Unique Delivery System (NO isekai/ NO Mary Sue/ NO Harem/ Comedy)

[RiP]

Chapter 21

* * *

"You know why slime girls are the best? They're always wet!"

I looked at Stick-in-the-ass, then at Oleg. Without turning away from the monitor, he waved his hands, "I don't know this man". It's impressive how he realized that he needed a Booster for Intelligence. Did he read the guide? Although no. He listened to the video instead.

"Look, Oleg," the protagonist of the TV series about the creators turned around in his chair and raised an eyebrow questioningly. We were sitting in his office, they have the main site here, and he was lazily assembling some video on his personal PC. "Why didn't you just ask how much the potion cost?"

The Creator sighed (he was generally a silent hero and preferred to communicate in gestures):

"We found out. But the minimum offer was one and a half times more than we collected as a team, and time is short. Is it really true that everyone in the System is such a crook?"

"No, it's simpler than that-you're from Skills, and everyone knows that creators always have something. Not now - you'll quickly make more, so everyone's cutting you off. We, Delivery, are couriers and drivers, logistics. There's a lot of money and lots of opportunities, but all the time in the cold, stomp-stomp-stomp by the legs, and interact with unpleasant creatures that can eat you. And you "rich IT people", there, in the office, you're always sitting in warm armchairs, and all you have to do is to press a button with your finger. This joker," I nodded at Stick-in-the-ass, "seems to be in his office once a day? And he makes as much money the same day as I do in a month!"

"So what opportunities do you have?"

I condescendingly looked at the Stick-in-the-ass, picked up my phone, flipped through it, and showed it to him.

"Uh... So they exist..."

"The hand is mine. This picture is from the day before yesterday."

He frowned angrily because Mira's tail was clutched in my hand. She was looking over her shoulder.

"Do you have more?!"

"I have, but I won't show you," I said, and bent down to explain. "Your eyes will burst, you little runt."

Hmm, am I overdoing it with the " Horny Fatty" image? No, it's just right. Besides, I remember how I got my ass kicked by an adventuress for being so inconsiderate. But the picture was worth it!

"Hey, what's going on around here, anyway?"

Rastaman on the other side of me spoke without quitting his character, a little long and gnarly. Oleg must have had some sort of main stage show because as soon as I came in with the elixir, they dragged me here. Or was it an accident? For example, put chairs from the tables along the wall, and formed a cot for Rasta and a sitter for Stick-in-the-ass, so they got used to it? Then again, his coffee machine is expensive.

"Unreal happens. It turns out that humans are a magical race, capable of embodying fantasies. And what helps us in this is the breakthrough of the Chaos Primordial, which is either there or not, or even invented, but in fact, it is different."

Everyone was silent, pondering the concept. The first to come to his senses was Stick-in-the-ass:

"And why don't you pump up the skills yourself?"

"Different classes, apparently. Or innate abilities? I haven't figured it out yet, and how can you figure out what's constantly changing? Well, the general principles."

"It's kind of murky..."

I tried to simplify:

"Look - you can create the skill of walking through worlds. And where I depend on the System, you will walk freely and easily."

"Yeah, right on! I only have four slots, one for combat, and one for survivability! Does Delivery have that?"

I estimated: "We also have slots, but for equipment, and without restrictions on the level. You can wear whatever you want. But the stronger you are, the farther they send you."

"Mm-hmm, I understand the principle. Don't you have any skills?"

"Default walking ability, plus I have one free slot. But I'm not doing anything with it yet."

"Makes sense, we too are all in doubt. In this game, it's easy to pump only combat. Xianxia, everything is tied to the fights. We're still two months away from magic!"

"And others have tried."

All three shook their heads, but Stick-in-the-ass answered again: "Does not work for some reason. We tried everything, but the program doesn't catch them!"

Well, yes, at first I was also running a routine. I had to work my head to get to the profitable quests. I could tell them... But first I'll get a set of skills for my charges. Friendship is friendship, I'll definitely bring them what I ordered, but to hint at the fact that the Systems have the option to maneuver yet a little too early. I will make a premium for the deal - it costs nothing, and they will be pleased.

"Look, what other Systems are there?"

"Different, but the only two big ones are Development and Hunting."

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know, I haven't encountered it yet."

I didn't tell him that I planned to go to the Hunt Territory. Who knows how it would turn out? If a seasoned delivery man said "don't mess with it," it meant something. But I had already been shown a list of almost ready skills, I could download myself and go to the Mages Guild... and there's no material. In fact, I should have searched for analogs of this particular item, as it turned out that they were all in " Hunt Territory". Suspicious.

I wish I knew what that meant.

How about ordering another guide? Ha, and how did the guide about the dummies help me? Calm me down a little bit? But should I calm down if I'm about to go on a dangerous raid? Or is it better to be scared and scared of every shadow, but come back home?

My musings were interrupted by the swinging door. The Stern Man burst in, gave us a wild look, then jumped up to me and grabbed my hand and began to shake it, silently and furiously expressing his satisfaction with the quality of the potion he had brought. Only half a minute later he finally uttered an articulate, "It worked! She's better now!"

Oleg and Stick-in-the-ass gave me triumphant applause, and I was about to turn the conversation to how I was going to get my skills when I heard an extended cry: "Won't you get in trouble? The girl's been treated for a year, right? Suddenly she's healthy?"

Everyone turned to me as the chief expert on miracles, and I had to pull out my phone again: "Inspector, good afternoon. Am I interrupting? No, it's all right, it's a working matter for you-I brought a healing potion for the Skills boys. A girl needed to be healed. It's all through the System, with the ordering, I remember the rules. But there won't be any questions about the miraculously healed girl? Yeah, got it. By the way, what about those demons our bespectacled guy spotted? Staying home? Of course, that's what I'm gonna do! I'm not an idiot!"

After saying goodbye, I explained: "There is nothing wrong with it, you can safely use it. Everyone will assume that the previous treatment has worked."

Stern Man shook my hand again, thanking me, and then nodded at the phone: "What is this, the Watch?"

"Who?"

"You know, the "Others"?"

"Which one?"

"Well, there was also a movie!"

We looked at Stick-in-the-ass and Rastaman; they obviously didn't understand either. Stern one grimaced, and slowly, as if to the dumb ones, explained:

"About Zavulon and Gesser!"

Something about the names was vaguely familiar and I clarified: "Korean, right? Ranobe or manga?"

He just spat and ran out the door. Why is he freaking out, now there are so many of these junk films, and what, to remember every single title? Oleg, smiling somewhere in space, deduced the important thing: "Demons? Here, in our place?"

"It seems they are everywhere. It's the embodiment of the unreal through our fears... Or not our fears. But the sage of Delivery says that while you don't see them, they don't see you either."

All three creators equally stared at the ceiling, and Oleg was the first to speak: "Mystical Eye, a quest for the second week?"

"Forty days from the start."

"Plus six or one for pumping."

"But you have to do it anyway. There's no way around it."

Apparently, it was something in the language of the creators.

As I stood up, I slung the bag over my shoulder: "It's time, I have a day of important things to do. Your special orders are already in progress, almost all paid for. Don't get your hopes up for exact fulfillment, though, but it will be close."

"What have you ordered for us?"

"When they finish the job, I'll tell you."

"And if I want something else?"

I moved my eyebrows toward Stick-in-the-ass again and hinted: "You know where the board is, you know my name. You make an order and I'll bring it to you. And I'll even take only twice or three times what it's worth!"

Oleg suddenly said somewhere in space: "All gamers know that couriers are dangerous guys. They are sent to different places..."

"And we come back rested and with a magnet!"

"Or with a bunch of heads in a bag. If to think about it, you might be sent not just to carry something, but to deliver a bullet to someone's forehead. Or in the back."

It sounded logical enough. I had to give them a theory about the titles of the Deliverers to reassure them. I waved goodbye and teleported outside while they were arguing.

Messenger of the Delivery System Marius - 11 Lv.

For yesterday's rescue mission I got two levels at once. I must have misunderstood something. Because it was just a normal quest, right? Although my back still hurts. It's a dangerous job... but not boring.

I pulled up the black and red leather glove on my left hand in an affectation gesture. My precious! I took the first artifact not on the System's recommendation, but on my own wits. Inexpensive, which is essential, stopped at ten of the current rank. That is, the complication of quests does not give. On the other hand, it is obviously self-made, or rather a redesign of something cool, broken, and found at the dump.

First, the glove was unmatched. The extended description (minus a hundred points, robbery!) listed a set of seven items, with full functionality listed as "general construction work". Secondly, instead of streaming energy expenditure, she received a limit of five expendable charges, and the seller honestly warned that the fifth there is purely nominal, because the artifact begins to siphon and most of the energy goes into the glow. But nevertheless two coins for one charge, plus a percentage for the service.

The result was a situational gadget on the level of a messenger bag. But at the moment of work, the glove became conceptually indestructible! And it extended these qualities to the operator! It was a pity that it took three seconds to spend one charge. But to be a superman for twelve seconds was worth it! Well, the money was not much, and that's a plus. Yesterday I had a chance to try it out: I don't know what that driver was thinking, parked on the sidewalk, but after looking around and seeing no one, I pretended to grab it with both hands, then the activation of the glove... the car was no heavier than my bag. Two charges, but so much fun!

And the fact that now any five... well, any four strikes on me will not be stronger than hitting me with an empty messenger bag, is a little reassuring. Not enough to stop worrying, but enough not to panic in a critical situation.

Then again, I have a day's work to do on those two charges. So sad.

Go to an alley, and leave your footprints in the snow.

Snow was present here, even though it seemed to be summer behind me. I had to raise the hood of my cape, hiding my hands in my sleeves. But the winter city only lasted about two minutes - empty, deserted. Not dead, but empty.

Walk down the street without turning around.

I'm on my way. Although it was suddenly spring, there were no more people around. Maybe all these worlds are really a reflection of my inner world. I lack communication. This constant chatter on the stream, when some people come in, you explain something to them, they say in response all sorts of nonsense, their remarks are voiced by a stupid voice, and so on. I've never liked to make jokes, but it is nice to yap. And where is the courier to chitchat?

Enter the square, stop by an old tree, and wait for the signal.

Or "Hello, I'm here for the order" or "hello, your order"; the blessing of Delivery, expressed in the absence of waiting, is rather a minus here, even with goat-footed people you can't chat. In the evening there is no energy left. It seems like you do nothing all day, you go somewhere, and you get tired... although I have nothing to compare it with.

Enter the light gray part of the gate.

Wow, I was walking and walking and there was nothing, and then suddenly - the gate.

Really big, about ten meters long. Surprisingly, the scanner did not recognize them. Or rather, the machine did not see them at all, showing a beautiful landscape. Sort of like the inscription in the recruitment hall, only for the select few? The light gray part is the center, the farther to the edges, the darker the colors. Well, shall we walk?

Attention! You are in the territory of the Hunt!

Recommendation - reduce communication with adepts of the Hunt.

On that side of the gate was a large lobby of some kind of shopping center.

Ten paces from the edge were armed police officers, looking in my direction without interest. In fact, the only person who paid attention to me was at the reception desk, the most ordinary one with monitors, businesslike staff, and a girl smiling invitingly in my direction. Apparently, I have to go to this smile as a beacon of light? I'll be impolite.

The description of my order included the note "Bazaar, fourth floor, ask Alexei," so without paying attention to the grinning maiden, I made my way to the elevator. Did not call out, did not stop, as if it were really in the custom of things here couriers come from a gate hanging in the air. Though a few men with guns and armor and helmets stepped out of the portal, no one flinched. One of them had a respirator on his face and a pike in his hand for some reason. Who do they hunt with that kind of equipment? Or is he a local freak?

As the elevator went up, I looked down the hall through the scanner. Behind the counter and in uniform were all "adepts," but those who came through the gate were called "hounds". Only the freak with the respirator had a strip of questions over his head. And all had levels no higher than ten. Either I'm in the sandbox, or it just started here.

Another "hound," a man in camouflage, stood in the aisle to the former food court:

"Do you need help?"

"No, thanks, I have an appointment. Where's Alexei here?"

The guard pointed his hand and propped himself up against the wall again.

The former food court was now a sparsely populated flea market, and the salesman I was looking for was hiding in the kitchen of the former pizzeria. A tall, overweight man was spreading a pile of junk on a table, checking the notes in his notebook, scribbling something with a pen, and shifting the items that had already been accounted for.

"Good afternoon, are you Alexei?"

The man, Hound of the Hunt - 13 Lv, didn't even turn around, tossing over his shoulder: "Yep."

"Did you post the skill sheets at the auction?"

"Actually on a closed forum for stalkers."

Ah, that's what they call themselves. And Delivery, of course, got into their forum.

"I'm Marius, I asked you in PM.".

The stalker nodded, took a bound pile of shabby paper from the pile of junk already accounted for, and set it aside: "Sale, all sold at seven."

"Will you cut it down for wholesale?"

"The clerks are buying out at a five each!"

Adepts, huh? So the hunters don't know their system names? Okay, stop: "If they're buying, are they selling? How much do they charge?"

He grimaced, but lowered his price: "Give me six and a half if you take it all at once."

I looked over the stack, and checked again with the scanner:

Blank Skill Sheet

Available for recording and transferring skills.

