Now, the protagonist is devising a new scheme. One that obeys no moral code which is the basis for the philosophizing of it. A merely diabolic plan playing with hearts and minds, demolishing lives and relations.
The protagonist is sitting in his dark room with a sour smile on his face indicating the bitterness of the genius he inherits.
But deep down, he knows for sure that it’s just pleasure driving his creativity. Or, preferably, a psycho-analytical motivation for the corruption of all that is, supposedly, set wonderful maybe just out of a baseless urge for a change.
Such a sick protagonist…
