Hey, what’s your number?

Seventy four? That’s pathetic.

That’s what happens when you encumber.

I’m a ninety-six. It gives the report a nice aesthetic.

You’re too low on the numerical indicator.

Anyone below a ninety has no worth.

If we consult the value translator,

You’re one of the most useless subjects on Earth.

Don’t know what to do? That’s your fault.

Had no one to teach you? Not my problem.

Don’t have resources? You’re worthless by default.

Have hidden potential? Don’t care. You’re dumb.

I can size you up with just a glance.

Why should I bother with slow-witted swine?

But I’ll give you one more chance.

Let’s see what you got… eighty nine.

I don’t care if you were about to be right.

You took too long to become devout.

We don’t give you time to learn how to fight.

You should know it already and burn yourself out.

Your achievements don’t matter if you’ve been surpassed,

Even if you have the potential to become something greater.

Your only chance to be loved has passed.

All hail the numerical indicator.