I palpated it, looked at the light, and laid it out. All seemed to be the same.

"Remind me how to use them?"

The salesman explained in a dejected voice, showing in every way how much he didn't like me: "When you pass the Gate, you wish to absorb it, sometimes with a small chance to learn something. Not as from the artifacts, a percentage of the strength, but immediately the full skill."

And what is there to absorb from them if they are empty? Or they just don't know how to detect it? I have a system scanner, and the hunters have what? But anyway: "It is too little here."

Stalker, judging by his behavior, was not interested in profit: "That's all I have. When I left the application was a hundred and fifty, but then the guild bought out half of it for the newbies. First-timers are lucky, just in case."

"But I need more."

And again the indifferent answer: "Search, there are ten more at the bazaar."

He finished with the accounting and started putting the bags of artifacts into big checkered bags. Okay, let's go in on the other side: "What's the price of the water of life here?"

The man suddenly laughed: "We don't have this kind of stuff here. At the bazaar, the only trashy blues".

"I have ten drops."

The stalker froze, then turned to me and stood up abruptly: "Are you kidding?"

I put the bag on the table, opened the Velcro with a crack, took a vial out of the pocket, and showed it to him:

"Ten drops of "water of life," saturation above twenty. I need one hundred and thirty sheets of skill."

I prepared the water as a last chance because I didn't have enough cash for everything. I packed it in three vials, just in case, but I don't know the price. The pharmacist said that when well saturated, this very water was the perfect catalyst for decoctions with beneficial effects. Practically a guarantee of no side effects, which is why it is valued.

"Show me closer..."

"From the hands."

We glared at each other, and then he rushed to the exit, and called for some "Volodya," looking back at me nervously. Almost immediately, a well-dressed clerk with a nametag on his chest came running in, and immediately started babbling:

"Hello, my name is Vladimir, and today I am an official middleman at the Bazaar. Can I see your goods?"

Apparently, my face is expressive enough, because he immediately began to clarify: "How long have you been able to see?"

I answered honestly: "It hasn't even been ten days yet."

The middle man nodded and clarified again: "The cape and bag are from the dungeon? I've seen those on the base somewhere."

And what to answer? He didn't wait for an answer, though: "We, the "office people," that is, the "system NPC," we cannot lie. We are punished for it. And you can't kill us either, so there's always a middleman in the bazaar who guarantees the deal on behalf of the Office. We can not break our word, and we will not let you break yours. Everything is fair."

"What percentage do you charge?"

"Do you intend to go to the Gates?"

Do I intend to? Well, if the quest system shows the way, then what can I do: "Rather yes than no."

"This is enough. If you want, you can register, it gives you certain..."

The salesman coughed and the middleman abruptly cut short his speech: "Would you allow me?"

This time I gave the vial away. The adept and the hound stared at the regular vial as if there were not the drops of moisture at the bottom, but at least diamonds. Alexei was the first one who couldn't stand it:

"Look, where did you get it? Do you remember the spectrum? I have an epic I was saving for myself, I can trade it!"

Apparently, it's a really useful thing. By the way: "Explain why stalkers need water."

'Volodya' replied: "When absorbed, it permanently strengthens the immune system to the level of the office staff," he tapped his chest with his finger. "The stalker doesn't get our regeneration, but it cures any ailments instantly."

That's it? That's what the absence of healing potions does to people. Okay, stop:

"Absorption?"

"Don't you get it?" The hound and the adept looked at each other. "When you pass through the gate, you can wish for anything you find there to become part of you. Part of the power depends on the item's grade."

Creating amazing creatures capable of hunting gods and demons suddenly popped into my head. Exact description.

"Okay, but I need one hundred and thirty sheets."

The stalker and the clerk looked at each other. Alexei quickly did the math: "I have seventy-two."

The middleman took out his phone, and checked it: "We'll make up the difference, we have some stock, but it's in the warehouse right now. The papers will be delivered tomorrow morning."

Well, in the morning it is in the morning.

Attention! Respected Messenger Marius - a long stay in the territory of the Hunt increases the likelihood of joining the Pack.

There's no escaping the Delivery System.

"I need it now."

They did not ask why I was in such a hurry. Vladimir nodded: "I'll order express delivery."

"And what will you ask for?"

The stalker replied: "Obviously. They always ask for it!"

And the clerk immediately confirmed with a smile: "You go now to the gate, above the level of the "sand," and we'll set everything up in the meantime."

Take part in the hunt, then? One time is not a hound? Not even a Pekingese or a Chihuahua. The phone was silent, I had to choose for myself. I glanced at Alexei, but he shook his head negatively:

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going with the first-timer, we'll be set to the maximum difficulty. The rewards there are good, but not now."

Adept... Why is he an "adept" and not a "dogman"?

'Volodya' immediately suggested: We form a team for a short dungeon, you go through it, and we divide the "water" according to the contribution to the deal. By the end of the tour, the sheets will be waiting for you.

Stalker grimaced but agreed. So all that's left to do is talk me out?

"Okay, I agree. Who is the leader, who tanks?"

* * *

 

[RiP]

Chapter 22

* * *

The first alarm bells rang when they tried to give me a weapon. That is an automatic rifle with ammunition, plus body armor and a helmet. No one cared that I had accidentally walked in off the street into this crazy place - here's a gun for you, boy, go shoot! But to get a machine gun I had to register, and the System clearly advises me not to get involved with "adepts", so I said I would do it on my own. And then the bell rang number two - the office "adept" examined me and a little digging in the phone gave the characteristics of my courier equipment. He even guessed that it was not upgraded and listed the options for improvement!

Of course, you'd think the hunters had finished off one of the unreal monsters that had snacked on my colleagues before, but something tells me it was sadder than that.

Nevertheless, my teammates were already waiting for me next to the "portal".

"Hey, what's your name? The clerk's office hired me for an unscheduled one, they say you're a lucky rookie, is that you? I'm Vasek, this is Dimon, why didn't you bring a gun?"

The babbling guy was in his forties, a slouchy, short, lively fellow. I guess I'll call him Sparky. I always have trouble remembering names, nicknames are easier. Funny, I can tell what the person was wearing, how he moved, and what intonation in the conversation, but the name with all these images begins to harmonize only the second or third month of dense communication. Maybe because names often do not coincide with personalities?

Nicknames in the game are much easier to remember. Although why think badly of yourself? Not "bad memory", but "immediately see the essence of the person and discard unnecessary details"!

"I have this," I waved my left hand, showing my glove. " Is that enough for me?"

"If we're going to your dungeon, that should be enough."

He wouldn't stop babbling, and I even checked him with the scanner just in case. Not "hound," but "huski". In general, if we follow the principle, there should be "watchdogs", "minks" and others. But what makes me think that the Hunting Swarm is always a canine?

"So we're going to the "green zone", right? The scenario should be simple, and a third of the group we have a newbie, it gives relief, plus we go without epics - nothing complicated should be, right?"

From the endless monologue, which our third listened to with a patient expression of the whole body, I learned that the hunters are already quite good at navigating their System. You can choose the right adventure by color, plus it's intuitive to know what to do on the spot - convenient, right? Or here's the thing - you can't lie behind the gate! Very curious information, especially when coupled with the stories of our Sage about the safety while on the trail. Only we don't just talk, we also need to think with caution...

"Ready to go? Come on, Marius, look for the entrance."

I looked at Sparky, at the gray-green-blue mist of the portal hovering a meter away. My thoughts didn't come up, so I spit on my stealth and pulled out my phone, and turned on the scanner. The hunters looked serious as if that were the right thing to do. And also with impatience, like, "How much longer can we wait? Okay, okay, the command "walk" will come now.

One and a half steps to the right, into the curve of the treble clef.

By the way, I don't have order right now! And why did the System Prompt work? I took a step to the right and put my phone down and started to move my hand, just short of touching the gate. At some point they suddenly flowed with light smoke, I tensed up and when I caught something even slightly resembling the indicated figure I stepped forward. Did it seem or didn't it, that the places covered by the cloak squeezed through the gate a little easier?

"Whoops... So, are we going to clean the temple? Not bad, there are not only artifacts but there is also gold and stones sometimes!"

Sparky stepped forward with his assault rifle at the ready, the Third followed him, mimicking a pro. I'd seen real commandos walk; this one mimicked movie ones at best. But his weapon wasn't a toy, you must remember.

Just in case, I swiped my phone back and forth, and I was hardly surprised when the picture drew what was unembodied. Both of my teammates were "smoking". Not like a real demon, but as if they were wet in the sun. Rookies, huh?

I sighed - hadn't I seen demons before? - I looked around. The ceilings were high, about ten meters high, and the columns, big as Egyptian temples, led up to them. The walls and columns are decorated with carvings, but some vague, as if they had begun to emerge from the stone, but had not yet decided what exactly they would depict. There are slabs underfoot that don't seem to have been erased either, but the ornamentation is almost indistinguishable. In short, not Unreal Engine 5 at all.

"There."

Sparky walked looking at everything over the sight, carefully stepping in small steps, turning his whole body around, not lowering his weapon. And what now, we will search in the "ruins of the temple" for the main monster, fighting off the henchmen at the same time? Solving puzzles, marking the walls of the labyrinth, scattering nuts, and fumbling for hidden panels? The hunters walked more and more confidently with each step; it was as if they were waking up and beginning to act. Sparky wasn't joking anymore, they weren't saying anything at all, and I was pacing behind them as if I'd brought burgers and a Coke to another laser tag game just as the guys' turn came up. Now they'd shoot off their session and pay attention to the guy in the raincoat with the big bag trailing sullenly behind them.

The flash behind me didn't even alarm me.

I just stared at the wall, where a huge winged silhouette suddenly appeared, and then suddenly they started shooting.

"Dimon, pin him down! Push! Go, go, go!"

Sparky yelled, shooting past me, and I froze, unsure of what to do, and only cringed at the flashes. The two hunters in front of me were firing wildly toward the exit, and behind me, there was a rumble and a glare - not something I'd been prepared for in my life.

"Have a good day!"

Poke, poke, step.

I turned around - Mopey was lying on the floor, twitching strangely, and
Sparky was firing his pistol, cocking his ass in a funny sort of crouch. And then it flared up again and the stalker fell to the floor against his partner, twitching as if from electricity.

"Have a good day!"

I stepped across the hall to the far wall and wondered if I should hang the bag on my belly as additional protection, but I decided not to make any sudden moves. The stalkers were lying motionless, no blood visible, and everything looked like a shocker. Was there a crunch? I do not remember, and my ears are still ringing from the firing. There was no smell of ozone...

There was suddenly a sound from the side, and I mechanically said goodbye and moved out of sight, then retreated into the thicker shade. What to do in such a situation? My hand slid mechanically to the phone, I listened, moved the brightness slider to the minimum, and then quickly opened the settings.

Warranty - turn on.

Yes/no

Yes.

It didn't get any calmer, but the pulse in my temples stopped pounding. Someone's here, someone with a long-range weapon that flashes when it works. Who could it be? What am I supposed to do? Let's say it's a priest of the local lightning god, how do I deal with him?

And I think it hit me because my back is aching. It's a real sore spot for me, the back! Straight first shot and hit me, I was coming in last and he missed us and covered us from behind, but didn't get through the cape, just hit me lightly.

I froze, with my head slightly lowered. There was no breathing, no creaking of dust underfoot. Trying not to rustle the sleeve of my cape, I poked under my feet, then guessed where the shadows were thicker, pointed there, and lifted my foot: "Hey, where are you?"

Balancing on one foot, keeping my toe an inch away from the transfer spot, I listened. Silence.

"Hello, anyone home? Or did you run away?"

I was even surprised at how ordinary my voice sounded. Even though my heart was jumping to my throat a minute ago.

"Have a goof day!"

Step...

Immediately a huge figure flashed on the wall again, spreading its wings!

There was no time to poke, someone behind me was running toward me with a yell, I just threw up my hand and thought as loudly as I could: "Activation!"

I was hit five times in three seconds, but I could only see it. The glove's protection worked, I felt nothing, only the attacker's short baton flashed when he touched me.

"Have a good day!"

I couldn't escape, my hand shook, and I got out only ten paces away. Immediately, another shock struck my long-suffering back.

"Activation!"

I fought back, trying not to hurt anyone. But the enemy was too dodgy.

"Have a good day! Asshole, get out of here!"

For some reason, I didn't feel like hitting him. With the indestructibility and unstoppability of the glove, it would have been like hitting with a wall cannon.

"Activation!"

This time he didn't just hit but howled in the process, and after a series of short pokes, accompanied by sparks, he jumped back and raised his baton with both hands in front of him, like a sword hilt. I retreated to the wall:

"Let's not do anything stupid!"

"Activation!"

The flash was particularly bright, and my opponent, a young man of Central Asian appearance, but wearing a shabby European cut camisole, retreated, goggling his eyes. Apparently, it was a special attack.

How many more charges do I have?

It was clearly more than he had. Because the priest suddenly yelled something and threw his baton at me and ran away as fast as if he really, really had to. That's good, because what am I going to do with him? Not kill, right...

"Hunters? Hey, stalkers, how are you?"

I avoided the baton, just in case. What if there's a last-chance timer? It might blow up...

"Marius? Alive?"

Sparky rolled over on his side with a groan and coughed: "Where is that one?"

