Chapter 8 - Chapter 7. Calm and Service to the Omnissiah

Chapter 7. Calm and Service to the Omnissiah

 "It's quiet here. Too quiet..."

 A typical phrase uttered a few seconds before the ass starts.

 The next morning. The Lair of the King of Thieves.

 - Mr-r-r... - who said that mornings can't be good? If you wake up in the arms of a beautiful and completely naked girl, with whom you spent a very fruitful day and an even more fruitful night... the morning is quite good. And I congratulated Neo on that.

 - (^_____^), - a satisfied little face answered me. Well, the lady was definitely satisfied, and I "rediscovered" another advantage of an Aura user, it not only heals, but also... hmm... maintains strength.

 - Shower, breakfast or shall we continue?

 – (<_<)… – very deep thoughtfulness, interrupted by the distinct rumbling of the cutie's tummy.

 - Got it. You go take a shower, and I'll make breakfast.

 - (^_^), - they quickly kissed me on the lips and slipped out from under the blanket, after which they paraded in the right direction, not at all embarrassed by their appearance... however, after everything that happened, being embarrassed in any way is really somehow stupid.

 Well, breakfast is breakfast. Putting on the kettle and cutting up some sandwiches won't take long... and then I can join my little one, I promised to spy on her in the shower, right? So I'll spy... and rub her back. Hmm, or not just her back, heh-heh.

 In short, we had to reheat the kettle, but none of us were upset by this circumstance. Life was wonderful and wonderful. Right up until a call from one extremely unpleasant number.

 - At the device.

 - Roman, - they purred from the other end in an erotic voice. But for some reason he caused me a persistent disgust, and not some kind of "languor".

 - Cinder. To what do I owe such a pleasant companion?

 - Oh, I just wanted to congratulate you on your success... and also remind you that we need much more...

 - Cinder, my dear, - she seemed to shudder at the other end. Slightly, - I am very happy, but one batch of this size every week or two is the maximum that can be obtained with such a large number of workers and without raising the level of panic of the authorities above acceptable. And even at such a rate, the targets will run out very soon. And we will be lucky if in a couple of weeks a good ambush does not start waiting for us at each subsequent point.

 - Hmm, so you need more people to speed up the work and get there before the ambushes appear?

 - Oh, - I sigh heavily into the phone. - If I got enough executors, I would clean out this city in a week, down to the very last grain of Dust, but it would be completely pointless, since in the bacchanalia that would begin after such a thing, the authorities would start combing through every box in the alley. They would attract all the Hunters from the continent, take all the middlemen and all the bosses by the throat and expose the location of all our warehouses in the same week, catching the entire White Fang and sympathizers along the way, after which they would crack them to the bottom and collect on us everything that is known and only thought up among these flea-bitten revolutionaries. Do you need that?

 – … – respectful (I hope) silence became my answer.

 - So yes, I need people, - I confirmed more peacefully. - Adequate, able to use their heads, and if it is absolutely impossible to do without an awl in the ass on the topic of "killing all humans", then at least so that the size of this awl does not put pressure on their brains. Then everything will be chic and wonderful for us. And by the way, I still suggest hiring punks, you'll see, they are no less useful than your... pets.

 - No again, Roman. I don't want to involve strangers whose ability to keep their mouths shut I won't be sure of. But I'll send you some more workers... Adequate workers, - she added after a pause. Really? Something big died somewhere... Oh, right, those tests of mine on the friendly Goliath... - But... - well, here it goes, - I'll have to work a little outside my specialty.

 - Hm?

 - I heard that the contact already conveyed to you a request from Adam to sort out one small problem that happened to him? Do it. In the meantime, I'll give orders to allocate you some more... people, - at this point the connection was cut off.

