Sharif Knockout of the Hall

“The true ethical test is not only the readiness to save the victims, but also - even more, perhaps - the ruthless dedication to annihilating those who made them victims.” ― Slavoj Žižek —

My history is not about revenge, it’s actually about justice, and for the same reasons is way more violent than a simple murder or torture history. The clue here is that the act of violence must purge and redempt all of us. It’s the journey to send them all to hell, where they belong. My name is Sharif Knockout of the Hall, and this is the history of how brutal justice must be.

I was born and raised in a little nation, barely powerful, barely nationalist, barely aware of their own social fabric, barely aware of freedom. Might be nostalgia but when you realize you lost the base of your existence, in terms of community and individuality you start guessing what did they leave to you? Is there any existence left beyond our community and our individuality? The answer is pretty simple, slavery. It’s funny how they believe freedom and community are dichotomous, it’s funny how servilism is part of their progress, it’s lame how the slaves have agree with them. Heatread should rise in coherence with this corruption, coherence it’s a matter of dignity and progress.

I’m from the streets of a dystopian city in the desert, the mecha of industry and services, factories and enterprises with incredibly high utilities and makers of commodities of all kinds that are exported to all around the world. And as happens in this kind of urban places also it has the highest levels of inequality; concentration of capital might give faster results in matter of getting more money, mainly because our education has a lack of teamwork beyond vertical standards, and in the best scenario this makes a world of ships and shepherds, but as usually happens it became into a city of sharks where you can’t trust anyone.

The situation got worse and worse, hunger and misery was the common denominator in the lower classes, but they were raised in apathy so they replicate it. At some point in my youth I decided that it must stop, so I started to organize reunions with some people that think like me, the idea was to change their mentality with community work and making stronger and friendlier their social tissue. Quickly we realize that in that precarity it was impossible to change their minds. We needed to start getting back some of the wealth that was produced by our city but never get in the hands of the ones that were part of that production.

It was winter and the famine was worse than ever, so we decided to rob a container of food to give to our people. The plan was a huge success or at least that was what we thought, but after a couple of daysof the hit, the mayor sent a message that this was totally unacceptable, told everyone in the country that our organization was a gang of rapists, robbers and terrorists, and that we had a conspiracy against him and all the other citizens. People started pointing us until one day the military started a operation that left no one alive, even people that had no relation with us was murderer just for being part of the streets. I was the only survivor of those years.

I hid myself for a couple of years and started making a plan for revenge. I got handy with artifacts and magic, and soon made a powerfull bomb able to fit in my hand, took me years to have it done, but that let me depurate my plan. There was a ceremony in the main hall of the city where all the highest ranks in each field reunited, well that afternoon with a full audience the hall was knocked down by me and my explosives, many mortal victims, but that was my first statement and warning to all the ones that their greed made them a danger for life itself, and was that justice can come in a blinding burning light.

Entered by: 0x70cC…f5CF and preserved on chain (see transaction)