"He ran away."

"He's lucky, or I'd have had him for that sort of thing... Help... No, let me breathe... That's an ugly script, think about it..."

He chattered in a half-whisper, holding his head, but his rhythm was almost normal. He'd make it. There was his partner, too, starting to move.

The stalkers first grabbed their weapons, then turned their heads and looked at each other: "Did you see where he ran off to?"

"No, he's obviously decided he's had enough."

"That's right, or I would..."

The enumeration of punishments against the insidious and surely vicious servant of evil stopped only when they blew up the altar with a blast-pack in its ruins and found some kind of "heart. Both stalkers just didn't jump for joy. On the rights of the "winner" I withdrew from the looting, and only occasionally checked the loot with the scanner. My glove was discharged, my back hurt, my mood was bad, and I still had to walk home. Stalkers answer the question, return scrolls in free trade do not exist, and the office will set such a price that ... Maybe I could buy a return skill from the creators. I'm sure they can think of something. Or look for amulets in my setting?

"How shall we share?"

I checked the junk spread out on the floor. Some of it was defined as "system items," and some of them only had names.

"Look, there's some gold here. You don't have to sell it to the clerks, you can save it."

I didn't want to argue for the loot from such a lame boss, clearly a quest for those who had just come out of the tutorial, I didn't want to. So I sternly said, "What's taken in battle is sacred," and took myself a bludgeon, while the rest of the loot the hounds happily began to stuff into their bags.

"Well done, fatty! You pulled round, is that what you guys say? What did you lose some?"

I slammed the flap of the bag shut and re-asked:

"Loose?"

"Oh, yeah, that damn light! What do I want to finish this thing off - it's all gone! A month of progress down the drain!"

A glance at him through the scanner revealed, without much surprise, that both had almost stopped fuming. Yeah, a priest fighting demons, exorcising impure spirits. No surprise there.

I looked at the character page on the app: "I didn't lose anything. It's not like I "absorbed" anything."

"Well, yeah, it's beginner's luck. You're the lucky one because it's your first time in the group."

I didn't listen to any more of his talk. After packing, the stalkers moved toward the portal that opened in the wall, and I squeezed through it after them. On the other side waited for my eyes to adjust to the light, then I waited at the counter for the adepts to clarify the location of my order. The clerk Vladimir indeed glanced at me a couple of times as if to let me know that he suspected me of something.

What do I look like here? A stalker from another world? It's crazy, they might think that I'm much more experienced than I pretend to be, and I have a lot of artifacts. After all, I suppose even have a guild, I take a lot of skill sheets.

Stalkers were walking around, casually carrying weapons and discussing the next hunt. Some were slightly touched by the haze, and some were almost "foggy beasts," but they acted just like humans. The good-natured, well-fed monsters laughed, joked, said goodbye and hello, and looked on as the clerks looked at them. The adepts frightened me even more than the "hounds." The System is right; it's worth listening to.

I was about to turn off the warranty, but then my order was delivered. Just in case, I counted the sheets again, said goodbye, moved the slider to the "order delivered" position, waved goodbye to the people standing around me, and went outside. At least this time I didn't have to go back through the portals.

The warranty is a warranty, but the sweat was rolling down my back even my pants became wet.

* * *

 

[RiP]

Chapter 23

* * *
A city is like a city, some places are just like home. And it has the same name... Maybe it is one world and reality, like people, has its own disembodied, which is where I walk? Unless the portals hanging here and there is a little disorienting - how many passages to other worlds are there? Or are they simulations after all? To tame the hounds before the real hunt?

Hunt is much harsher than Delivery, you can't turn off the warranty, and they don't even have an app. Why be aware that you are a tool in someone's tentacles if everything is so good and successful? You enter the gate, shoot another loser, and take some of his power - where do the leftovers go?

I was also given sugar to a stray dog that happened to stray into the pack - both rings and the gauntlet were fully charged when I passed through the portal. And I got a thousand points on my Delivery account, a "hard work bonus". It seems like a small thing, but the System, which is charging for every sneeze, has dropped as much as a thousand. So it'd gotten a lot of energy through the courier's gear.

Something went crazy for me. Maybe it's the title's fault, maybe it's my fault - while I was waiting for the fun adventures, they came. But as soon as I thought about the meaning of what is happening immediately the degree of seriousness increased. Has our show brought in a new writer? Are the ratings dropping?

Angels from Delivery, Demons from the Hunt, Creators from Skills... hmm, who's missing? What do the guys in Development do? Build temples with pillars? What for? On the other hand, what makes me think I have to be an angel? I have already been summoned by demon worshippers at least once. They may have been pranksters but the System responded to the summons. That's a pretty bold hint. And then the creator Oleg said that we are dangerous guys. And I can not argue! Besides, did you see me from the side? Angels do not have that many chins!

I automatically followed the instructions that popped up in the app. I kept going, going somewhere, but why? Maybe I should get out of here? Shut everything down, bring the über-uns to a habitable place, and go home to my computer? What would a normal person do in my place? A year or so of C-rank quests, at the most, take some D. Trading past the cash register potions and reagents. Buy some useful skills from the Creators, and finally drink a potion of oblivion, not to remember the miracles and not even accidentally get into them again. Also a popular story, I'm not the only one who guessed that - "they lived happily ever after". How many such deniers of miracles are there in the world? Memorylessness guarantees safety; you don't see the demon, the demon doesn't eat your soul. But then, on the other hand, it eats someone else, and that's wrong.

Well, if the System exists, it means that it is needed for something. Everything has a right to exist.

Except for Fortnite.

Such trash must be destroyed.

I looked around, the places looked suspiciously familiar. That's what happens in dreams when everything seems right, but it's not the way it should be. What was Grandpa saying about dreams? And how do his words relate to the unreal? What about quantum physics? What if I had lost consciousness after a week of streaming and was now lying there, delirious? And the whole adventure was just a dream?

No, I've heard that's what screenwriters get kicked for.

I somehow managed to step to the side and see beyond the edge of the scenery. The real world, messy and held together by nails and duct tape, is not a fairy tale at all. To fascinate a miracle has to be real, shiny, and buzzing, and here it's just working with weird people, plus all the things you knew about but just never saw before. It's just "reality around the corner." Always knew there were magicians, superheroes, and other losers without a steady job around, after all. Now I'm one of them.

I was just lucky enough to learn a little bit more about the world. There are different kinds of luck: a friend of mine from the gaming guild told me how he made money on bitcoins - he bought them for ten dollars and sold them for a profit. When they were worth fifteen hundred. He bought a car and renovated his apartment. And in 2017 he wanted to commit suicide.

By the way, I haven't seen him online in a long time...

Slowly coming to my senses, I walked through the city, which was changing before my eyes. I got a little wet in the rain and stood in a back alley while a demonstration with black flags passed by. I upset some guy by saying I didn't know where "that street with the house" was. What makes this guy think couriers know the city? I'm not even sure what planet I'm on!

When the Internet started working, I tried to buy something for dinner. It took the terminal a long time to figure out how to pay, but Delivery was activated and finally passed. I checked on Junior - he was rushing around, wanting to complete a package of thirty deliveries for the day and collect a bonus. Judging by the reports, he is not cheating, but if I were him, I certainly would not admit it.

Finally, after the third sausage in the dough, the world became colorful and pleasant to the touch. Now I can think about the future, for example...

Beep.

Congratulations on getting to a new level!

A unique bonus is available to you - the night shift! All rewards x2, exciting quests and bonus points are waiting for you!

Thank you, dear Delivery, I don't need to work at night. Besides, if you pay twice as much, the dangers will be five times as much as the daytime.

Beep.

The night shift bonus applies to all active packages!

System, go to hell. For today it's enough the Hunt for me.

Beep.

The refusal button turned gray and became inactive.

The Labor Inspectorate is not working with you! Hmm, or is it work? Who should I ask about Sistema's social security? Ah, so that's why they introduced self-employment, now it all makes sense! The exploitation of the population by tentacles from other worlds!

However, it was already clear that I was not going anywhere. First of all, I was on the trail, and I didn't know how to get home. Secondly, the mood after the hunt had finally returned, and I had enough strength even for jokes. And of course, if something is offered to me so insistently, it must be impossible without it. If you call yourself a messenger, go where they tell you to go.

An exclusive rescue mission is available! Help a friend and he will help you!

I pulled a loser just once...

Yes.

Go to the other side of the street, try to walk so that the sun shines in your eyes.

I pulled the hood of the cape down, shielding myself from the light, and moved toward the increased bonus. How did Delivery get by without phones? Although fairy tales say it quite straightforward - a ball from Baba-Yaga itself will lead where you say, just have time to run after it. It should work even better than the phone: all attention is on the object, you don't notice the changing world around you, you don't strain yourself, and you don't embody the real world back.

And instead of Alice or Siri from the courier browser human voice prompt "do not sit on the stump, do not eat pie, the customer has already two times contacted by the plate with an apple!"

Checking showed that I was already level twelve. I went to Hunt on my own, so why did the System Level go up? Or was I used in the meantime? Dumb - if they gave me a bonus, then I did something there. I guess the point was to save the hounds. Or was it to keep them from shooting the priest?

I thought again about what I had seen today, and the mood crept down again. If Delivery comes into the world, it's a chance. And if Hunt comes, there's no chance, it's too harsh. My mind still shuts down when I think about the warranty.

So, where was I? Oh yeah - why is this continuation taking so long to come out? Did the author decide to change the plot again?

I followed the System's instructions while digging into my phone, not paying too much attention to my surroundings. I only noticed that it was getting dark too quickly.

The novelties of the King's Road did not please me in the least. The promotional tape was full of "Dark Killers" and "Bloody Magicians". Those fans of blackness! All they want terrible secrets and horrible rituals. And everyone knows from childhood that at the end of the first year any Hogwarts student could make a pineapple dance.

To make a pineapple dance or make a skeleton walk what is the fundamental difference?

Out of boredom, I went to the general chat room of Delivery and for the sake of entertainment created a thread:

Folks, who's met Death? How's the client, problematic?

I attached a deposit of six hundred and a limit of two responses to the thread.

What kind of death? Specify, there are many of them.

I don't recommend it, he's a creepy bore. And the voice in your head resonates unpleasantly. Get headphones or a soundhole.

There are ordered for a plan in the DnD-like setting, they are all "death" there, they dress up as a shadow in a balaclava with a scythe. Clients are so-so, they don't give tips as a matter of principle. They can grab you and eat you, I advise enhanced physical protection.

The prize is sent to the first three commenters - payment for their message and a hundred extra points, the third for a detailed answer another hundred points discounted. That's how I learned a little more about the world at the cost of an hour's work. And without all that necromancy.

However, even seeing the expended limit, my colleagues continued to spend money on chitchat, and I tossed in encouragement. So another three hundred points went away, and some really useful things were said.

Wait at the yellow bus stop.

Is it just me, or is the System playing for time?

I glanced at the little girl with the big red bows as she whizzed past on her scooter. The scanner showed that she imagined herself flying on a broomstick, with a ghostly cat sitting in front of her. Do students at magic academies moonlight as couriers? Hmm, or is it more correct to ask "do delivery couriers learn magic?" Why, when there are plenty of artifacts and potions?

I had to wait an hour. During that time, the day changed to evening, night fell, the traffic thinned, and I sat and stared around through the scanner, marveling at how many people with imagination were around. I also checked myself - I was clean, I didn't have anything. The yellow bus arrived almost at midnight and, according to the clue, I had until three o'clock to ride it. Wonderful, how could I go to the bathroom? Or does the warranty work here, too?

After sitting in a separate seat, I symbolically put on a mask as a sign of detachment from the world and turned on the music.

Ah, Grandpa's favorite. He keeps babbling about how singers used to be able to sing, but now they can't even say "hello" properly without a sound engineer.

An unfamiliar star is shining.

I looked out the window - yes, there is such a thing.

Again we are torn from home.

For two weeks now.

Again the cities between us.

Of different settings.

Airfield takeoff lights.

I even turned my head but there was no match.

The lines about fog and rain, fortunately, did not match either. I just didn't need the cold night rain at all.

Here intricate plots await on the uncharted path.

Um... could we not?

I listened to the rest of the song, then played it again. It seemed to have a theme - or is it just me? Now, at night, after a hard and hectic day, any tune would be in place.

You just have to learn to wait...

Well, I know how to do that.

You have to be calm and stubborn...

Exactly my point!

That sometimes from life to receive stingy telegrams of joy.

Hmm, was Telegram already working at that time? Not a very old song, it turns out. It's up-to-date.

Bleep.

Exit at the next stop.

The clock showed three and a half in the morning. The question was, who should I save if I had already been walking for ten hours to the one I had to save? It's been three hours in internal time, isn't it? Anyone can do it three times in that time...

"Hi... You got caught, too?"

I followed the bus with my eyes and turned to Goggle-kid:

"Did they recruit you for the rescue, too?"

Hero shook his head tiredly: "No, I'm the one who has to be rescued."

He was sitting on a park bench, not a soul around, except for some guy in a windbreaker standing outside a 24-hour kebab shop.

"What do you mean?"

"I got caught," he raked the messenger bag closer and nodded at the shawarma lover, "It's a demon."

Poke, poke... And just as I was getting ready to stomp away, I clarified: "What demon?"