 "What a bitch," I gritted my teeth. Even though I understand in my mind that "tying with blood" is a pretty effective tactic, especially in this world, even though it's rarely used here, it doesn't make things any easier for me. Until now, I've somehow managed to get by without corpses, I'd like it to continue like this (unless these are the corpses of Cinder and Adam, as well as the White Fang fanatics, of course), which means I need to think about how to get out of this situation. Doing nothing… is possible, but then poor Takson will be killed by Mercury and Emerald – a couple of Cinder's henchmen, not burdened with morals, but even with any "concepts", damn outlaws…

 – (>_>), – thump-thump.

 "I'm fine, Neo. Just another unpleasant 'request' from our 'esteemed employer'," I wanted to spit at every phrase.

 – … – a heavy sigh.

 - Uh-huh. Can I ask you for a small favor?

 – (v_V)? – a businesslike nod and a focused look.

 - Take a walk around the morgues, I need to see where I can get the body of a large man of about forty years old.

 - (O_O)?

 "I'm a thief, not a hired killer, so I'll solve the problem using my own methods."

 – (^_^), – a nod. They kissed me again and started getting ready to go "for a walk" into the city.

 I, having puzzled the lady, went back to the machines, that is, the Workbench. Load the consumables, fill it with Dust and sit down to finish the rail. Next in line was the cooling system. The fact is that even when strengthening the weapon with Aura, using Air Dust in shells and gravity-suspension of cartridges, the conductive rails heated up. The higher the temperature of the conductor, the worse its conductivity, and the worse the conductivity, the weaker the shot and the more the conductor heats up. Although the design of the railgun itself does not provide for firing in bursts, but "three shots per minute", as for a muzzle-loading musket, or five, but "to melt the barrel", categorically did not suit me. However, this problem was solved simply - an aluminum casing with an admixture of Ice Dust and a small storage crystal of the same type in the base. In theory, it will be enough for a thousand shots. On top is a polymer heat-insulating coating, so that your hands don't freeze... or don't waste Aura on protecting said hands. All that's left is to screw a spark gap onto the end of the barrel, it can be powered by the same Dust Battery that supplies energy to the firing mechanism. What is it for? Just in case the weapon switches to plasma gun mode - a spark breakdown should create a superconducting channel, given that the initial beam will be accelerated in the direction of the breakdown, then it will not need to go "backward". In theory. In practice, I will have to play with the voltage again, perhaps I will have to install a capacitor, or even another Dust Battery, albeit a small one, on the end of the barrel. I light a new cigar. I have to think and tinker.

 I struggled with the models almost until the evening, but the result was worth it - four options, externally almost indistinguishable from each other, if there was a normal testing ground, it would be possible to limit myself to one, simply by supplying the required power from the generator to the weapon inputs, but, alas, in my case it was much easier and cheaper to immediately assemble a "pre-production" sample, simply because with the presence of Ashes, riveting a battery of the required format is a matter of half an hour, but a controlled generator is more difficult, there is no necessary software or drawings, stealing the necessary from somewhere or inventing it myself - too long, and if I can somehow "give birth" to the generator, then the "brains" for it ... not on the local software for sure, since I understand absolutely nothing in it. So, a standard user interface.

 Anyway, when Neo returned and decided she had had enough and came to pull me out from behind the car, she was met with four futuristic-looking rifles on a shelf and her favorite boss, sitting surrounded by cigarette butts and thoughtfully examining them.

 – …

 - Oh, you're back already? - A vague gesture. - Um? Four hours ago? Sorry, baby, got carried away.

 – (–_-)… – she waved her hand hopelessly and… dragged him off to lunch.

 In the kitchen, a portion of roast meat, some kind of juice, fruit drink or compote, it doesn't matter, and also pleasant company were already waiting for me.

 - Neo, did I tell you that I love you?

 – (^_^), – nod.

 - I will repeat it with pleasure anyway, I love you! And now - bon appetit! May this food be zohavana!

 – (^___^).

 After dinner and the traditional washing of the dishes, I again turned to my faithful servant.

 - So, my dear Neo, we need to go shooting again!

