Castor stared neutrally at his computer screen, unable to comprehend one fact: how did these individuals even exist in the current century and era? When knowledge and intellect surpassed physical strength and endurance, how could they not possess these qualities? How were these representatives of a weak genome capable of surviving? Or were they connected from a home for the mentally disabled? But then how were they allowed to access the internet? And how did they manage to use such a complex device as a personal computer? It's impossible, even hypothetically, given their backwardness and weak nervous systems. And it's dangerous: an unstable mind can behave unpredictably in stressful situations. Like now, when his bottom line has come under attack from an enemy forest hero. Even though Brinel warned him about the danger. Consequently, their brains are so smooth that they are incapable of simple neural connections.
"The difference between my line and the enemy's line is too great, which requires me to write about it in the general chat.
"The difference between the brains of the lower line representatives is so great that they cannot be compared with each other. Science is incapable of such complex calculations and is at a loss when it comes to my lower line. Congratulations, you will become a new dead end in scientific research," read Ddraig the message that Castor sent to the chat.
"Tell me, partner, are you sure you don't know of any poisons? It's too toxic."
"Ddraig, would you tolerate mentally retarded lizards in your own pack?" asked the mage when he finished writing the message while his character was respawning. "Would you tolerate their stupid mistakes that lead to disasters?"
"Not lizards, dragons, but I get it."
Castor shook his head and turned away from the monitor screen to sigh sadly. This League of Legends is a strange thing: on the one hand, it's a terrible game with a moronic and aggressive community, completely broken mechanics and systems, and a company that doesn't give a damn about its players, but on the other hand... The opportunity to test your mental (well... debatable), reaction and tactical abilities against other people who don't know anything about you is priceless. No one looks at Castor as a monster, a hero or a saviour, but as this "lame ranger who can't carry the top lane." A direct quote from a previous game. Except that the top laner completely lost the lane, losing his value.
There is a strange dependence on these ups and downs of victory and defeat. Brinel couldn't say it was bad, and he had already experienced something similar. When, once again, he either saved a hundred people from certain death, or... The mage turned off the game and got up from his chair. He walked over to a tall cabinet with many shelves and looked at the souvenirs he had brought back from various countries. The journey, which had lasted seven months and ten days, had ended yesterday. It was... pleasant. Seeing other countries, learning about their culture and traditions, listening to native speakers in real life, trying local cuisine, seeing the architecture and local wonders of construction and nature...
These feelings of freedom and new knowledge... Pleasant. Incredibly pleasant! For the first time in a long time, his smile was as warm as it had been in his childhood. When the world around him seemed full of wonders and unseen curiosities! When he could allow himself to be a carefree child, thinking of nothing but the problems and troubles of adults! Although it was only for a short time, Castor fell into this state and allowed himself to relax.
Brinel ran his hand over a decorative Chinese sword — a jian — and closed his eyes. China. A beautiful country with an ancient culture and history, as well as a rich cuisine and heritage. The Great Wall, the Forbidden City... A magnificent past in the present. Castor opened his eyes and shifted his gaze to a matryoshka doll, the most famous symbol of Russia. A country full of contradictions, but with a beautiful culture and an eventful history. And the church architecture... He may not have fully understood religion, but he could admire the magnificent cathedrals and churches. Next to this toy lay a fez, the traditional headdress of Turkey. A warm country with lively trade and developed tourism. Its history and culture are also full of colour.
"Trophies of a hunter of history and culture," whispered Castor, stepping back to look at the remaining souvenirs from various countries. Hungary, Poland, Germany, France, Brazil... It would be easier to name the countries Brinel had not visited. There were very few, and even those he had not visited due to political troubles and the regimes of those countries.
Politics... The mage grimaced at the nasty word that always stuck in his throat. Nasty and vile, but necessary in this world. Much to Castor's regret. After all, if the world were united, it could reach new heights and begin to conquer the galaxy, instead of stopping at the ISS and rocket flights. But... Countries continue to fight each other for reasons that are unclear. Influence, resources, and power. As much power as possible.
"Wasn't your empire exactly the same?" asked the dragon, making a reasonable point. Brinel's smile immediately turned cold.
"Erulan... Not the best country, but the alternatives were no better.
And, unfortunately, no imperial machine could withstand the invaders from another reality and the followers of an ancient god.
***
Sazex frowned as he sat in his office. Adjusting his scarlet hair, the current Satan slowly exhaled after reading the report to the very end. Not long ago, he and the intelligence corps had been faced with a headache that they still hadn't solved. A little less than a year ago, a rumour spread among the vampire clans that had reached the demons. It was said that someone was killing young vampires in droves, leaving no traces except for shattered ice statues. That they used to be those young ones. Sazex wouldn't have worried about it, but... Any incident of this kind on a mass scale is an alarm bell. The so-called demon hunters... They always caused trouble.
