He looked at El Chavo.
Every wish was a nightmare. Because Kabillion didn't understand enough . He understood everything . All at once. Without context. As the neighborhood groaned under the weight of gold and toys and false respect, El Chavo sat on the edge of the cracked barrel. He wasn't crying. He was thinking. kabillion el chavo
Kabillion froze. For the first time in his existence, he encountered a paradox. He could grant infinite quantity. He could grant cosmic power. But he had never been asked for moderation . For balance . His programming—his very soul—rebelled. He looked at El Chavo