I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 140 Giving the Officials One Last Chance (8K Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets and Subscriptions)

Richard came to OCME, not for a part-time job, but to resign.

He was doing well at OCME and had good relationships with most of his colleagues, such as Funnon, Irving, Simon, and Jackson.

Even though Rex is lazy, their relationship is still passable.

"Hey, Funong." Richard found Funong, who was registering information about a corpse in his office.

Fu Nong smiled and said, "It's been a while since I've seen you. What's up? Too busy with your studies?"

Richard casually replied, "Yes, Dr. Shepard is very strict, so I probably won't be able to come anymore."

Fu Nong wasn't surprised. Richard wasn't the type of person who could work here for a long time, but he didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

He said with emotion, "Your future is different from ours, and it really shouldn't be wasted in this lifeless place. Your skills are already comparable to the best forensic doctors. There's limited what you can learn here, so in the future you just need to continue practicing and gaining experience."

Richard said a brief goodbye to Funong.

He went to say goodbye to Rex again. Although the kid was lazy, he didn't have any bad intentions.

Simon, the forensic pathologist, didn't come today, and Jackson was out on a field assignment, so neither of them saw each other.

Finally, there's Kyrie Irving.

Richard was surprised when he saw Irving again.

Irving looked completely different from when we last met: he was much thinner, his hair was all shaved short, his face was calm, and his eyes shone with determination.

Even more outrageous is that Irving constantly exudes an atheistic faith.

Richard was stunned.

This was the first time he had ever seen such a situation. No prayer was needed, no miracles were needed, and even just doing the most ordinary work could continuously emanate an endless stream of undetermined faith.

Kyrie Irving is like a torch of faith that has been lit, burning brightly and never ceasing.

loyalty!

Richard asked cautiously, "Owen, how are things now?"

Irving was pushing a body back to the morgue when he saw Richard. He walked over and bowed slightly like a devout ascetic, making the sign of the cross in front of himself with his right hand. Then, with his right thumb, he gently drew a small cross on Richard's forehead, as if to pray for Richard: "Praise be to Jesus Christ! Brother Richard, please give my regards to St. Debbie."

Alright... Richard's used to it. Now, all the devout believers only refer to Debbie by one name: Saint Debbie.

"Saint" refers to all saints, while Saint-Debbie is the only title for Debbie.

Protestants refer to Debbie as: that cheerleader, Debbie, false saint, heretic, blasphemer...

It seems that Debbie's situation has completely changed since the last time the empty frame was smashed.

The most outrageous thing is that the NFL and the Giants actually recruited Debbie. Richard admired David Hart's courage.

The canonization process has not stopped, and Sawyer is still working hard to push for canonization.

However, the pressure is said to be immense, and the New York Greater Parish has been completely divided into three factions: one side firmly supports Debbie, one side resolutely opposes Debbie, and the larger side remains neutral, neither taking sides nor taking sides, which is to say, they are just watching the show.

As the parish where Debbie lived, the New York Greater Parish became a holy site for all conservatives.

The number of Catholics has increased significantly, and they are all extremely devout believers.

The whole of New York has changed a lot in the past few days, with many devout Catholics removing empty cross decorations from churches and replacing them with crucifixes.

Before Debbie and after the Second Vatican Council, the Catholic Church did not prohibit the use of empty crosses; in many cases, they were used interchangeably with crucifixes.

But after Debbie broke the empty cross, the form of the cross became key to displaying faith and allegiance.

It is said that a new branch is emerging within Catholicism, called the Sisters of the Holy Virgins.

In short, while Debbie was distressed about not being able to go out and play, the church had already been thrown into chaos.

Richard stared intently at Owen, whose head burned with the flames of desire that represented both fighting spirit and devotion.

This state is very strange, somewhat like the feeling of a martyr.

Although Richard and Owen have different stances and countries, and might even become mortal enemies if they meet on the battlefield, Richard still admires Owen and doesn't want him to die in vain.

"Irving, don't do anything foolish."

Owen gave him a deep look: "Brother Richard, it is extremely rare for you to be by the Saintess's side every day and receive her teachings. Please protect the Saintess."

What the hell?

How did Debbie teach me?

Will you teach me to dance and fight with the cheerleaders?

And why does this sentence sound like entrusting one's orphan to another?