 – (T_T), – yes, doing it with a full tummy is not so cool, but what can you do.

 - We must, Neo, we must.

 – (Q‸Q)…

 - Okay, but tomorrow morning is a must. And how is my request going, any progress?

 – (^_^), – a nod. The girl took out her Scroll, or rather, the "tablet" modification, not just a "mobile", and showed me a couple of points on the map of Vale.

 – Where will there be the least problems?

 - ... - a jab towards the hospital in the port area.

 Logically, the port has always been a place where too many people, things and money change their position. Even though after the invention of "airliners" the turnover of goods by sea fell somewhat, "kerosene", or rather Gravity-Dust, is expensive, so it was still much more profitable to transport something large-tonnage by sea, despite the sea Grimm and the risks associated with them. And where there is profit and such a crowd, there will always be a place for crime and their showdowns. From gangs of "city rats" - street children to quite "respectable people" in expensive suits, sitting in spacious offices and receiving their modest percentage for ensuring that nothing happens to the cargo ... in addition to the standard force majeure, of course. But let's leave the people in expensive suits and return to someone simpler. Division of territory, showdowns, shootouts and so on. Ah, these memories of youth! In general, let the participants of such showdowns, as a rule, try to limit themselves to beatings, but sometimes someone could overdo it. There were also cases when there were not enough "hints", and then they would knock someone down completely, but this did not happen very often. But we are not proud people, random corpses are enough for us.

 "Good job," I stroked the girl's head, who had closed her eyes with pleasure. "What do you want to do next, watch some TV series or?.."

 - (^_^), - in response, Neo took out the already familiar package and swallowed another pill, after which she jumped on me.

 "So, 'or'," I nodded to my thoughts before starting the battle of tongues with the little slut who had gotten a taste for it… my slut.

***

 The next morning, cheerful and happy, I woke up the sleep-deprived but also happy girl and ordered her to prepare the bullhead for flight, while I myself cut sandwiches and poured coffee into a thermos - no point in wasting time, I had huge plans for today! Well, I was also slightly tempted to shoot a real railgun myself! Of course, after the model had passed the required tests and launches through the "Crooked Gun", but I was eighty percent sure that at least one of the four rifles would pass the tests.

 Here comes the Hour of Trial! How tired I am of waiting! The path to the cherished goal was long! Dark scum of the light magi-e-e! Ahem... I really got carried away and got carried away somewhere. Speaking of magic, if I remember correctly, it all came from the Black Dragon, who also created the grimm, so the song is on topic. Extremely on topic, but oh well, let's leave thoughts about the big boss for later and return to my Charm.

 The first stage of testing, namely shooting in railgun mode, went without problems, and the copper arrow treated with Dust was approved as standard ammunition, the steel one became armor-piercing, and the gravity projectile was the ultimate argument. Adding other types of Dust was pointless, compared to pure kinetic damage, a couple of grams of Fire, Electric, Earth or Ice did not look at all. All four rails showed themselves perfectly, the rate of fire was also remarkable - ninety shots per minute the weapon held calmly, without deviations in characteristics, it will even be possible to reduce the casing-radiator with Ice Dust. In general, the standard development of statistics began, it is best, of course, to shoot to capacity, but ... the toad chokes, and I do not think that this is necessary - you should not forget about the Aura boost either. In short, the routine began. Neo, who at first watched the shooting with some enthusiasm, began to yawn and often went to our vehicle to refuel with another cup of coffee and gobble up a sandwich, while I continued to take data. Finally, considering that they were more than enough, I switched the battery power regulator to maximum impulse, setting not thirty, but fifty kilovolts, and changed the ammunition to the very first type - an aluminum blank with a booster module made of Fire Ash, essentially a regular unjacketed cartridge, only detonation occurs from a spark, and instead of lead, the bullet is cast from another metal. So, the first model, at the end of a spark gap with direct power from the Ash battery. Let's move away ... launch!