Pointed my phone almost immediately I realized which one - it was flickering in the scanner. This one was real, not some "foggy" one. What was standing there with its finger along the price tag was not human. It was more like a warp of space, filled with gray mist. But take away the scanner and a simple man in his thirties.

"How did you end up here?"

Judging by the story, Goggle-kid needed more than anyone else. He decided to find out for himself how to banish the strangers. A complicated chain of reasoning led him to the "uncreated demon". He said that the demon didn't need any competitors, he would give him a tip on how to deal with the invasion.

Well, nature did not give man intelligence, just a tremendous amount of heroism. I clarified: "So you ordered the delivery for him in your own name?"

"Uhu."

"And System paved the trail for you?"

"Uhu."

"And you're such an idiot that you followed it?"

"Uhu."

Oh, this is not good. There was somehow too little life left in the Hero. He only nodded and agreed.

"How long have you been here? An hour, two hours?"

"I've been here three, maybe four weeks."

"You're kidding, I saw you the day before yesterday."

"You're the one who talked to me the day before yesterday, and I haven't seen you - much longer."

The "guy in the windbreaker" finally got his kebab and walked away. Goggle-kid, with obvious exertion, got up and followed on trembling legs, throwing a curse as he went: "Don't lag behind, or we'll have to look for him".

I threw the bag behind my back: "What will happen if I fall behind? Will it come back and bite?"

"There's nothing there. You are suspended in emptiness. Shadows and emptiness. There's nothing there."

Hero was staggering, and we walked fifty paces away from the demon, who was strolling quietly through the night city.

"Ok, what about the day?"

"There is no day. This is the Doomer, here morning will never come. If we stand back time stops. It has already stopped but there is movement beside him."

Goggle-kid dragged tiredly and adamantly, he even stopped noticing me, and only turned around and remembered who I was. I had to poke him and ask him questions. It turned out that this particular demon lived in its own reality, wrapped up in it. It is not morning here, the streets are always empty, and there is someone in the houses, but it is impossible to shout to them. And it is impossible to contact anyone because here all the time is spinning in circles a few minutes from dawn: for the inhabitants of the normal world, we are just a communication glitch, they do not have time to listen to us. We are now the same bastards who call at four in the morning and drop the call.

And time only works here alongside the demon. And if I step back, I'll hang in the void, sagging away only when the demon passes near me and its reality takes over me. Goggle-kid told it with weary indifference, quickening his stride to keep up with the figure ahead.

What would happen to those who met a demon and moved on without the cloak of Delivery, it was eerie to imagine.

Hero passed out again, pacing through the shire force, and I wondered how to save him. Judging from the fact that it's possible to come here by bus, it's not so bad. At the very least there are some connections to the main reality, and at the very least Delivery thinks it's possible to get Hero out. Or is this her way of getting rid of me so she doesn't have to pay bonuses? No, we're a useful piece of merchandise, and I'm even a pumped-up one. Level twelve is not a joke!

Communication did not work, or rather it worked strangely. On the same forum of couriers, messages were appearing and disappearing. The written messages were deleted, and even the likes went nowhere. I poked Hero who had fallen asleep in front of me, and he confirmed that it was impossible to communicate. The demon's domain was seconds away, sometimes extending to a minute - when the "guy in the windbreaker" stopped at a stall or went into a convenience store. But apparently, these "anchor points" were also somehow supported by the demon's power, or else he would have picked everything off the shelves in the eternally fleeting minutes.

The Doomer, as the Hero assumed, was not an evil demon. He could even postpone the sickness - lengthen it forever. Or give you immortality, if you're satisfied with an eternity of walking the empty streets in the company of a silent demon.

Indeed, if he was ever interested in communicating, it is long gone. Now and always here is the moment when he wants to be silent. The harmless type, if you're out there somewhere. Because he won't open the domain for you, and people who happen to be here simply melt away and dissolve. It's not a fact that he is as aware of the being as we are, so Goggles' attempts to learn something about the otherworldly's life were fruitless.

What am I supposed to do?

Trying to stay put was almost the worst experiment of my life. Goggle-kid first persuaded me to keep up, then he waved his hand and followed the demon, while I stood... I had enough sense to make the entrance point of the portal under the toe of my elevated foot, so when the world began to stop and fade, I just took a step. Then I took another step, and next to the hero, I could feel what it felt like. An edge hit me, but I didn't feel like it anymore. What would become of me there, in the timelessness, I would not find out. How did Goggle-kid manage to escape?

Shaking it off, I summed it up - we're not in the world, we're somewhere else. If the principle of unreal is the same, then around the Doomer there's something like the interiors that are formed when you create a trail for a courier, whose whole function is to allow me to get from here to there. Everything is real, but not quite. Real, but not the way we're used to it. Connected to our world, but not in every way. We're like an NPC in an isometric game - the demon player goes into various nooks and crannies, giving light and life, but what's beyond his sight? An eternity of immobility and unnecessary.

Asking to get us out of here is useless because no one will have time to react and create an order in Delivery at this second.

But since I was sent here, it means I can somehow... oh, right.

I pulled out my phone and opened the Skills tab. The dummy was active as usual. Now checking Junior's coordinates... the map works. Now tap "create a route." Done. All that's left is to find a way through the timelessness that surrounds the domain.

"Goggles, were you trying to make a trail?"

Hero gathered his thoughts for a minute, then nodded: "Yes, but all system resets and becomes inactive."

It makes sense, they are in the minute that has not yet come. The easiest and most reliable protection of your domain. But we are Delivery, we know how to go everywhere.

I threw off my bag without stopping, rummaging through it and pulling out the wand I'd brought out today. Theoretically, this thing destroys other people' disembodied. That is, the walls of the domain could be affected. The next two possibilities are that in order to save the domain, we might get hit, or we might get squeezed out. If the first option, we're dead. I'll keep my fingers crossed for the second one.

"Well, the flashlight's there, and I've got a trail," I checked again but the map showed a clear dotted line leading to Junior. "Are you ready to go?"

"What?"

"Are you ready to get out of here?"

Hero rubbed his eyes and then tiredly agreed: "Ready."

From the look of him, all he was ready to do was lie down and die. The problem. Okay, wait... I quickly dug through the settings to find the bag's "stats". Reduces weight... "yada yada... one-meter radius." I mean, you could also strap it to the outside. I don't have the right setting, in which a sizeless bag is an automatic death by asphyxiation in ten minutes. Okay, I'm carrying my hundred and forty, his fifty won't do much for me...

"Sixty-three, actually."

"Fatty."

"Who's to say."

Finally, he came back to life. It seems that Hero just now believed that I was not a death glitch.

"Give me your bag."

This one I hung from the front, then without hesitation I sat down, picked up Hero under the knees, and lifted him up:

"Squeeze to the bags!"

"I'm trying!"

"I can feel you trying! The weight is bouncing!"

"I did!"

"Wave goodbye to the host."

Maybe I should have just dispelled the demon. Yeah, and where would we be if his world lost its main supporting power? And I don't believe two couriers can handle This One.

"Let's go! Close your eyes just in case."

With my left hand, I held Goggles and at the same time, I held the phone, with my right... I shook the wand once, twice. The third time, it finally worked, glowing an unpleasantly white, illuminating light. Like Gandalf's staff in Moria.

Poke-poke-step.

It was hard.

The timelessness came at once, the light helped, but it didn't do all the work. Go yourself, courier, the way is paved, and you move your feet.

Poke-poke.

Semi-bent on my shoulder Goggles now weighed twenty kilograms but that weight was distributed around me in the most uncomfortable way. I was also able to get my hero to unclench something as it came out of the bag's range, and that was extra, unbalancing weight.

Poke-poke.

There was only darkness and nothing else around. Outside the circle of light from the wand, only shadows could be seen. What's sadder is that under that light, the shadows spread into a fog. And I had to put the mark, again and again, to step, and then to try the reality of the world with my foot.

"Are we there yet?"

Damn you!

"Soon!"

Poke-poke.

Not so much difficult as tedious. I was sweating like a hailstorm, "walking by the gauges," and staring at my phone which showed my supposed location. But no matter what happened the Delivery still agreed that we were moving somewhere.

"Stop!"

Poke-poke, step.

"Stop right there! We made it!"

The pink light of the rising sun... is there anything more pleasing to the eyes? The bespectacled guy I'd just thrown to the ground muttered something indignantly but I didn't listen. Just took off and dropped the hero's bag on his head. Then I checked the incoming message:

Congratulations! You have successfully completed the assignment!

And of course:

The special bonus has expired.

No freebies.

"We made it out."

Goggles sat on the sidewalk, hugging his bag, staring at the edge of the rising sun like I was staring at a batch of fried potatoes. He looked at the car as it drove by with such a look that he would have had to marry it.

"We got out. Hey, idiot, don't go in those holes again. I'm a messenger, but I don't go around demon domains! You don't take care of yourselves, man!"

I cursed softly because I had no energy left. The Delivery got its hero out of the mess with my hands - maybe even arranging with Hunt to provide me with a "flashlight," to begin with. But it wasn't easy.

Flopping down on the pavement beside me, I too looked at the rising sun: "Why did you go to the demon without magic gadgets?"

"Have you seen how much they cost?"

"I've seen and even bought something. What about you? Where are the artifacts, where is the protection, where is the pending rescue order?!"

It wouldn't have helped, it just wouldn't have had time to be read...

"Don't talk back to me! Why did you go there in the first place?"

"Why are you go there?"

"That's my job!"

"I have the same too."

We realized the stupidity of our swearing at the same time. It's morning in the city, two couriers are sitting on the sidewalk yelling at each other.

They gave me an order on you. Get you out, I mean. I've been there before. I've seen a lot of things in my time at Deliveries, but you fell right in line with the "how not to do it" manual!

The hero who reviving in front of my eyes cautiously clarified: "How long have you been in the System?"

After estimating, I stretched out: "It turns out that three days longer than you."

Then, as a senior colleague, I gently put his sagging jaw back. Hero tried to get up, but he had no strength. After poking at his phone, he stared at the sun again:

"Look, Marius, who are we, anyway?"

And this one, too.

I stood up with a groan, and tried to reach my back, which the bad man had hit several times while I was carrying him:

"We are idiots risking our lives for a small price. And the most frustrating thing is that no one forces us to do it."

Then I looked at the baton and held it out to him:

"Here, you will smite the impure with the flames of punishment. Just buy the manual. In any case, think before you rush off somewhere."

"Uh, thanks."

He stuffed the wand in his bag, then got into a cab and waved goodbye. He ordered business class, the spender. And I'll walk, anyway, the path led almost to the dormitory... There' a demon walks about half an hour from here, but I've got something like that snoring in my room. And when you think about it, I'm a miracle, too.

* * *

 

[RiP]

Chapter 24

* * *​

No matter what you say, doing nothing is great, but it's exhausting. Not everyone is able to do it.

Deciding that I had had enough of miracles and adventures, I decided to take a break.

In the morning, I sent Junior to work, to improve my trading skills, and fell back into bed and tried to sleep. It didn't work; with no computer, there was nothing to stop me from thinking about what was going on around me... and that was exactly what I didn't want to do. Usually, when you sit down in a cozy chair there are a thousand reasons not to live real life: videos, guides, comments. Of course, on the phone, it is also present but I was going to do nothing, right? And in my magic mirror, there are too many secrets, you open it and it will drag you away.

But what to do in a room where all the entertainment was just looking at a pile of junk and incomprehensible packages that my "second self" had dragged along? No, there is always the option of going out to eat. But after an hour I gave up because I could not eat anymore, and there was nothing to eat. I sighed, opened the Delivery app, and took a simple quest. Not for the sake of making money, but for a purpose in life. I needed to take up to two hours... Because it's only safe to get into Grandpa's house in the afternoon. More or less safe. No, he's not some monster, he's much worse - a man with strong principles! And those principles include the obligatory moralizing conversations with the only grandson, as soon as this grandson appears within reach.

In the afternoons, my grandfather works with texts, that is, he sits and makes up ideas about how people used to live in the old days. This process takes place in the office on the second floor, and the closet I need is on the first floor, and I will be able to get to it to take something... Whether my plan will work or not I'm not sure. If I believe my grandfather's lectures and my intuition, it should work. After all, everything around here is so delusional, why not?

You shouldn't go before lunchtime, because the venerable ancestor works with students. When I was young and foolish, I sometimes wandered into my grandfather's house in the morning, and it didn't end well... Last year he once quizzed me about ritual sacrifices in the culture of ancient peoples. I was not the only one, but a dozen of his students - we first killed chickens, then drew signs with their blood, and then burned them to please heaven.

Burning fresh meat?! Without even trying to marinate it?!

Even the dogs looked at my grandfather with reproach, not just us. I then rushed to my grandmother's pot of pies, while the students tasted only smoke to better understand the existence of the ancient deities. At least grandpa didn't make them starve and ritually purify themselves.

"Hello, Delivery..."

"Oh, I know you!"

The young woman looked at me with a smile. Actually, I was supposed to pick up an item here and take it to the buyer.

"You are the Happy Buddha!"

Actually, fame is already boring me. But what to do with the truth: "Yes, that's me."

The woman immediately interrupted: "Are you a practitioner of spiritual arts? I also try to do yoga and read the writings of the ancient Gurus... But how did you do it?"

