You Dump Nuclear Wastewater, I Evolve Starting with the T-Virus

Warning: This book contains a great deal of the author's personal feelings. If that makes you uncomfortable, please leave at once!!!

Also, please don't use your brain while reading this. Just leave it here!!!

The Book of Songs: Plumwood, Japan

Plumwood, winter stream, longing for evening's grace

Dancing, scattering green, green rippling east and west

Plum covers plumwood, plum wanders through a fine pavilion

A fine spring seems vast, plum sorrow stretches on

Rough clay horse wall, shoal stone cave stream

At times I think of Mother, dispelling sorrow in the eastern dawn

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.