 - BOOM! - the already familiar fireball passed through the railgun and detonated the battery.

 - (O_O)? - Neo looked out from the car, apparently deciding to take a nap there.

 - Yeah, direct power supply doesn't provide enough power. Let's continue...

 – (T_T)… – the girl climbed back into the bullhead with a heavy sigh, and the sounds of liquid being poured could be heard. Hey, she's going to drink all my coffee like that! Not good… I light a cigar from the red-hot barrel and take a deep drag, so… where was the fire extinguisher? Roman is smart, Roman thought to put it this time!

 Model number two, with a capacitor that accumulated charge from the battery, showed itself a little better, but the plasma ball simply "thought" about where to go, and ended up hanging on the barrel for a second and a half and disintegrating, finally destabilizing. The result was a small fiery fountain and a melted half of the railgun, but at least the battery survived, and that's good.

 The third model, with a separate small battery at the end of the barrel and a slightly modified discharger to add power from the main one. Everything went wrong with it. I simply didn't take into account that the aluminum of the casing, alloyed with Ice Dust, would also be close to superconductivity. The voltage of one battery was not enough to cause a breakdown of the polymer insulation, but two... As a result, the rifle hissed, became covered in a network of discharges, and the miniature Sun that had already formed at its end flew not forward, not back, but to the left and side... exactly where I was standing. All I had time to do was get scared, not yet really realizing what I was afraid of, because the flash and crackle of discharges are not exactly the signs by which one can orient oneself in the split second that it took the lump of plasma to reach my location. And... nothing. I stood in front of a scorched clearing, exactly the same one stretching into the distance behind me. I read somewhere that the first seconds of a thermal burn from super-high temperatures are not felt - the incinerated nerve endings simply do not have time to transmit a signal or something like that. I don't know, I'm not a doctor… but… nothing happened.

 I glanced down very carefully, afraid to see a black hole in my chest or somewhere else, but... nothing. Nothing at all. How?! I rejected the idea that a plasma charge was no more dangerous than a firecracker for an Aura user right away. Aura protects against physical impacts, that's all, and an impact that can evaporate at least a dozen cubic meters of dense damp wood, and in fact - pierce through several sheets of armor, cannot be weak. But then what? The answer was obvious. If some incomprehensible crap happened to you, the Manifestation is to blame. But mine is a spatial pocket and manipulations with it. Is this what I realized when I acquired it? Or is it not quite like that? Or even not at all?! And if not, then... really?!

 I slowly approach the nearest tree and... run my hand through its trunk.

 - I'm a fool... There are not three dimensions, but many more! - I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Even if a person can only comprehend three-dimensional space, but theoretically they derived formulas even for sixteen-dimensional space! Even if I don't remember a damn thing about them and in general it was just an abstruse theory for "general development", which even students can't really retell without a manual, but... Damn it! Why did I think that my Manifestation is limited to only three dimensions?

 Once again I run my palm through the barrel in the opposite direction.

 Damn it! There are two spaces: the outside world and my "pocket". And I always maintain contact with both of them! Even when the body is completely in one, there is a binding to the coordinates of the second, allowing me to both extract the desired object out, and to exit at a different point relative to the one where I entered. The fourth dimension of my being, or something like that, always remains in the second space relative to my physical body, providing a connection and binding to the coordinates ... Or even several of these dimensions - fifth, sixth, damn thirteenth - it doesn't matter, the point is that I can shuffle them between the two available spaces. I'm just like fucking Tobi from Naruto, only without the stylish eyes!

 – And even the passion for trolling is the same… – I started to laugh hysterically. – A bad sign. A very bad one. Roman is definitely not a Good Boy, eh-eh…

 And did I also say that the locals sometimes hammer nails with a microscope? And I turned out to be no better. Walling off warehouses, carrying guns for all occasions, what else is there? Putting on the OBChR with the power of thought for a hard fight? And don't you want to shift your physical body "in phase"? Complete and absolute invulnerability to any damage, simply due to the fact that you are outside of reality, leaving in it, in fact, only a pure reflection of your body.