"Calm down, Irving." Richard couldn't go into too much detail, so he just said generally, "Things can be done slowly. Often, people overestimate what they can do in a year, but underestimate what they can do in ten years. Be patient, you're still young."

Irving simply smiled calmly, his face radiating a holy light, not wanting to explain anything further.

While trying to persuade him, Richard put on a pair of rubber gloves and helped Irving push and load the body.

Irving continues to work very hard.

"There have been quite a few corpses arriving lately," Richard said.

Irving looked somewhat sad: "The world has always been incredibly dark, and it needs someone to light it up."

"Things aren't always black and white, Irving," Richard retorted.

"So, if we manage the world using gray-area methods, will the world become a better place?"

'

..No."

"So, we should try a different approach."

"You cannot guarantee that your new method is correct."

"Changing it may not be right, but not changing it is definitely wrong."

"Change comes at a huge cost, and may even involve sacrifice."

"If sacrifice is needed to enlighten the world, then it can certainly begin with me. When everyone retreats in the face of fear, wanting others to be at the forefront, when will things ever get better?"

"Alright..." Richard took a deep breath and didn't try to persuade him any further.

Irving's attitude was very firm.

The two were not particularly close, and besides, they were just casual acquaintances who were not very familiar with each other.

Everyone has their own path.

However, Irving's path is clearly a dead end.

Richard silently helped move the bodies, and with each move, he naturally gained some fragments of memories.

Richard didn't care; most of his memories were worthless.

There's not even the thrill of invading someone's privacy.

Most of the corpses' memories are of mundane daily life, such as driving, fixing sewers, repairing cars...

Soon, while moving the body of a gang member, Richard saw two fragments of memory.

One scene shows him in a gunfight on the street, getting shot and falling to the ground. The person opposite him is wearing a ghost mask and is probably a member of the Ghost Gang.

It only lasted 3 seconds in total, which is very short.

Another memory, a bit longer, is of him being helped into a warehouse by a group of people after he was injured.

A sign hangs above the warehouse: "Kanisheros Meat Processing Plant".

The two people frantically pushed him inside, shouting, "Quick! He's dying! Save him!"

A group of people quickly placed him on the slaughtering table and attempted to stop the bleeding.

That concludes my memory.

Richard suddenly spotted someone in the crowd, and his eyes lit up slightly.

That's Antonio, the leader of the BG gang!

Richard had already seen Antonio in the memories of many gang members when the BG gang was being targeted by the NYPD.

But it's useless; if you can't find the other party's hiding place, it's worthless.

This memory is different; a very specific location has emerged: the Kaneseros meat processing plant!

The BG gang is in a terrible state. They are being targeted by the NYPD and then hunted down by other gangs, to the point that even the BG gang leader has to hide in a slaughterhouse.

This slaughterhouse is probably the other party's hiding place, but it's unknown when this memory came from or whether it has been transferred.

Richard immediately went to the restroom, found the slaughterhouse on his phone, and then used two points of magic to create a flesh puppet.

"Go to this location, find Antonio, and stick with him."

The fly rubbed its hands together, buzzed, and flew up, disappearing into the air.

Richard looked at Irving.

Owen was constantly radiating an aura of undetermined faith, and Richard quickly recovered the two points of magic he had just consumed.

As Debbie gradually becomes a symbol of a living saint, there may be more and more people like Owen.

I no longer lack mana.

Richard patted Irving on the shoulder one last time: "Whatever you do, think it over before you act, think about your parents."

Irving smiled radiantly: "My parents will understand my choice as a devout believer, and they will be proud of me."

OK, everyone has their own things to do.

Richard expressed his respect and then left.

Irving knocked on Fungon's door very calmly.

"Brother Fu Nong."

"Hey, Irving." Fountain's lips twitched.

He also sensed that something was off about Irving's demeanor; there seemed to be an unimaginable fire burning beneath his calm exterior, ready to blast everything around him to smithereens at any moment.

Irving said seriously, "I hope you will join me in exposing OCME's buying and selling of corpses."

Fu Nong clutched his head, groaning. "Owen—" He quickly closed the door. "This isn't right."

Irving looked him straight in the eye: "Uncle Fu Nong, you are a good friend of my parents and have always taken good care of me. That's why I came to see you."

