دانلود رمان انگلیسی “جهانی که ما شکستیم”

If there is something that I (Byouinzaka Kuroneko) definitely cannot tolerate about this illogical and irrational world, and this might be slightly unexpected for the people that know about me, it’s this one single thing—that is, not comprehending. Generally speaking, whether that thing is trivial, minute, or inversely major or essential, I considerably despise it. For things that cannot be theorised, for things that cannot be explained by reason, just their existence in this world alone makes my stomach hurt, my mood hurt, so much that I even feel like throwing up on the spot. I wish for this world to at least be within the reach of my comprehension—However, though it is a shame (going completely against my meagre wish), from my perspective, this world is far too incomplete and far too imperfect. As my beloved friend would say, it is broken. Whether it has been broken all along or has become like this due to someone’s doing, that my beloved friend’s words do not conclude—anyhow, it has settled still being incomplete and imperfect. For instance, I ask a question—yet, there is no one to answer it. I have always been on the questioned side. As if answering the gods’ quizzes is the homework bestowed upon my brief life. Although, unlike my beloved friend, I do not think one little bit that this world is broken—even though it is incomplete and imperfect, I wouldn’t dare go as far as to think it is broken. Even if it was hypothetically broken, I think it would be well within the range of what can be restored. That is why I will continue to answer the gods’ quizzes—without ever giving up on getting an answer, without ever saying “I don’t understand.” All the while foolishly thinking that giving this answer will allow my worthless life the privilege of being sustained.

Considering all of that, on the twelfth of January at around nine in the morning at K International Airport, I was sitting on my travel trunk, waiting for my beloved friend. If you’ll let me state the natural comment a third year high schooler would have, this day was scheduled to be right after the CenterTest. That said, I had not taken that test, but of course, our schedule was made to arrange for my beloved friend. Our appointment was set to be at half past nine in the morning—my beloved friend had the habit of showing up at appointments approximately 30 minutes in advance. However, since I had a routine of arriving to places one hour early, in reality it was like our scheduled time was more around quarter to eight o’clock. If we didn’t think that way, we wouldn’t be coherent with each other. I didn’t know the result of my beloved friend’s Center Test—and it would’ve been easy to find out had I wanted to—but since he hadn’t said anything, it was safe to assume his score was lower than what he had aimed for. Although unlike me, he was a proper test-taker; if he wasn’t, then even with hypothetically overly lenient parents, he wouldn’t be permitted to go on an overseas vacation at this time of year.