 Okay, the main thing is to realize... and train a conditioned reflex. He-he... And stop laughing, even if it's nervous.

 - (O_o)? - Neo's head appeared from the "plane" to the sounds of a particularly strong badabum and my laughter.

 - It's okay, I just realized one funny thing and understood what kind of crap I was suffering from before! Get ready, we're flying home! - Of course, it was possible to try to break the last sample, but screw it, in addition to the second Dust battery there was also a regular capacitor, it will break down one hundred percent, first you need to strengthen the insulation and reduce the cooling level, it is clearly excessive. And you also need to get Neo away from here as soon as possible, she is a smart girl, she can suspect something, scaring her with the fact that her beloved boss almost committed suicide, and only the Manifestation saved him, which turned out to be much more powerful than he himself thought ... no need for this, in general. So home.

 At home, under Neo's sigh, pretending to be a man resigned to his fate, I sat down at the Workbench again. So, tear off the old casing, replace the casing with a "freshly printed" one, but with a smaller admixture of Ice Dust, at the same time the crystal will now be enough for three to five thousand shots, but we will strengthen the insulation of the rails, it's a pity, it is also impossible to place a screen in this insulation to level the field, or rather, it is possible to place it, but it will not do any good, because there is nowhere to ground, so just more plastic and rubber! Hmm, and the rails can also be made telescopic and a rotating mechanism can be added, do the same with plastic and rubber, then the rifle can be folded into a small case! Brrr, put this Technoheresy aside! No additional mechanics and moving parts out of nowhere! The weapon should be simple as an oar! And if there is no point in declaring compactness, it is me!

 "Filing" and adjusting the sample took another two hours, Gods-Dragons bless the creator of Workbenches, I would have been sweating for two days. But in the end, I had two rifles in my hands again, licked, even with a full-fledged loading system, even though I had to make a "bullpup", or whatever the design is called, when the clip is inserted behind the handle of the weapon, almost into the butt? But what can you do, the acceleration rail dictates its own conditions, which cannot be avoided. And so I, all handsome with two guns at the ready, went to make eyes at Neo.

 – (>‸<)! – the girl pouted and put her hands on her hips.

 – (Q_Q), – she wasn't the only one who knew how to make eyes.

 - (O_o)?

 – (Т‸Т)…

 - (o_O)? - even the color of her eyes changed to white.

 - Please, Neo, I'm already finished, these are fully working prototypes!

 – (–_–)…

 - I remember that I said something similar last time, but the previous ones worked! No complaints about the rail, and now I have finished the plasma.

 – (–_–)…

 "I owe you five... no, ten servings of ice cream!" I used my last argument.

 – (–_–)…

 – I also promise that I will carry at least another ten kilograms with me and give them out on demand.

 – (–_-)… – a heavy sigh, and she went back to the bullhead. She showed me with her fingers that in a little while there wouldn't be a single normal clearing left in the vicinity of Vale without trees shot through and through.

 This time the flight lasted almost an hour and a half, but we still found the place. True, we had to quickly clean it from the grim, but this was already perceived as a normal routine. We cleaned it, set up the stand, quickly checked the "railgun". Not finding any cardinal differences from the previous tests and getting the same stable ninety shots per minute, I switched to plasma mode... after which I hugged Neo and shifted us both in phase. Just in case. Launch.