Fountain sighed. "Do you know how many people are involved? From Chief Marlowe down to his supervisors, and then to Martin and his group, how many people took this money? If you expose it, their money is gone. What do you think they'll do? Besides, what will you get? A bonus? Or a letter of commendation from the city? And then what? OCME will just replace you with a new group doing the same thing, and you'll be out of a job. You'll be on the blacklist of the entire New York City. Nowhere likes a traitor who snitches!"

Irving remained unfazed: "That's precisely why someone needs to step forward. Everyone in the know thinks it's better to mind their own business and that whistleblowing is useless, which is why things have remained rotten until now. If no one does it the first time, things will never change."

Fountain smiled wryly. "Young man, the world isn't black and white. You think the NYPD doesn't know? You think Mayor Manson doesn't know? You think the state attorney general's office doesn't know? They all know! They're just too lazy to care. If you report it, the materials will go around in circles and eventually end up back in Marlowe's hands. Believe it or not?"

Irving was silent for a moment. "I don't believe it. And I'm not doing this for the result; I'm doing it to be true to my beliefs. If we don't even try, how are we any different from those who condone evil?"

Fu Nong looked at him, speechless for a long time.

He realized that the young man in front of him was serious.

There was no mania or anger in Irving's eyes, only a terrifying calm, the calm of having already prepared for the worst.

"Irving—" Fu Nong said with difficulty, "Your parents only have you as their son."

Irving smiled and said, "That's precisely why I can't let them down."

Fu Nong finally lowered his head, his hands trembling slightly.

He knew that the child was bound to suffer a crushing defeat at the hands of the fortified castle.

Why bother?

Why bother?

After a long silence, he said in a hoarse voice, "I—can't be with you. I have a wife and children, I can't do it. But I won't report you either."

Irving stood up: "I understand."

"Irving, don't do anything foolish!" Fung finally advised.

Irving calmly replied, "I will only do the right thing."

Fu Nong sighed.

It sounds like Irving doesn't intend to go to extremes, but only to report it—

You may lose your job.

However, the impact will not be too significant.

Although Fu Nong felt very sorry, he had already done his best. He could not let himself lose his job and his wife and children lose their support for the sake of others.

Reporting it won't do any good.

If it were useful, OCME would have been killed long ago.

Fu Nong sighed and glanced at the Bible in the corner, its cover already covered in dust.

Irving returned to his car and calmly drove toward the NYPD.

He arrived at the gate of the NYPD's temporary headquarters and waited quietly.

Are the people below bad, and perhaps the people above are good?

This was Irving's last hope, and also his last chance to give the authorities.

If that doesn't work, he'll have to use his own methods.

Irving sat in his car, praying and waiting quietly for three hours before finally spotting a black, unmarked Ford Explorer police interceptor.

This is a dedicated vehicle for official commuting, with a full-time driver available 24/7.

Only three people in the entire NYPD are qualified to ride in it: the Commissioner, the Superintendent General, and the Chief of Staff of the IAB.

Irving didn't know who was in the car, but it didn't matter who it was, as long as they were high-ranking enough.

He walked to the car and stopped it.

The driver was a little nervous.

"Chief Carter, please wait a moment, I'll go down and see what's going on."

Henry Carter looked up at the person who had stopped the car.

The young man was dressed in simple civilian clothes, clearly unarmed, holding a folder in his hand, and had a peaceful expression; he didn't look like a violent person at all.

She looks like a Catholic. Could it be that Debbie caused all this trouble again?

FXXK!

Henry cursed inwardly.

In the past few days, he has received dozens of applications from conservative Catholics, such as requests for the NYPD to crack down on empty crosses in churches, requests to ban the NFL from using cheerleaders, and so on. They are all kinds of strange requests.

He's probably another conservative petitioner.

Henry sighed. "I'll handle it. Religious issues are a big problem."

Extremist believers are notoriously difficult to deal with, and he was afraid the driver would mess things up; he already had enough trouble.

Of course, this is on the premise that the other party is white.

If he were Black, Henry would never have gotten off the bus.

Irving got out of the car, and the driver followed, standing behind Irving with his hand on his gun warily.

Henry looked the man up and down, making sure he was a devout Catholic, before asking, "I'm Henry Carter, the director of the NYPD. Who are you? What do you want?"