Satan adjusted his shoulder pad and shifted his shoulder. He wanted to take off his heavy cloak and relax, but now he couldn't afford to do nothing at work. These incidents would have remained unsolved if similar traces had not appeared in other parts of the world. Wild spirits were being destroyed in South America, cannibals in Oceania, and who knows who else. And in the same way — frozen to the bone and cut into small pieces.
Was that bad? Sazex shook his head and put the report aside. In his opinion, only a little. Those killed were not the best representatives of the human and mystical worlds, but... The appearance of such killers never boded well. They brought only death and destruction, eventually turning into killers who hunted exclusively for them. Exclusively. Obsessed with blood and death, they had brought too much grief not only to his family, but also to the yokai themselves.
"Sazeks!
Satan raised his head and allowed himself to smile.
"And what have I done to deserve a visit from the honourable Lady Leviathan?"
"Here we go again! I'm here on important business!" Serafall pouted for a moment, but quickly sat down opposite him and glared at him. Sazex's smile vanished instantly.
"What's wrong?"
"I wasn't sure at first, but after double-checking all the information and confirming it myself, I can tell you who this mysterious mage is.
"I'm listening," his old friend sighed and looked at him sternly. Even coldly. She only used that look for serious conversations. Very serious ones.
"You must not act rashly or spread this information beyond this room. Don't even tell your wife.
"All right," Satan nodded slowly after a short pause. Serafall was a smart woman who had been involved in politics for a long time, so he trusted her experience and knowledge, but... What was she planning to tell him?
"This mage's name is Castor Brinel, and he is from another world.
"Pardon me?"
"Yes..." She leaned back in her chair and looked wearily at the ceiling. "It sounds like nonsense, but I know him personally. And I know his position.
Sazex interlaced his fingers and exhaled slowly. His fatigue and unpleasant headache only intensified. An alien? That news was even worse. These guys were quite rare, and the demand for them was incredibly high because of their potential knowledge and abilities. However... There was just as much excitement surrounding the Longinuses.
"And I wasn't lied to," Leviathan looked at him when the man raised his eyebrow doubtfully. "Castor really does demonstrate knowledge and powers that do not belong to our world.
"And it's getting more and more interesting..." Sazeks whispered and closed his eyes. His thoughts swirled chaotically, trying to form some kind of logical chain, but nothing came of it. There were too many unexpected questions to which he had no answers.
"Tell me more.
***
Serapholl hardly knew Castor, only watching over him for safety reasons, but she understood. The man wanted a normal life and no connection to the other side of the world. She understood his desire and even envied his ability to achieve it, but... The powerful always attract attention. And the powerful and rare ones especially so. Especially when they don't try to hide their abilities.
"He lives here? Right next to your sister and mine?"
"Yes. And he's not dangerous," the woman looked away when Sazex looked at her. "At least, not unless you provoke him.
"And don't bother him with unnecessary and useless matters.
Leviathan and Satan spun around 180 degrees to look at the person who had spoken. Castor stood before them, dressed in a simple T-shirt and trousers, with dark glasses on his nose. His face was adorned with his usual meaningless smile, and he was carrying bags of groceries."How did he sneak up on us so quietly?!" Her hypersensitivity had been silent the whole time! And Brinel had done it on purpose!
"Another Lord of Hell and spawn of the abyss, if I read the energy surges correctly. But unlike Seraphall, your connection to the abyss is much deeper. It's as if you're part of it.
"You must mean my power of destruction," Sazex quickly replaced his surprise with a smile and held out his hand to Brinel. "Sazex Lucifer. The current bearer of the title of Satan and brother of Rias Gremory.
"I hope you're not acting like a spoiled prince who craves attention from the world around him.
Castor put down one of the bags and quickly shook the outstretched hand, as if not noticing the man's twitching eyelid when he realised who the mage was talking about. Serafall just smiled. Eh... Sazex doesn't like facts, he doesn't.
"What could you two possibly want from me? At the moment, I am distributing information that I received during my trip around the world. And for that, I need peace and quiet," despite his smile, Castor's tone became cold and impartial. Yes, Serafall didn't know him, but it wasn't hard to guess that this change was not in their favour.
"Just to talk and understand a few things. Nothing more," Sazex smiled a little wider, trying to win the young man's trust. Leviathan put her hand on her belt and glanced sideways at her friend. The man was certainly charismatic, but he wouldn't be able to melt this block of ice.
"Am I correct in understanding that if we refuse, you will both continue your attempts or, in the worst case, attack?" Castor took off his glasses, and his glowing blue eyes looked straight into Satan's face. The blond man's gaze was grim. "Then it's easier for me to talk to you and be a gracious host for a while."
***
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