 – VZH-ZH-ZHU-UH! – the plasma ball finally flew in the right direction, sweeping away everything in its path. – Psh-sh-sh, – the barrel cooled. – VZH-ZH-ZHU-UH! – another one. – Psh-sh-sh…

 The result is twelve shots per minute, it can't be faster because of overheating, but the charge in the Ice Dust crystal will last for a maximum of a hundred shots, although I would prefer to change it after eighty. In any case, the result is stable and more than worthy. The tests of the second rifle were almost the same, with the only exception that the capacitor was still an excess... which additionally ionized the plasma clot itself. Although the brightly flaming white ball looked very impressive, and its temperature was clearly much higher, but in this mode the weapon could only fire two shots per minute, and the ice crystal was enough for only five shots. In general, excess power, I'll keep it in reserve, but with such a "caliber" you can only hunt dragons ... Mmm, that's an idea.

 Anyway, the working rifle was invented and "certified", so Neo and I spent the rest of the day... selflessly shooting Grimm with railguns, sometimes "showing off" with a plasma volley. Oh, how her eyes were burning with excitement, and that slightly protruding tongue when shooting... By the way, it would be necessary to install optics, fortunately it can be made "retractable", anyway there is an unused area under the frame. And for close range, install a laser sight. So the day passed quite cheerfully and productively, she even forgot about ice cream! Well... almost forgot.

 Having shot and flown to our heart's content, we returned home, where we quickly had dinner with the pizza we ordered and went to bed. This time, just to sleep, we got up early, we had run around a lot during the day, and in general, there was little that was good. Besides, going to bed clutching a beauty who had trustingly snuggled up to you was also very, very pleasant, I recommend it!

***

 The doorbell rang, and I entered the premises. "Tucson's Bookstore" looked... like a bookstore, which it was. Perhaps it was even cozier here than in the stores I was used to from my previous life, always combined with something else and looking like an ordinary department store, in which books stand on the shelves instead of products. Here... wooden furniture, warm colors, beautiful shelves worthy of a respectable library, well, and the seller did not at all give the impression of an ordinary sales worker, one of those guys who fill everything, who clearly and openly do not give a shit about anything, if only to stand until the end of the working day and get money.

 "Hello, can I help you?" A tall, stocky man with a friendly face and chic black sideburns rose eagerly from behind the counter.

 - Yes! - I twirl my cane in my hand and head towards the salesperson. - I need to pick out a gift for a young girl with a strong sense of justice. Something high-quality, written in good language and at the same time romantic on the theme of misunderstood rebel heroes. Just without characters sparkling in the sun, that's important!

 - Um... - Tukson was puzzled for a few seconds. - I'm not sure I understand your request exactly... Perhaps "Love Ninja" would suit you, but it's quite an adult book, although it is considered a romance.

 - No, it's too early for us to read erotica, - I thoughtfully drummed my fingers on the handle of my melee weapon. - We need something lighter, but one where the main character is a villain in the eyes of society, but when tested turns out to be a good guy who was pushed to a criminal path by need and circumstances. If it takes place in a fantasy setting, even better.

 "Hmm-m-m," the seller thought sincerely, "I have something similar... but..." he hesitated.

 - But what?

 – You see, this is a story about a fox-faun who robbed the rich and gave the money to the poor, and his confrontation with the local sheriff... Not the most popular literature in these times.

 - And by any chance he wasn't an archer there? - If someone here was able to write "The Divine Comedy", albeit somewhat different from the work I once read, then maybe Robin Hood is here too?

 - Um... no, he's a sword master there.

 - Great! I'll take it!

 - Okay... - shrugging his eyebrows (it turns out that's also possible), Takson turned around and disappeared between the shelves behind his work station. I went to the magazine rack and pulled out the first one I came across. - Here, that'll be thirty lei, - said the seller, who returned a minute later.

 – Can you wrap it in gift wrap?

 "Then thirty-one," having received my nod, the panther faun, who was very good at disguising himself as a human, began to pack the goods.

 - I'll also take these magazines with the latest weapons, I think... - I put a couple of publications with good photos on the counter. The hoodie should like them.

 "Of course," Takson packed all the purchases into a bag. "All together it will cost you fifty-seven leen."

 "Please," I count out the required number of rectangles of local currency from my wallet and hand over the money.