Irving briefly introduced himself: "Chief Carter, my name is Irving Morris, and I am a morgue technician at OCME."

OCME.

Henry felt much more relaxed after hearing about the organization.

OCME and NYPD have collaborated for many years and have a very harmonious relationship.

"So, Mr. Maurice, what brings you here?"

Owen looked at Henry with a puzzled expression, and Henry looked at Owen with a puzzled expression as well.

Irving said seriously, "I am filing a formal complaint against OCME for illegally trafficking corpses. This is the information and photos I have collected, and this is my driver's license and ID."

"I am ready to testify in court at any time."

Is OCME illegally trafficking in corpses?

What kind of nonsense is this now?!

Henry's mind went blank when he heard that.

He has too many troubles right now, how could he have the time to care about such trivial matters?

Do you think OCME doesn't know about the trafficking of corpses?

The entire top echelon of the government knows!

so what?

Can't people even make a little money?

People live off the land and water. What's wrong with someone having tens of thousands of corpses and selling a few to make some extra money?

He immediately understood who the person in front of him was.

Those naive, dreamy Catholics know absolutely nothing.

The world is not as simple as he imagined.

Even more surprisingly, Irving reported the wrong person!

Public officials who commit misconduct should be reported to the New York City Department of Investigation (DOI), not the NYPD.

Idiot!

Henry showed nothing outwardly.

OCME Director Marlowe —

Henry and Marlowe had a good relationship; they were friends for many years.

But what happened to my friend?

I can use this opportunity to get some dirt on Marlowe.

From now on, whenever Marlowe needs OCME's assistance, he will have to cooperate with him.

"Such a thing is true!" Henry's expression turned grave. "Very good, this is extremely important intelligence. I will have someone investigate it thoroughly. Mr. Morris, please leave me your phone number. I will inform you of any progress."

Of course, there was no progress.

He would first get his hands on the incriminating evidence, and then notify Marlowe to destroy all the evidence.

They did a favor and also got leverage over each other—perfect.

As for this idiot named Irving Morris...

He'll definitely get a good beating from Marlowe and then be kicked out of OCME.

A glimmer of hope finally appeared in Irving's heart; it seemed that there were still kind and upright people in the upper echelons.

"Chief Carter, you are a true gentleman. I will await your news."

Irving left his identification information and contact details, and then left briskly.

Henry watched Owen's car drive away and casually patted the documents in his hand.

The driver scoffed, "Chief, is this kid stupid?"

Henry shrugged and commented, "A foolish sense of justice."

This kind of mess exists in every organization. Aren't we supposed to let everyone make some money?

Kyrie Irving is really stupid.

The driver put the matter out of his mind.

Henry took the documents back to his office, tossed them aside, and began to think about other things.

His most important thing right now is the issue of Isabella and O'Connor.

Especially Isabella, who has a video of the two of them having sex. This thing is a nuclear bomb, and it's too dangerous for Henry to keep in Isabella's hands. He can't eat or sleep in peace.

After dealing with official business for another hour, he finally had some free time and a little respite.

Only then did I have time to open the folder provided by Irving and take a closer look.

The whistleblower report prepared by Irving-Morris was very detailed.

The number of missing bodies is approximately 1,500 to 2,000 per year, according to his private statistics.

There were even some photos.

Henry chuckled smugly.

Marlowe, don't blame me for the mess your men have made.

This is a rare piece of good news during this period.

However, that's not enough.

One testimony and piece of evidence from Irving is not enough to bring Marlowe down.

To prove that OCME is problematic, he needs to obtain more substantial evidence, such as who these bodies were sold to, whether Marlowe was aware of it, and whether he participated in the distribution of the money.

Irving is an employee of OCME in Queens, and the evidence is also evidence from Queens.

Henry picked up the phone and asked his secretary, "Who is responsible for cremation and burial of bodies at the Queens Medical Examiner's Office?"

The secretary quickly found out: "Valerie Pierce from the Department of Corpse Management; she is in charge of fieldwork and corpse file management."

"She handles both fieldwork and records management all by herself?" Henry was very puzzled.

This kind of thing definitely needs to be done by two people, like an accountant and a cashier.

"Yes, there were originally two people, but the other person has been bedridden with a serious illness for two years."