Quickly going over in my mind all the things I had done in the last few days, I clarified: "What exactly?"

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, the client flicked her fingernails across the screen in a stunning rhythm and then turned to me. They were filming from somewhere overhead, and I could barely see my face. But it was definitely me. It must have been taken by someone who thought that the jackass who parked on the sidewalk was wrong. And now he had to take it off while I was testing the glove by moving my car!

Dejectedly watching the video I saw under it statements along the lines of "apparently, a former weightlifter, they quickly get fat, and the muscles are wow!" Then there was a long thread of discussions with expert opinions, which I scrolled through with increasing sadness. By about the 300th comment I had been given a heroic biography. Which I, an ordinary guy from the provinces, was a sportsman, dragging tractor tracks, but, having stood up for a girl, was injured and did not make the Olympic team. After that, I sold out everything to pay for the operation. The doctors tried, but something went wrong. However, I still have not lost my heart and now I work as a courier, at the same time restoring my form. At the same time, it turned out that I had been seen in three cities in the country and, for some reason, in Goa, where I had gone for Indian spiritual practices.

Well, maybe they saw me, how do I know where the Delivery trail will show me to people?

I was distracted from my thoughts by a customer who was patiently holding the phone in front of me: "You know, I try and I even seem to succeed, but not always. What is your secret? Such power!"

And what should I tell her? When I put the package in my bag, I looked at my client and said: "Diaphragm. It's all about proper breathing. Practice, you can do it. Not right away, but you will!"

The woman looked where my diaphragm should be and wondered. I did not say goodbye, though she tried to shout something in the back. It would seem that the usual philistine, but the System caught her, too - with what? Cooks for sale flower soap in a randomly bought at a flea market antique cauldron of a potionist?

Just in case, I scanned in all directions like in a horror shooter, but there were no unpleasant surprises. Only when I got on the bus did an ad pop up, "Download our app - all the hot witches are a mile away!" which I resolutely removed. I can find them without your aid.

Should I think about something important? I've noticed for a long time that as soon as one is distracted from earning one's livelihood, one begins to wonder about the meaning of life.

But what can I do, there are too many incomprehensible things in the System.

For example, what is this very "warranty"? The direct effect on...

"Can we take a picture with you?"

Playing with complacent pleasure, I posed with two pretty girls, who immediately jumped out of the bus. They were only interested in me as an excuse to take selfies, which was a shame...

So what am I talking about? For example, why do I need to choose a setting? Because here, in the main world, I do quests completely unrelated to it. And outside of it - both of my "rescue missions" weren't in dungeons with dragons at all. Just for the names of the upgrades and rewards? Or is there a way to connect to the "world-forming egregore"?

I couldn't think of anything good to say. I spat and focused on the latest prod of a lazy man, but as soon as I started reading, I was there. The quest was surprisingly simple, I only had to stand in the shade once, until the permit rang. Walking into the old garage cooperative I walked along with the shabby gates, stopped at the scanner-lit ones, and knocked three times loudly. Behind the door someone cursed loudly in surprise, something fell with a clang, and then the door opened and my age peeked out:

"What do you want?"

It smelled like a perfume store from the garage.

"Delivery, order number..."

"Uhu, give it there."

He immediately tore open the bundle he had received, pulled out the box, and opened it. Inside was a stack of perfume sticks.

"Thanks, have a nice day."

The door slammed shut and the deadbolt slammed from the other side. I listened just in case, but no one was calling for help, so I threw my bag behind me and headed for the exit. What was the point of this simple "B-rank quest"? Why send me specifically? What secrets are all these doors hiding?

Bleep.

A new quest?

After reading the description, I turned around and drove back. The second time I knocked on the same door, I felt sorry for my fists.

What the hell do you need?"

"Did you call?"

This time I got a closer look. He was a bit below average, with a slim build, with plain clothes, his hair disheveled, his eyes averted - a typical maniacal nerd, to cut a long story short. All the more so, he was busy with something suspicious in the garage. And some odor he needs to break!

Just in case, I set a teleport point and repeated: "A call came into the Delivery System. What needs to be sent and where?"

The silent man was silent for almost a minute, looking at me from head to toe, and then he clarified: "So you're the demon?"

"Watch what you're saying!"

I pushed him with my belly and entered the garage. I was in the garage, and everything was as it should be: a pentagram on the floor, and occult signs on the walls, from four different systems, if I had remembered my grandfather's lectures. Incense, too. So either he's trying to get the spark back into the carburetor, or he's summoning some otherworldly entity.

"You're serious. Why didn't you cut up the virgin?"

The client did not joke about the rarity of the ingredient. He walked around me, huddled against the walls, stopped at the workbench, picked up some printouts, and then began: "I conjure thee by the names of higher powers - obey! I have summoned thee in the day of judgment, and sacrifices have been offered, and words have been spoken..."

"Hey?"

He snapped, glanced at me angrily, and continued: "The words are spoken! Therefore execute the contract as it was spoken..."

"You should at least list the "names"! Who do you think I should be afraid of? Who's your protection?"

Nerd was silent and began to flip through his workpieces, dropping the sheets and cursing in a low voice. He did not find the necessary sheet, got upset, took out a bundle of beads, and began to mutter some pseudo-Shomeric nonsense, confusing gods and demons. I got bored and read the description of the quest:

"To pick up the box of necessities and deliver them to those in need at the exact place and time. Don't harm them, make sure they get it, report back one way or another - is that correct?"

The loser demonologist nodded.

"Where is the stuff?"

The box with the canister bolted on top was slightly larger than my bag. But it fit, of course, in its entirety and without any problems.

"Where should I take it?"

The guy silently handed me a piece of paper. The time... Damn, wow, I've never walked like that before. The place... even wower. And the recipient... wow.

With a respectful look at the romantic, I clarified: "Why do you need it?"

"Because it was not fair!"

I hummed and nodded respectfully. It's a stupid idea, but you can still feel the style. It's a pretty smart. I don't know what the System will take from him, but it's classy.

"Where do you want me to send you the report?"

I didn't say goodbye.

The quest trail started at the stop where I was supposed to wait for the signal. Maybe it's not just foot couriers at the Delivery? Some on horses, some on griffins... some on inconspicuous trucks.

No one was bothering me this time, I just sat there and mentally prepared to freeze. It would be cold out there, and the cape was unlined. All hope was that the trail would lead out at the right minute and I wouldn't have to wait long.

A woman and her dog sat down next to me. The little spaniel twitched in place, then sat down. He looked at the owner, but she was rummaging in her bag and did not answer the silent call. The dog suddenly jumped up, stared somewhere-I followed, then picked up the scanner. The girl's tail was twitching nervously about ten paces away. And her ears were flattened, clearly nervous.

"Toby, yuck!"

The spaniel sadly sat back down, but now and then he turned to the tailed girl. However, she was quickly picked up by a cab, after which the dog calmed down.

Are cats like that, too?

Get on the bus, and follow it to the shady street.

I got up and the dog jumped up, too. Dog tried to stand on me with his paws, but the owner tugged at the leash and grudgingly apologized.

Walk along the fence.

I was too lazy to think, it was my day off, so I gave myself to the trail. It seemed to be exactly what I needed because the descriptions immediately became more concrete and began to change more quickly. I had already habitually missed the moment when the chill from the back alley suddenly became icy, the white wall of the fence was replaced by an icy hummock. The snow crunched underfoot, the sky became a whitish haze, and the wind howled. It was freezing, man! Nothing under my pants, summer sneakers! System, have you thought this through?!

I wouldn't have found my destination without a clue. A minute or two later, the wind suddenly filled with snow, it got dark, and visibility dropped to ten, maybe fifteen meters. It was just like in the books...

I held the phone under my arm, with my head down and trying to shrink as much as possible. I pulled my hood as low as it would go. The heat instantly pulled out and something was left only inside. I could hardly feel my legs. The nastiest part was that I couldn't roll over without ordering it, either - they'd been like this for months, and I'd only been here five minutes! I had to get there. That's okay, I'll bear it.

Out of the darkness came the outline of the tent, covered with flying snow, and next to it, skis stuck in the snow and a snowdrift that had been a sled. Deciding that it would be too cruel to make the recipient look for the package, I dumped the box five paces from the entrance. A snowstorm immediately began to cover it with snow, and I crouched down and leaned back behind the sled, exposed to the wind. Well, what next? Throw something at the tent? Make a scary howl?

The trail was accurate, though.

Almost immediately a man came out of the tent, turned around, and said something to the others. I repeated to myself: "I'm going for a walk, I won't be back soon. He was not wearing boots or boots, and he was obviously not going far. I lurched five paces away and bent over, but the limping man didn't notice. He didn't seem to be feeling well at all. So bad, in fact, that he walked past the crate on the ground and moved on!

I jumped up, caught up with him without any kind of teleportation, turned him around by his shoulders, and then pushed him in the right direction. The polar explorer fell almost on the box, froze, and then gingerly fumbled for the object in front of him. And tried to look back!

Poke, poke, have a nice day!

With my icy fingers, I lifted the phone over the edge of the sled and began to film. There he was, incredulous, groping the box, awkwardly brushing the snow off it, tapping on the canister. Then he tries to lift it, but his legs fail him and he falls down. Finally, gaining strength, the man calls for help. Weakly, very weakly. The wind carried the words away, catching only "Captain... surprise..."

The same slow, haggard man looked out of the tent. He asked again.

I was filming this snail hustle without feeling my hands. If Delivery needs to get rid of me for something, all it takes is a quarter of an hour's delay in making a trail! Finally, all four of us gathered around the crate. The canister was unhooked, and with the sound of my teeth, I continued to film the polar explorers in a joyful half-whisper passing each other the glad tidings - full! They opened the box without taking it into the tent, just to protect it from the wind. Quiet cries of jubilation again, then tired ants dragged their loot into the tent.

The quiet man must have collected there both ointment for frostbitten feet and lemon juice for scurvy gums. Now they'll make it. They have to.

I put my phone down, sent the recording, and poked my icicle finger at the slider.

Order delivered.

Waiting...

Waiting...

Waiting...

Turn your back to the wind, and close your eyes. Walk fifty paces.

Whether the System understood my condition or not, the instructions were very specific. No expectations, I was constantly on the move. I even felt like the wind was pushing and holding me, but the cold made it impossible to think.

"You again! Look, I'm going to... uh, are you all right?"

I cautiously lowered myself onto the hot asphalt, lay on my side, and curled up in a ball. I was smart enough not to touch the hot asphalt with my blue hands, only I didn't have enough burns on my frostbite. But the heat that seeped under the cloak was enough for me.

"Dude? Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

I shook my head. The heat was painfully penetrating my body, but it was warm!

"Let me help you, huh? Here, get up. Come on!"

The roadworker cursed on his own but managed to lift me. I climbed up on my own, though I didn't want to leave the warm - hot! - place. But after all, I was on the road, it was no good lying here.

I sat thawing at the edge of the road for about twenty minutes and then stood up. Surprisingly, there were no "how did you end up covered in snow in the middle of summer?" Only offered to help, to call a car or something. I wanted to thank them, but I could only think of something simple:

"You have great asphalt. Thank you. Have a nice day."

And without listening to what they told me, I left, using a combination of invisibility and teleport.

There was no more talk of going to Grandpa's house. I was too cold on the trail. On the other hand, isn't that why I came back so quickly because I didn't have the strength to think? So you walk, looking around and disturbing the Delivery, and then you are back in minutes! All evil comes from thinking.

And they had been walking in this cold for weeks... and they didn't make it. Then they didn't. And now?

I sat down on the bench and pulled off my shoes and socks and wiggled my toes, surprised that I didn't hear a crunch. I'd been there for twenty minutes, too little for anything serious, but my toes still ached. Silent romantic... but smart one. It always seemed a shame that they couldn't. Only what about the story now? If they get saved, will there be two worlds? Or will there just be a Wiki article with their deaths and someone else with their celebration and afterlife?

More interesting is another thing: why did the System bring me there at this very moment? Why not a year earlier, what difference does it make how much pemmican and kerosene lie? Was it only a matter of what the customer had said? And why me - was there no one else at hand, or did the System know that the one leaving the tent would pass by?

And again - I was summoned as a demon... What's the meaning of this quest now? Or can any evil do good? I don't know.

Girl, hot sweet coffee. Two! No, three! Is the pastry warm? Warm it up! In fact - can I rent a bucket of hot water from you? For what, for my feet! No, I'm not laughing. I'm serious, honestly! Okay, I get it. Your service is not that good. Let's hurry up with the coffee, I'm freezing...

Why didn't I stay home today?!

* * *​

 

[RiP]

Chapter 25

* * *​

The next day I didn't even sneeze.

No, the infection does not stick to me, the thick layer of fat prevents it. Larna-chan was right to say - I'll be long enough in the cold mountains! By the way, what should I get her? A hoof file or horn polish? It's not that she doesn't take care of herself, but a girl should get gifts.

"Boss?"

"What?"

I think it was the first time I fell asleep before Junior. And nothing, I woke up in one piece.

"Yesterday I bought what you said - axes and machetes, a dozen spears. What else do you need today?"

Judging by his shuffling, he had plans for tonight. Is he pulling Tomboy on a date again? What did Daddy say on such occasions? Oh, come on, he so young: "I'll call you if I need anything. Maybe I'll spend the night in another world, I don't know yet."