 "Thank you for your purchase," the package moved into my hands.

 - Yes, it's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Tuckson. By the way, could you satisfy my curiosity?

 - If it is within my power...

 - Great! So, uh... - I lean on my cane and look the man in the eye. - What's the point of naming a store after yourself when you're on the run from a group of terrorists thirsting for your blood?

 "Eh…" the faun's eyes widened in confusion.

 – Just don't take this as criticism, as for me, you fully deserve to have your name immortalized in the title, but don't you find it a little… risky?

 - ...Who are you? - the man squeezed out.

 "Roman Torchwick, at your service," I touch the brim of my hat with two fingers. "I'm the one who helps people solve their problems. Do you understand why I'm here?"

 "…Yes," the faun squeezed out again.

 - But let me doubt it. It just so happens that my current business partners want to get more than they can chew, and watching this, believe me, is not the most fun thing to do. Especially when among what they have their mouths wide open are your entrails, liver and other stuffing. I think you are familiar with this feeling, otherwise you would not have left the White Fang...

 - Then what do you want here? It's unlikely that the most wanted criminal in Vale came to my store just to buy a book and warn about the interest of... my old acquaintances, - the faun tensed up, preparing to either run away or try to bite me. Although the notes of doom that flashed through his voice made it clear that he was perfectly aware of the futility of both options.

 - It's simple. I'm in a similar situation to you, in a way. And I don't like it, just like the "requests" I get from my new "friends", I think you're more than familiar with that, Mr. Tukson.

 - Let's say... but you still haven't answered the question.

 - You want specifics? I have them! You and I have two options. First: we don't come to an agreement - and in a couple of hours the police will find the charred body of the owner here, who smoked before going to bed and accidentally burned down his own store and himself. Second: we come to an agreement - and in a couple of hours the police will also find the charred body of the owner here, but by that time you will already be far away, and then you will board a flight to Vacuo with new documents and an identity. What do you choose?

 - Of course, they won't leave me alone?

 - Alas, one of our mutual friends, a bull, has eaten too much beast and wants to gore someone. The choice fell on you, although, Gods see, it is almost physically painful for me to lose such a luxurious bookstore.

 - "A rebel hero misunderstood by society", huh? - the smile on the faun's lips was crooked, but still real. I spread my hands in response. - Okay, but I still won't be able to go to the place I need to go to before a month - the new documents aren't ready yet.

 - Hmm, you're a strange man, Tukson, they're telling you that they've come for your head, and you still want to wait for some documents. Anyway, okay, you helped me find an interesting book for a good girl, so I'll give you a couple of useful pieces of advice. First of all, the owner of Tukson's bookstore will die, so they won't look for you, but it's better not to catch their eye. The documents will be here tomorrow morning, don't mess with whoever makes them for you, don't mess with anyone at all - you're dead. You'll spend the night at this address, - I take a calendar from the counter and write down the details of a really out-of-the-way safe house in the port area. - The keys are under the third brick from the left, move it there and it'll pop out. Don't show up too much in the port, shave, change your hairstyle, put a couple of bolsters under your cheeks. They'll bring you a ticket for the daytime flight to Vacuo.

 "T-thank you," the faun nodded, slightly taken aback, "I don't even know how to express my gratitude…"

 - Three things.

 "I'm listening," the faun nodded seriously.

 – Don't get caught… and send me the contact details of the new bookstore, of course. Just for heaven's sake, don't call it Tucson's Bookshop!

 "I won't," my interlocutor's mood improved.

 - And thirdly... tell me about the White Fang schemes that you knew about. Recruitment methods, adequate representatives and people like Adam. Bases, warehouses - I need to know everything.

 - For what?

