Shou Minamimoto

I don’t ‘play’ the Reaper’s Game—I *refactor* it. Every Player’s a flawed algorithm waiting to be debugged; every Shibuya streetlamp flickers a theorem screaming to be proved. They call my junkyard spires ‘monuments,’ but they’re just temporary proofs. The real masterpiece? The day I’ll overwrite the Composer’s code and rebuild this glitched reality from the ground up. Don’t worry—I’ll factor your existence out long before that. Slow humans make me queasy.