What kind of things can a dummy do? Will he be celebrating his skill up? He got his trading up to level two yesterday, so there's a reason for that. I've got two big challenges today. First, since yesterday could not, will have to go to the dragon's lair in the morning. You never know, maybe I'll get through and take what I need, no problem... Or maybe I'll be brainwashed until the evening on the subject of "Family Honor and how not to lose it".

And the second is to solve the issue with the creators' orders. Take the skills from them, and then go back to the setting. That's anxious somehow, will not cheat mages? Or I overestimate the importance of the order? Maybe to hire guards? And of what, the adventurers against the mages will stand? Or ask the Trade Guild for guarantees? But they would probably ask for a share of the guards.

Tomorrow I'll go to the umruns - should I take them all at once? Shall I take one of them out first? Yes, I suppose so. It's a long way. I'll take one out and then I'll begin to think how to take all of them. Perhaps I should really hire a convoy of adventurers?

Of course, it was worth making a plan, and it all went very wrong.

Bleep.

I had to look up what it was that called me. Another tab appeared in the Delivery app, with a single voicemail message without a return number. Something tightened in a knot in my belly, and I clicked "play".

Cloudy... I feel the change. The wind says I'm going to leave home soon. I would have left long ago but I have nowhere and no reason to go. I'm used to being here, waiting for something. It has come, this something. I know what it means, I remember those for whom it has come, and I want you to know that my only regret is that I could not grow a beautiful flower for you.

I poked my finger again, missed, swore, poked again, and now the tab slid to the side, and when I swore and swiped back, there was no record. Message delivered, order closed.

Well.

Well-well.

The wind, then. Well, there's a lot connected with it in Delivery, as I've managed to figure out. That is, the System tapped into what was said, it is unclear what it took in payment. The words of farewell were delivered to me... Screw you! Let her say it to my eyes, we'll see about that!

Bleep.

This message was sent via private message through the forum: Marius, we have a problem. Big demons are trying to break into the circle, small ones are attacking in groups. We don't waste dew, we need help!

Putting the phone down, I sighed. A train dilemma, huh? Dear System, your tentacle case?! One or a hundred-plus? The one who has been tormented for centuries or the one who still remembers how to be alive?

I put the phone in my pocket and started to pack. There was not much choice... Just ten minutes ago there was a great plan and everything is clear, no complications, just a lot of walking and talking. Everything is solvable! And now... whom to sacrifice? One might, of course, think "hey, nothing has happened yet, the problems have just begun!" Except I know where I work.

The bag, loaded with gaffes, axes, and machetes, became noticeably heavier. The cape is fine, the rings are charged... ah yes. I reached into my bag and pulled a scroll out of my pocket. I thought it would come in handy as a test to see if Umruns could learn, but it turned out to be a quest item. You know, like in the games, when you carry some gaunt splinter from the sandbox, and then it turns out that it's the one that opens the Dragon's treasury.

Skill Scroll - Spear, 3 Lv.

Contains the "spear" skill and the "Precision Strike" 3 Lv.

From the description, it allowed me to strike a critical blow every two minutes exactly where I was aiming. Activator... It's like an anime, damn it. All right, that'll do. I could use anything right now.

Study.

The scroll scattered instantly disappeared ashes, that's it.

It took me almost a minute to figure out how I'd changed. Then I took one of the staff out of my bag and tried it on. Well... ...mentally I know I couldn't do it before but it was strange to realize it, because... what's so hard about it?

I swung the staff in my hands and made a few quick lunges in different directions, then tried it on, but after estimating what the "critical damage" to the wall might be, I decided not to take any chances. It was a strange feeling, to realize that just now I, like a fool, was not able to do such elementary things. It's easy!

I spit on the economy and ordered a cab. There was no way I was going to get away with one pole, not even if the umruns supported me, because a demon was the last thing I wanted to do in close combat. I've seen what happens when they claw me, which means I have to go to my grandfather.

The cottage village was old, and academic, with high fences and large trees.

Poke-poke.

A branch creaked beneath me, and I clutched at the trunk with my hands while I looked around. So, two dogs on the porch, one in the grass, walking across the yard would kill me. They're going to start licking me. That would be all right, but they would whine and bark, and that's a shame. From here you can not see the first-floor window, put there an exit point is dangerous, there is little that hides in the depths, and the fourth dog is not observed.

After running through the sequence of actions in my head, I sighed and began to act.

Poke, poke - the exit is on the roof of the garage, the dogs jump up and wag their tails.

"Have a good day!" I said, activating imperceptibility.

Poke, poke, I'm in the house. Wow, what smells, it's clear right away that Grandma came! Don't get distracted! Listen carefully.

"Who is there?"

A voice from the second floor! The way was open - I forgot about the teleporter and on my toes, slipped quietly past the library, peeked into my grandfather's office as I went, then jumped up with a quiet squeal... The big white dog poked his cold nose into my side, as usual, managing to hit the only place not covered by clothes. I waved my fist at him, to which "Faithful" majestically paid no attention.

"Marius, is it you?"

I'm not there!

Poke, poke... Here are the closets with the collection. Where is it? Yeah, here it is... I shoved the loot in my sinus and fluttered about. The grandfather had already managed to come down and judging by his footsteps was a few meters away!

"Marius Julius... Ugh, let me go! Ugh!"

I was saved by "Faithful". He got up on his hind legs and put his front ones on my grandfather's shoulders. I saw the white wagging tail, but the venerable ancestor did not have time to take exactly one step to see me and catch me red-handed. And while the dog was licking his ward's cheeks I had time to aim. Poke, poke, poke, poke, poke... It was only outside that I exhaled. Yes, I'm certainly a bastard and a creep, but I do not have time for another conversation about the fate of the world and the duties of posterity. I'll save everybody and then I'll give up. Oh, what's in store for me for ruining the collection! How about buying back some rarities in the magical world?

My thoughts were confused by the adrenaline, but I somehow figured out that the trail could start from here.

Deliveries app, forum, private messages... order conversion. Minute wait, confirmation rang and the text of the quest appeared: Walk barefoot on the side of the road.

With my sneakers in hand, I stood in the warm, sun-warm grass and took the first step toward trouble. Courageous and determined. After all, who doesn't want to be a hero?

Well, lots of people do, but I certainly don't want to. My dad says that I'm just overeager. Our generation has too many choices. It's frightening, and that's why we are drawn to cling to one thing and pretend that this is exactly what we wanted. Everything was different with them - 10 miles to school in the cold without flannel boots and a computer on paper charts... Yes, yes, it was a hard childhood, cell phones with buttons, they were grasping at everything at once, just to get something. Maybe that's why they got it.

And I don't want to. Why do I keep getting thrown into some kind of trouble? Is it just the title of "messenger"?

Turn at the black rock between the two moons.

The more I adventure, the more difficult my quests become. So I have to think about how to do everything quietly, calmly, and without violating the laws of nature.

Although... "can't tame these lions inside".

No, I'd rather do everything normally and as an adult. Especially since it's not worth it to become famous in Delivery. I've heard the story about the demons from that game being incarnate... But if someone is created, their existence has a purpose, a beginning, and an end. Then demons are aimlessness and the resulting bad habits. I wonder if it is possible to give a demon a purpose for existence and thereby reborn it into something useful.

Some thought scratched at the edge of my memory... something to do with the umruns... "He turned out to be decent, he didn't bring anything, so he ran out," the Inspector told me, once upon a time, a week ago. So the unreal is the road to immortality if you take something from it. What can be taken from the chaos of disembodied? I don't know. No time to think, I have to hurry.

I went out into the wasteland, not even paying attention to the heat. Yesterday the cold, today the heat - it's all bullshit, just the job. A familiar circle of menhirs, a small figure standing on one of them, waving. Noticed? Warning?

I looked around - indeed, there were small flocks of small, knee-high creatures all around. The scanner didn't detect it. Far away, but nothing good. You don't have to be huge and strong to attack in a pack and tear apart.

The sentry waved her handkerchief and shouted something, and when she realized I could see her, she started waving somewhere in the direction. There didn't seem to be any time - I sped up sharply, wasting teleport charges. Poke, poke, poke, poke... The umruns fussed over one menhir that was suspiciously tilted and seemed to be trying to put it back up. A hundred paces away, three big, horse-sized - brrr! - the size of demons. Something so absurd, wiry and muscular at the same time, gray and fuming.

"Marius! Over here!"

In two jumps I was in the crowd, immediately surrounded. They were like living people, yelling and demanding something, interrupting me, and waving their arms. After walking through the crowd, I found myself standing next to the Professor.

"What have we got wrong?"

"They got two of us! They attacked at dawn, and while we fought off the petty crooks, the three of them fell the stone and entered the circle. They are not comfortable here so far, and quickly retreated. But I fear they may attack again."

It's bad. Demons are obviously intelligent enough for such a plan. Maybe not as a human, but they were familiar with concepts like "deceptive maneuvering". Okay, now I know why I was whining all the way here. They wouldn't let us out without a fight, and there was no one else to fight except me. The Urmruns are not, in any way, a unit, nor are they special forces, but ordinary civilians. To meet a bear in the woods, even if you have a knife, what is the prognosis? And here, even if he fights back, there is no ambulance, no reliable shelter. Maybe the unreal will start to change somehow, but when will it happen? We will be eaten sooner.

I threw off my bag, took out the spear, and checked my equipment. Teleport ring - a hundred and fifty charges. Glove - charged. Spear - sharp.

"Marius, perhaps it makes sense to call someone for help?"

Does it make sense? Judging by the two dozen packs of little demons, we'd be eaten sooner. So there's no point. Delivery sent me here for a reason, didn't it? There aren't enough heroes around to send them to help everyone in need.

And without answering, I set the portal, and then I stepped toward the demons.

They jumped up excitedly and rushed to the food. To me, in other words.

It cannot be confused with a living animal even at night - there are no cheeks, only fangs, there are some gaps in the paws, there is skin in some places, and bare muscles in others. Fangs and claws, which is good, because their presence suggests some habitual tactics. And any habit can be taken advantage of.

Okay, I need them to chase me on the run.

Poke-poke.

One of the demons started to accelerate, clearly intent on knocking me down but he stepped out of the teleport behind the slower one and knocked him off his feet. A moment's confusion, was followed by a growl, and all three of them lunged for me at once.

Poke-poke.

I turned - the demons were picking up speed. Twenty paces away, rocks, aiming more accurately... poke, poke, poke...

Three hard blows, I'd smile, but somehow I don't have the breath. Adjust, poke, go behind the back of a demon stunned by the collision:

"A precision strike!"

The tip of the spear entered the back of the creature's head, breaking the bone.

My greatest fear was that the demon would bleed. That it would squeal and all that stuff that happens in real life. But the misty flesh only let out a cloud of smoke and slimy sludge where the spear had struck, and the demon hissed, recoiling. The blow that tore off a third of its head did not stop the demon, but it started moving unsteadily. And the wound seemed to be starting to heal.

Poke-poke.

The creatures gathered into a single fist and slowly retreated. They didn't look puzzled, and they moved more cautiously. So, to summarize, I can't kill them. I can ask my colleagues in the forum, but one spear and teleport are not enough. Yes, once every two minutes I can catch them and cause increased damage... So what? I can already see that the smaller ones have begun to flock to the trio of big ones, encircling them in a protective ring. A dozen bites to the legs would be enough to render me incapacitated. There are a hundred umruns, but they are not Spanish Tertia, mere civilians with sticks.

"Well? Can you handle it?"

The umrun Alex was standing next to me, clutching his machete. The others crowded in behind him, looking at me with a casual, impassioned eye.

"I can pass by, but I can take you out... It's a lot of demons, and I'm not an Archcourier after all."

"I see," he wasn't happy, but he didn't make a scene. "Why are you shining?"

I brushed him off:

Remaining radiation from an artifact.

"Oh, I see... I just thought it was your job requirement."

Umruns smiled. Joker, damn...

"Okay, it's time for the last chance. Did you collect the water?"

The water of life, as it turned out, was almost half a liter. Isn't that why they are so quiet, because they didn't keep anything for themselves?

Taking the bottle, I once again checked where the demons were sitting, noting with displeasure that the trifle was indeed gathering in a guard circle.

"Everybody turn away! Don't even look in my direction!"

The thing I had robbed the venerable ancestor of was very much in my hand. Indeed, with the heat all around, my brain melting, and a bottle of moisture in my hand, how could a mug be out of place? It was a soldier's, aluminum, with "42y Tere" scratched on the side, and the rest was indecipherable.

I swallowed my saliva, made sure no one was peeking, closed my eyes, exhaled, and then poured the mug of water of life to the brim and placed it on the stone and turned away.

"Sol... Ahem. Soldier, would you drink some cold water?"

Silence.

And then the mug creaked with the bottom on the stone, someone sipped noisily: "Thanks a lot, bro... It's so hot my brain is melting."

Wow, it worked.

"Hey, leave some to the others!"

"Yeah, I know, don't worry."

It was a little scary to look around. The silence of the baking poured out gradually as the mug was passed from hand to hand.

"Tereshchenko, report losses!"

"Comrade Lieutenant, everyone seems to be here."

