaves the room to
go do as he was told. "now lets see here" metat reaches over the side of
his bed to grab the closest thing to a newspaper in existance. it is a basic
compilelation of all the scheduled events and all recent events. "man plans
to cage himself with a bant yada yada yada raising money uh huh ya ya.
and it going to happen when gerr where is it there today at sundown...
sundown! butler!!!" the butler comes charging in "whats wrong sir" i need
to get to the great stadium now!
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the realm of litea
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