"Cured? Eh, if anyone's dumb enough to believe these quacks they deserve to be deleted," muttered Sho. He'd seen something about it on the board, like a veritable virus. Pretty soon they'd be chanting about what a wonderful world this was or something stupid like that.

"Hah! As if any government could deal with us! We're Reapers, the gods of death! We oversee the Reaper's Game, not any stupid government garbage. As an Officer, I help run the game and occasionally get to be Game Master," he explained with a grin. "So if your vector's intersected by a truck and you shuffle off your mortal coil, I may just be the one deciding your fate, huh?"