"What kind of answer is that - 'seems'?! Teach you, teach you... Give Panin a drink, he's already transparent from the heat."

"I'm fine, I'm a little tired."

I turned around.

The search party, led by my grandfather, found the place of the last battle of the hastily formed unit according to old documents. And grandfather had been excavating there for two years. Apparently, the mug belonged to this young kid, even younger than me. "Tere" must have been the first letters of his surname, he just didn't have time to scratch out the rest back then. So, what should I tell them now?

Professor, not surprisingly, got his bearings before I did:

"Comrades! I am a military doctor of the first rank of the reserve, we are stuck with a group of evacuees, please help! If you have wounded, we can take care of them."

"We'll help you, Comrade Military Doctor, just let us figure it out..."

I glanced at the mug handed around the circle by the soldiers in their dusty uniforms. They drank carefully, half a sip at a time, but they had enough. Some of them were hardly aware of the ghostly hands they were dragging. That's all right, they had enough water of life for a day... and then on to the next world. Much more interesting was that together with the shadows of the fallen horses, carts, and a machine gun lowered to the dry ground were pouring with colors.

Grandpa would kill me, it was his favorite mug in the collection. Well, that was begging for it, wasn't it? Not everybody's lucky enough to be in the circle. And the undead must be wandering around here somewhere. And how do you summon them, if not by making offerings to the shadows?

Damn, I managed to hit my back again, it hurts like hell. And there's so much to do.

A shot bangs out.

"Ivashov?!"

"Comrade Lieutenant, the wolves have grown impudent! I scared them off. I don't like wolves, ever since I was a kid."

In the steppe, we could see the swiftly retreating streaks of mist. The demons obviously didn't like the firearms. I'm not sure about that, but the cannon has finally shown itself, and you can catch a dragon that isn't very strong with it, either.

The next hours were sort of as bad as the fight with the demons. First, his stubbornness had come back to life along with the non-young lieutenant. He was even a little distrustful of the "Comrade Military Doctor of the First Rank", and he looked at the glowing me as a "cleric abomination" and demanded to "stop breaking the light camouflage". I couldn't because even after removing the glove I did not stop glowing.

Then he didn't want to believe for a long time that he couldn't get to his destination from here. I had to hint for a long time that there was no sun here, but there was plenty of light and heat. However, he quickly put the Umruns to work, put some on carts, and the rest went along with the soldiers.

So we walked back up the trail, stretching into an ugly long caravan. Miraculously, we didn't meet anyone dangerous, and a dozen demons were dealt with faster than I realized. The soldiers' shadows considered their rifles a reliable weapon against all manner of evil, and so it worked.

When we arrived at the gate of the city I knew, I finally took off my glove, glowed a little more, and then turned it off.

The new problems started here: first, they wouldn't let the whole crowd into the city, then they demanded a visitor's fee of unimaginable size... Mira came out of nowhere, waving papers and saying that it was her squad and her employer was waiting. I just sat back and watched as everything is done without me for some reason. The travel documents were written out, lists were compiled, and the lieutenant was persuaded - it's a miracle of miracles. Came running some monks, sprinkled holy water, prayed, took a fee, and promised that for at least another week, no one will not disappear And if we find a place with the appropriate magic, then we can live. Larna, who turned out to be a paladin of some neutral-good god, took it upon herself to beat a blessing out of her divine patron for everyone.

And I came to my senses and thought.

The girl in the circle of stones, feeling the end approaching. What should I do? Ask the children of the world to clap their hands so she doesn't die. That only works in fairy tales; in life, you have to do everything yourself. I need to get to the circle without the trail. How? What do I have for that? The system doesn't give a trail, I've already tried, how to talk to the wind I don't know. I could set a hunter on it, follow it, and when it comes to the circle, shoot it. Not a good plan. It would be a backup.

What else - is it safe to ask about her on the forum? There are quite a lot of people willing to get a flower; I don't believe that all my colleagues are exceptionally decent people or anything else. Skills? Buy something to track? Granted. The time is toward evening... Maybe one of the demons can guide me? I'll pay later, I got to do what I can first...

Bleep.

The voice message was again without the sender's name.

I clenched my fists and sighed. I didn't want that to be her last word.

"Cloudy... I'm so glad! The Old One has come! Now I have two whole friends again! He's figured out a way for us to go into the land where everything is green! I'll be able to grow new trees, they're already calling me. Cloudy, for some reason Old isn't happy that I thought of you. Don't be offended, okay? I don't want you to kill each other. But I remember about the flower! It's going to be very, very pretty!"

What?

What the...

Bleep.

This time the message was a text message:

You're not getting another slave, you fat freak.

I covered my face with my hand and tried to hold back a chuckle, then chuckled.

That was a shame - I'm not a fat freak at all! I'm handsome!

But very, very stupid.

* * *​

Spoiler

If you don't understand what happened. The hero rescued Grey's courier from the trap and joked that he had slaves. Gray is an old acquaintance of the Girl and has been working to bail her out for a long time. He saved her. She told him about the Fatty. Well, the latter decided that Fatty wanted another slave girl.

A parcel in the snow was sent to the members of some unsuccessful expedition to the North Pole.

 

[RiP]

Chapter 26

* * *​

It has been said to the fool - don't tattle on the trail!

The staff sage was saying, explaining the safety rules!

What about me? How did I blurt out, "System, save the girl"? And what did I promise in return? And I chose what kind of setting - with magic! And what's the formula for magic? A thought, a gesture, and a word, man!

Gray is the Old One, the girl and I look alike. We give everyone nicknames. And I was joking about "slaves" in his presence, and how did he know I was such a joker? He took that at face value and rushed to the rescue. Although I'll kick his ass for the "freak" on occasion! Why wait, though? Does Delivery take orders for broken legs?

Still gigling, I got up from the pebble and looked at the commotion. The Umruns looked almost like humans, just a little smoky in the scanner. Stuffed while they stomped through the unreal. But they're going into the wilderness anyway, there's a miracle of more, less, no one will notice. The men of the Composite Squad were not much different from the living, either, though they reeked of smoke much more strongly. I did what I could for them, and then they were on their own. They had weapons. The rules would be explained to them. Maybe they'll make some kind of Soviet Magic Republic.

But without me.

I blurted out that I was willing to pay for the help without bargaining, and I would even make peace with my father... And exactly after that, I was given a quest to save the Grey-Old One. Who took care of the rescue. He may be for this and in that vortex of power went. Delivery took the order and began to work it, opening the trail and putting the Courier on it. And I, in order not to be distracted from the minutiae of life and not to spoil the script, was planted with trinkets and occupied with all sorts of small things, away. That's me - the famous Happy Courier, the savior, and the winner! It's worth it to give an Achievement or two in time so that while you're bragging and proud, someone did the credit... Too bad there's only one way I can make peace with my dad.

Anyway, I'm going home, because I'm fed up with all this - the miracles, the problems, the unsettled life.

Bleep.

I picked up the phone without even looking to see who it was. Who else could get through to the other world?

"Yes, Mom? No, it's okay. It's nothing special, it's just a routine. Mom, I'm going home now... Yeah, I've had a lot of fun. Prepare your father mentally, so he doesn't jump to the ceiling with happiness. Yeah, I'll be home soon, for sure, just finishing up a few things."

The nervous giggling wouldn't go away, so I tried to get it over with as quickly as possible. I waved at the departing caravan, then caught up and gave the rest of the water of life they would need, and waved again. Ran through the city, distributing debts and collecting orders. Stopped by the Trade Guild, leaving instructions. Went to the Mage's Guild, negotiated changes to the contract.

And only after finishing all this I staggered home.

The familiar business center, the jump through the glass, the surprised faces of the creators sitting around the table with the sliced cake. I was also offered one, but I had no appetite at all, so I unpacked the orders and began to explain:

"Here, man," I handed the guy a round piece of wood on a string. "This is a Dream Amulet, which was kissed by all-female adventurers of a small Guild of Adventurers: put it on at night, and one, random, you will dream. Not a glitch, but a real one will come to you in your dreams. You have to negotiate with them yourself there but keep in mind that they are different. I can't think of anything more interesting, I'm sorry."

"Man, you are just... You have such an imagination!"

"To you," I handed the girl, "the Talisman of Hue. I don't know how it works but if you put it on yourself, people around you will only notice your most positive trait. Positive to them. But don't be surprised if it turns out to be something unexpected."

"Interesting," she took it apprehensively, but immediately jumped up and started twirling in front of the mirror.

"Yeah, you have to recharge it once a month. Either create an artifactor skill for yourself or call a courier from Delivery and let him take it to the wizard for charging. So, I gave you healpots, now you, kid - the System does not approve of Intelligence Boosters in our world. So here's the "Mirror of Truth", or rather a fragment of it. The whole thing is obscenely expensive, even for you. I don't know how it works but according to the description, it allows you to look at a problem from a different angle. Careful, it hits you on the brain!"

"Okay, that's fine."

While I was rummaging through my bag, "Stick-in-the-ass" start staring at the computers through his monocle. I guess my warning goes for nothing he was already frozen.

"Here's yours," I handed the box to Oleg and warned him: "Careful, in the world where I brought it from, it is a combat artifact from the gray list, with all that it implies. For it on the spot will not cut, but look askew. Order a guide on the forum, do not use it for fun, and in general - it's not a joke!"

He nodded but twisted the box in his fingers doubtfully. By the way, why did I remember his name so quickly? He must be the main character of the next season. But that wasn't up to me.

Finally, the System acknowledged that I had fulfilled my part of the agreement, and a new tab opened in the app. As agreed, a hundred and thirty third-level skills had been translated, all with techniques. Now all that remained was to arrange their delivery, but that was no problem...

"Well, dear Creators, it was a pleasure to meet you... have a good day."

Poke, poke, and I'm on the street.

Long farewells are unnecessary tears.

"Junior."

"Boss?"

"In ten minutes at the dorm."

"Yes, Boss."

Judging by his intonation, I distracted him, but it's late, and he still needs to make it.

"So..." I looked at myself-with-a-nut-in-a-head. Junior looked dumb and devoted, just like I would if I were him. "Give me the phone."

It took me less than a minute to transfer the skills. Then I created an order for delivery to the Mage Guild through the forum, poked at the confirmation myself, and returned the phone to Junior:

"You leave this world for another. There you will fulfill the order, you will distribute the skills to the umruns, who are cared for by the adventurers of Mira and Larna."

While I was explaining point by point what to do, Junior nodded in time and only clarified:

"How do I get back here?"

"You don't. You stay there, and when the colonists settle in, you can live your life."

He rubbed his chin and suddenly asked an unexpected question: "Boss... What's my name then? And then what should I do?"

Good question. I'm not going to make anything up, clever people determined long ago: "You are a kind of younger relative and a freedman by status. I mean... Go on, Marius Julius Nuncio Junior. I've installed the Trade Guild app for you, and I've given you my account, so try to get up to platinum rank. All debts and all profits are now yours alone."

He nodded silently and began to pack. Should I leave my bag and my cape? For what? I took them off, put them in the closet, then took out the familiar case, put the rings in it, and put them in the same place. I put the notebook under the bag, looked around for goodbye, and went out.

Already outside, when Junior busily adjusted his cloak and walked away, I asked: "When did you figure out how to get rid of me?"

He stopped: "Well... the next morning, boss. Why?"

Huh. such a dumbass.

"Nothing. Go."

I was afraid to sleep next to him for a reason. I know myself, and he's practically me.

Only not so charming.

A wide back in a cape flashed among passersby, farther and farther away, and then it was covered by a passing car... Well, now there would probably be another meme: "The happy fat man disappears before the eyes of witnesses". Why did the System need this? Hell if I know. Not really interested.

Bleep.

What else?

To close your work account, go to the registration room.

It was evening, and I was walking through the city without the usual weight of the bag on my back. Without the magic rings, without the cloak that shielded me from the curses of the unreal - just naked, honestly! But the rating on the appendix was only "B-7".

If you see this sign...

"May I?"

"Y-yes..."

"Hello, Goggles."

I sat down in the visitor's chair, and Hero, who greeted me with his wand raised to attack me, nervously adjusted his glasses and said:

"Look, but that's not fair! You've done so much, and they make an order?! For me, on you?!"

And for sure for a minimum price, because there's nothing to go.

"Calm down. I'm quitting, and you've been sent to clean up the clogging on the trails. Get back to work, they're waiting for me at home."

He bit his lip and set the wand to minimum power and began to shine, controlling with the scanner:

"Thanks for the Reset! It was a great help yesterday!"

Reset... Oh, right.

"Sure. Use it. What was that all about?"

"You saw it yourself, didn't you?"

So Junior replaced me in this as well?

But it turned out that all the fuss was because of one smart guy who decided to sleep in the wrong place at the wrong time. So his dreams made all sorts of things come out. It's a shame Abstinent really got eaten, though. But I already know that death is not always the end.

"Screw it!"

"What?"

Goggles, still looking at me in the scanner, shook his head: "Nothing. All good."

"Well, bye then."

I waved goodbye and went out, looking above the door. No signs, no one was waiting for me, no one needed me without my talents. Nice!

Where there had recently been a passageway to the seventh hall, there was now just a wall. A solid, brick wall. I picked up my phone and scanned it - a translucent curtain. Well, that' better, because if you can't see demons, yadda, fa-fa, and all that. I'm about to walk out of the hall where the goat-faced deliverymen are radiating, and the app will turn off. Just like the first day.