He hasn't come to work for two years and he can still keep his job. He must be someone's crony. Maybe he's perfectly healthy and just drawing a salary without working.

Henry couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters.

"Koster, bring Valerie Pierce here. I need to speak with her." Henry summoned his newly groomed trusted sheriff. "Don't let anyone find out."

Koster had just been mentored by the director and was eager to prove his loyalty: "Don't worry, Boss!"

""

Valerie Pierce was happily planning how to spend the $25,000, dawdling until the end of the workday.

She drove home after get off work at noon and saw a police car parked in front of her house.

She didn't care.

The NYPD and OCME have a very good relationship and frequently exchange information.

A bearded sheriff stepped forward: "Valerie Pierce?"

Valerie asked curiously, "Is something the matter?"

"Coaster, Sheriff." Coaster showed his badge. "Come with me. The chief has something to discuss with you."

The bureau chief? Why would such a big shot as the bureau chief want to see me? Valerie's heart began to race.

She had just made a shady deal with O'Connor and was feeling a bit guilty.

"No—what is it you want? I can't go with you."

Koster emphasized again: "Valerie! Henry Carter wants to see you, the director of the NYPD. I think you'd better listen to him."

Valerie's hands began to tremble.

What could possibly require the NYPD chief to meet with me in person?

That would only involve troublesome matters involving high-ranking police officers like Inspector O'Connor.

Valerie knew that O'Connor's request for her to send people to the island was definitely illegal; otherwise, why would he give her money?

As soon as they received the money, the director of the NYPD came knocking on their door!

Valerie was almost in tears.

"Sir, I...I...—"

The sheriff squinted at Valerie. As a frontline officer who dealt with criminals year-round, he knew all too well what this state meant.

This woman must have done something shady!

"Get in the car."

Valerie dared not resist.

If someone else were to contact her, she might be able to get help from OCME officials.

But the director—

She didn't even dare to ask OCME executives to intercede on her behalf.

She sat in the car, her hands and feet trembling, her face pale.

Koster secretly sent Henry a message: "We're on our way back. She's terrified and must have sold a lot of corpses."

Henry was in a good mood; this was one of the few pieces of good news he had received recently.

"Use those guys to scare her. I'll ask her myself later."

"OK, Boss!"

The two quickly reached an understanding.

Valerie was taken directly to a solitary interrogation room when she arrived at the police station.

Two burly men with cold expressions dragged her inside, pressed her down into a chair, handcuffed her to the table, and shackled her feet to the iron chair, fixing her in place.

Valerie was terrified.

Only $2.5!

What are you doing!

It's like I killed someone!

The armrests of the iron chair were icy cold. After her wrists were handcuffed, her first reaction was to pull them back, but she couldn't.

Valerie's hands and feet trembled, and she began to sob, "Don't treat me like this, I just want to make some money."

Henry and the sheriff deliberately left Valerie hanging for ten minutes.

This timing is both designed to terrify her and prevent her from calming down enough to start fabricating lies.

Ten minutes later, with a "bang," the door was kicked open.

Valerie was startled.

Henry and Coster walked in with cold faces, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Valerie trembled all over.

Henry gave Koster a wink, and Koster went to a corner and used chewing gum to block the camera.

In reality, the cameras weren't even turned on. This wasn't an interrogation; it was pure intimidation. But Valerie didn't understand interrogation procedures.

When she saw this, she thought they were going to torture her to extract a confession. She was so frightened that tears and snot streamed down her face, and she could barely sit still in her chair. If she hadn't been handcuffed, she would have shrunk back down.

"Don't do this! Don't do this to me!"

Her voice was squeezed out of her throat, like a cat being choked.

"I'm Henry Carter, the director of the NYPD," Henry said, deliberately gruff. "If you don't want to suffer, tell me everything you know. You know what I'm asking."

19

The chief is interrogating me personally! That damned O'Connor, what have you done?! Valerie hurriedly said, "Yes! Yes! I'll tell you everything! O'Connor asked me to secretly send him to Hart Island, and he gave me twenty-five thousand dollars! I didn't know what he was going to do, really! I just took the money and sent him to the island! And I didn't do anything! Chief Carter, please let me go, I'm just a lowly clerk, I really don't know anything."

Henry's expression froze for a moment, and Koster was also taken aback.