I walked to the cab with confidence, stamping my footsteps. A man should not walk with his head hanging down! I will look forward without looking back.

Looking out the window at the flashing city, I tried to imagine what I was going to do now. My dad threw me out in the cold... Okay, in the heat to keep me busy. And what was the result? I actually found a business that I liked. I mean, Daddy did again what I can't stand him for! I mean, he was right.

I'll never forgive.

Maybe I should go into GameDev? But I don't think we know anyone in that field, and I don't want to start out as anything less than a department head. It's understandable that I won't make much work there either, but at least I'll keep my self-respect. Being kicked out of the internship and fired from the post of deputy director - there is a difference! Well, and a line on my resume is not superfluous.

At the sad squeak the Delivery app became unavailable, then blinked and activated again. That's how I can track a place with an unreal. The city will be constantly beeping, there are hundreds of goat-footed people, and there are all sorts of other things. The same pharmacy with a cosplayer is not in sight, but a little to the side, albeit on a short trail. It's not like there's any of them. It's radiating unreal, but it's hard to find it.

Eh... Sometimes you're eating cookies, and there's less and less of them, and you think, "Here's the penultimate one, so you've got to enjoy the next one". You reach into the box and it's empty. You just ate the last one and you can't enjoy it anymore. I'm in the same mood right now. That's right, it's okay, I had a great time, I helped people. The non-humans, too. Something started, maybe even good, thanks to me. But...

But the last cookie will be enjoyed by someone else.

It is a pity that some mysteries remain unsolved.

Why, why do I have to put the nose to confirmation?!

Familiar gates, familiar doors, time to get ready for battle. Daddy will probably want to throw me into the thick of it so I can smell the real life! I'll try to call my mother as an arbiter. Maneuver and dodge so I don't end up locked up in the most boring office for a year! I'm going to need a lot of...

Bleep.

Oh, did they order delivery from the restaurant for my return?

Still holding the phone in my hand, I opened the door and stopped.

My parents looked at me tensely and distrustfully.

And no courier...

Automatically picking up my phone, I quickly flipped through the app to the scanner.

"Mom."

Canoness of the Sorority of the Faithful, 77 Lv.

"Dad."

Primipil of the Third Italian Legion, 81 Lv.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

I looked at them again through the scanner.

For example - why don't I have wings?

What am I, adopted?!

* * *

Chapter 26

* * *

It has been said to the fool - don't tattle on the trail!

The staff sage was saying, explaining the safety rules!

What about me? How did I blurt out, "System, save the girl"? And what did I promise in return? And I chose what kind of setting - with magic! And what's the formula for magic? A thought, a gesture, and a word, man!

Gray is the Old One, the girl and I look alike. We give everyone nicknames. And I was joking about "slaves" in his presence, and how did he know I was such a joker? He took that at face value and rushed to the rescue. Although I'll kick his ass for the "freak" on occasion! Why wait, though? Does Delivery take orders for broken legs?

Still gigling, I got up from the pebble and looked at the commotion. The Umruns looked almost like humans, just a little smoky in the scanner. Stuffed while they stomped through the unreal. But they're going into the wilderness anyway, there's a miracle of more, less, no one will notice. The men of the Composite Squad were not much different from the living, either, though they reeked of smoke much more strongly. I did what I could for them, and then they were on their own. They had weapons. The rules would be explained to them. Maybe they'll make some kind of Soviet Magic Republic.

But without me.

I blurted out that I was willing to pay for the help without bargaining, and I would even make peace with my father... And exactly after that, I was given a quest to save the Grey-Old One. Who took care of the rescue. He may be for this and in that vortex of power went. Delivery took the order and began to work it, opening the trail and putting the Courier on it. And I, in order not to be distracted from the minutiae of life and not to spoil the script, was planted with trinkets and occupied with all sorts of small things, away. That's me - the famous Happy Courier, the savior, and the winner! It's worth it to give an Achievement or two in time so that while you're bragging and proud, someone did the credit... Too bad there's only one way I can make peace with my dad.

Anyway, I'm going home, because I'm fed up with all this - the miracles, the problems, the unsettled life.

Bleep.

I picked up the phone without even looking to see who it was. Who else could get through to the other world?

"Yes, Mom? No, it's okay. It's nothing special, it's just a routine. Mom, I'm going home now... Yeah, I've had a lot of fun. Prepare your father mentally, so he doesn't jump to the ceiling with happiness. Yeah, I'll be home soon, for sure, just finishing up a few things."

The nervous giggling wouldn't go away, so I tried to get it over with as quickly as possible. I waved at the departing caravan, then caught up and gave the rest of the water of life they would need, and waved again. Ran through the city, distributing debts and collecting orders. Stopped by the Trade Guild, leaving instructions. Went to the Mage's Guild, negotiated changes to the contract.

And only after finishing all this I staggered home.

The familiar business center, the jump through the glass, the surprised faces of the creators sitting around the table with the sliced cake. I was also offered one, but I had no appetite at all, so I unpacked the orders and began to explain:

"Here, man," I handed the guy a round piece of wood on a string. "This is a Dream Amulet, which was kissed by all-female adventurers of a small Guild of Adventurers: put it on at night, and one, random, you will dream. Not a glitch, but a real one will come to you in your dreams. You have to negotiate with them yourself there but keep in mind that they are different. I can't think of anything more interesting, I'm sorry."

"Man, you are just... You have such an imagination!"

"To you," I handed the girl, "the Talisman of Hue. I don't know how it works but if you put it on yourself, people around you will only notice your most positive trait. Positive to them. But don't be surprised if it turns out to be something unexpected."

"Interesting," she took it apprehensively, but immediately jumped up and started twirling in front of the mirror.

"Yeah, you have to recharge it once a month. Either create an artifactor skill for yourself or call a courier from Delivery and let him take it to the wizard for charging. So, I gave you healpots, now you, kid - the System does not approve of Intelligence Boosters in our world. So here's the "Mirror of Truth", or rather a fragment of it. The whole thing is obscenely expensive, even for you. I don't know how it works but according to the description, it allows you to look at a problem from a different angle. Careful, it hits you on the brain!"

"Okay, that's fine."

While I was rummaging through my bag, "Stick-in-the-ass" start staring at the computers through his monocle. I guess my warning goes for nothing he was already frozen.

"Here's yours," I handed the box to Oleg and warned him: "Careful, in the world where I brought it from, it is a combat artifact from the gray list, with all that it implies. For it on the spot will not cut, but look askew. Order a guide on the forum, do not use it for fun, and in general - it's not a joke!"

He nodded but twisted the box in his fingers doubtfully. By the way, why did I remember his name so quickly? He must be the main character of the next season. But that wasn't up to me.

Finally, the System acknowledged that I had fulfilled my part of the agreement, and a new tab opened in the app. As agreed, a hundred and thirty third-level skills had been translated, all with techniques. Now all that remained was to arrange their delivery, but that was no problem...

"Well, dear Creators, it was a pleasure to meet you... have a good day."

Poke, poke, and I'm on the street.

Long farewells are unnecessary tears.

"Junior."

"Boss?"

"In ten minutes at the dorm."

"Yes, Boss."

Judging by his intonation, I distracted him, but it's late, and he still needs to make it.

"So..." I looked at myself-with-a-nut-in-a-head. Junior looked dumb and devoted, just like I would if I were him. "Give me the phone."

It took me less than a minute to transfer the skills. Then I created an order for delivery to the Mage Guild through the forum, poked at the confirmation myself, and returned the phone to Junior:

"You leave this world for another. There you will fulfill the order, you will distribute the skills to the umruns, who are cared for by the adventurers of Mira and Larna."

While I was explaining point by point what to do, Junior nodded in time and only clarified:

"How do I get back here?"

"You don't. You stay there, and when the colonists settle in, you can live your life."

He rubbed his chin and suddenly asked an unexpected question: "Boss... What's my name then? And then what should I do?"

Good question. I'm not going to make anything up, clever people determined long ago: "You are a kind of younger relative and a freedman by status. I mean... Go on, Marius Julius Nuncio Junior. I've installed the Trade Guild app for you, and I've given you my account, so try to get up to platinum rank. All debts and all profits are now yours alone."

He nodded silently and began to pack. Should I leave my bag and my cape? For what? I took them off, put them in the closet, then took out the familiar case, put the rings in it, and put them in the same place. I put the notebook under the bag, looked around for goodbye, and went out.

Already outside, when Junior busily adjusted his cloak and walked away, I asked: "When did you figure out how to get rid of me?"

He stopped: "Well... the next morning, boss. Why?"

Huh. such a dumbass.

"Nothing. Go."

I was afraid to sleep next to him for a reason. I know myself, and he's practically me.

Only not so charming.

A wide back in a cape flashed among passersby, farther and farther away, and then it was covered by a passing car... Well, now there would probably be another meme: "The happy fat man disappears before the eyes of witnesses". Why did the System need this? Hell if I know. Not really interested.

Bleep.

What else?

To close your work account, go to the registration room.

It was evening, and I was walking through the city without the usual weight of the bag on my back. Without the magic rings, without the cloak that shielded me from the curses of the unreal - just naked, honestly! But the rating on the appendix was only "B-7".

If you see this sign...

"May I?"

"Y-yes..."

"Hello, Goggles."

I sat down in the visitor's chair, and Hero, who greeted me with his wand raised to attack me, nervously adjusted his glasses and said:

"Look, but that's not fair! You've done so much, and they make an order?! For me, on you?!"

And for sure for a minimum price, because there's nothing to go.

"Calm down. I'm quitting, and you've been sent to clean up the clogging on the trails. Get back to work, they're waiting for me at home."

He bit his lip and set the wand to minimum power and began to shine, controlling with the scanner:

"Thanks for the Reset! It was a great help yesterday!"

Reset... Oh, right.

"Sure. Use it. What was that all about?"

"You saw it yourself, didn't you?"

So Junior replaced me in this as well?

But it turned out that all the fuss was because of one smart guy who decided to sleep in the wrong place at the wrong time. So his dreams made all sorts of things come out. It's a shame Abstinent really got eaten, though. But I already know that death is not always the end.

"Screw it!"

"What?"

Goggles, still looking at me in the scanner, shook his head: "Nothing. All good."

"Well, bye then."

I waved goodbye and went out, looking above the door. No signs, no one was waiting for me, no one needed me without my talents. Nice!

Where there had recently been a passageway to the seventh hall, there was now just a wall. A solid, brick wall. I picked up my phone and scanned it - a translucent curtain. Well, that' better, because if you can't see demons, yadda, fa-fa, and all that. I'm about to walk out of the hall where the goat-faced deliverymen are radiating, and the app will turn off. Just like the first day.

I walked to the cab with confidence, stamping my footsteps. A man should not walk with his head hanging down! I will look forward without looking back.

Looking out the window at the flashing city, I tried to imagine what I was going to do now. My dad threw me out in the cold... Okay, in the heat to keep me busy. And what was the result? I actually found a business that I liked. I mean, Daddy did again what I can't stand him for! I mean, he was right.

I'll never forgive.

Maybe I should go into GameDev? But I don't think we know anyone in that field, and I don't want to start out as anything less than a department head. It's understandable that I won't make much work there either, but at least I'll keep my self-respect. Being kicked out of the internship and fired from the post of deputy director - there is a difference! Well, and a line on my resume is not superfluous.

At the sad squeak the Delivery app became unavailable, then blinked and activated again. That's how I can track a place with an unreal. The city will be constantly beeping, there are hundreds of goat-footed people, and there are all sorts of other things. The same pharmacy with a cosplayer is not in sight, but a little to the side, albeit on a short trail. It's not like there's any of them. It's radiating unreal, but it's hard to find it.

Eh... Sometimes you're eating cookies, and there's less and less of them, and you think, "Here's the penultimate one, so you've got to enjoy the next one". You reach into the box and it's empty. You just ate the last one and you can't enjoy it anymore. I'm in the same mood right now. That's right, it's okay, I had a great time, I helped people. The non-humans, too. Something started, maybe even good, thanks to me. But...

But the last cookie will be enjoyed by someone else.

It is a pity that some mysteries remain unsolved.

Why, why do I have to put the nose to confirmation?!

Familiar gates, familiar doors, time to get ready for battle. Daddy will probably want to throw me into the thick of it so I can smell the real life! I'll try to call my mother as an arbiter. Maneuver and dodge so I don't end up locked up in the most boring office for a year! I'm going to need a lot of...

Bleep.

Oh, did they order delivery from the restaurant for my return?

Still holding the phone in my hand, I opened the door and stopped.

My parents looked at me tensely and distrustfully.

And no courier...

Automatically picking up my phone, I quickly flipped through the app to the scanner.

"Mom."

Canoness of the Sorority of the Faithful, 77 Lv.

"Dad."

Primipil of the Third Italian Legion, 81 Lv.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

I looked at them again through the scanner.

For example - why don't I have wings?

What am I, adopted?!

* * *
The end​

 

[Golden Roger5804]

Add to thread mark. And is this the end?

 

[RiP]

And is this the end?

Click to shrink...

Yes, the Author is not a fan of endless stories with thousands of chapters. He has all the stories in 1-2 books at most.