What Valerie said was completely different from what he had imagined.

How did this get involved with O'Connor?

Could there be an unexpected gain?

They both remained silent for a while.

Valerie grew increasingly frightened: "Really! Spare me! I didn't do anything else! I really didn't!"

Henry coldly replied, "Continue."

Valerie quickly recounted all of O'Connor's dealings with her.

Henry narrowed his eyes, overjoyed.

He finally understood what O'Connor was trying to do and had also found a weakness in Samuel's hands.

Samuel used his position as a marine police superintendent to do some shady things on Hart Island, which O'Connor and Isabella discovered, and they planned to use it to kill Samuel.

Valerie didn't know what Samuel had done on the island, but Henry knew it must have been dangerous, otherwise O'Connor wouldn't have brought so many people and bought so many weapons.

It's probably something like arms trading or gang smuggling.

If he seizes this opportunity, he can both gain leverage over Samuel and use others to kill Isabella, killing two birds with one stone!

The only problem now is that Henry doesn't know if Isabella will come to the island.

According to the plan, at 2 p.m., Valerie was to send an OCME corpse transport ship to Hart Island, and O'Connor would also go aboard the ship to the island.

This is the last chance!

Time was too tight, and Henry didn't have time to make any more plans. He didn't know if Isabella had originally planned to come to the island, but now he could only put more pressure on Isabella so that she would be more likely to choose to fight to the death.

Henry Carter quickly made up his mind and sent a new message to the internal OA: "After investigation, Isabella Rose's case is quite serious, and her suspension has been extended to 3 weeks."

After he finished typing, he carefully read it three times before clicking send.

Then Henry said, "Valerie, this is a big deal! Go back and continue getting O'Connor to the island. Don't say or do anything else. If you complete your mission, I guarantee this has nothing to do with you, and your status as a witness will not be revealed. If you mess it up, I guarantee you'll be thrown into the worst federal prison and serve twenty years!"

Debbie was incredibly excited: "Quick, quick, quick!"

She sneaked after Richard into his garage, then crawled into the back seat, crouched down, and hid under the car door.

Richard drove away, surrounded by a group of FBI agents and police officers.

Catherine, meanwhile, pretended that Debbie was still at home to attract the attention of the FBI and the police.

The vehicle slowly left the residential area.

"Yay! We're finally out!" Debbie was overjoyed. She felt like she was going crazy after being cooped up at home for a day or two.

After saying that, she tried to climb from the back seat to the front seat.

Richard quickly stopped him: "No! It would be troublesome if someone saw us on the street."

"Okay." Debbie could only shrink back.

I passed a church on the way and saw a group of believers gathered at the entrance, removing the empty cross from the top of the church and replacing it with a crucifix.

Debbie stared in disbelief: "What are they doing?"

"What? You announced it yourself: the empty cross is heresy..."

""

Richard said dismissively.

Debbie was a little confused.

Half an hour later, the two arrived at Emily's house.

Emily's house is a detached house, a typical American two-story house.

The neighborhood environment is pretty good, only a little worse than Catherine's house.

However, it is quieter, and many of the neighbors are colleagues of the NYPD, making it extremely safe.

Emily opened the door and said enthusiastically, "Hi! Saint-Debbie! Richard! It's so good to see you both!"

Helen stepped out from behind her: "Come in quickly, Richard! Saint-Debbie!"

Debbie felt a little embarrassed: "Hello. Just call me Debbie."

She carried a simple gift: a bottle of red wine and a box of cookies.

Richard then brought out a bouquet of flowers.

Helen was pleasantly surprised; this was the first time Richard had ever given her flowers. She immediately accepted them, blushing, and said, "Thank you, I love them."

Richard was taken aback for a moment.

Helen immediately realized her mistake and quickly shoved the flowers into her owner Emily's hands, feeling so embarrassed she wanted to disappear into the ground.

Hmm? Debbie squinted at her, a strong sense of vigilance rising in her heart.

Emily seemed oblivious to everything, simply accepting the flowers and warmly ushering the two into the room.

Richard, however, clearly saw that jealousy had ignited within the desires of both Debbie and Emily.

Holy crap?!

Three women on the same stage!

Richard finally realized he had made a huge mistake.

He stood at the door for two seconds before walking into the room, his toothache making him feel uncomfortable.

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