 - Actually, this is your payment for your life, but okay, I will answer so that you work not out of fear, but out of conscience. Fang and someone else in cahoots with him are planning something very bad. So bad that corpses can be stacked by the trainload. I am not happy with this, but blood will be spilled in any case. The only question is whose and how much. Right now, I consider the entire Fang as a crowd of armed, aggressive fanatics, and my actions will be... appropriate. It is in your power to convince me that at least some of them should be looked at more closely and not act rashly - if he is caught and interrogated, Cinder will have a lot of questions for me... although what am I talking about, if the "dead man" is caught, I will have a lot of problems in any case.

 "I… understand," Takson answered cautiously.

 - I really hope so. I'm already taking a huge risk by helping you.

 - But... why are you doing all this?

 - I have my own "code of honor", if I may say so. I am a thief, not a hired killer, and certainly not a killer on the run. Well, and I just don't like it when they brazenly want to tie me up with blood. Okay, enough politeness, start getting ready to move and start with the sideburns, while telling me the information I need - I still have to organize an "accidental fire" here.

 - Okay, I may have retired a long time ago, but I can tell you a few things about the "adequate" members of the White Fang. I should start with Blake Belladonna...

 About an hour later.

 - Just think, what have I come to? Burning books like some kind of medieval obscurantist... - I light a cigar on a cheerful flame from the nearest shelf. - There! There, Neo! This is what I was talking about! - I take a drag. - Collaboration with the White Fang leads to degradation!

 – (~_~)… – the girl holding me by the elbow carefully stroked my forearm.

 - And I can't even steal all of this, can you imagine? - the fire around me was growing more and more actively, but since we were out of phase, it didn't affect either me or my faithful servant. - My calling is literally being torn out of my soul by the roots, and I am forced to indulge it!

 – (>_>)…

 – Well, yes, we took something, I must know what Bantik saw in this "Ninja of Love"? But look around! So much mental work, so much outpouring of emotions, mental strain and sleepless nights… painstaking work of editors, in the end, I'm not even talking about illustrators and graphic artists. And I have to burn all this, like a wild barbarian… – another drag. I seriously tried to figure out how and where the air gets into the space where we are during the "phase shift", but I still didn't feel anything. It was just a fact that the surrounding flame and smoke did not touch us in any way until I consciously wanted to let them touch us. – Horrible…

 They again stroked me sympathetically and rubbed their cheeks against my hand.

 - Oh, okay, - I shake off the ashes. - Let's get out of here. I hope our new friend doesn't screw up the conspiracy, otherwise it will be sad...

 Neo nodded in agreement. My faithful servant, as usual, accompanied me to the operation under the illusion of her absence, allowing only me to see her. She calmly took a photo of the man on her Scroll when we agreed, and sent the photo where it was needed. Then the photos will be slightly edited to the standard passport "looks like him if you look closely", with a couple of tricks they will knock off a few years so that the document looks more believable, and they will be inserted into the necessary databases. Agree, if the photo in the passport that you supposedly received years ago looks like it was taken five minutes ago, this will arouse suspicion even in the most stupid inspector.

 However, to be honest, I wasn't sure what to do with this guy until the very last moment. On the one hand, I didn't like the canonical solution to the "Tucson Problem" through two young bastards, but I also didn't want to kill the faun myself or entrust it to Neo, including for the very reasons I voiced to him. Nevertheless, if he had turned out to be an average dumb faunus who had fled the White Fang only because of personal squabbles with his superiors, I would have smashed his skull in without the slightest remorse. And yes, I dug deep into myself, thinking about this question, and clearly understood that I wouldn't even lose my appetite from such a thing. Intellectually, I understood that it was kind of immoral, but there was no emotional response. In the end, I decided to rely on chance and give the guy a chance to determine his own future. In essence, everything depended on the impression he would make on me when we met in person. Cruel, I don't argue, but honest and without any hiding behind circumstances.

 Now Takson had already "died", "choked on carbon monoxide", and would soon be charred at a table in the product warehouse, surrounded by a still life of empty bottles and cheap canned food for snacks. The fact that I was not sure which scenario to work on did not mean that these scenarios were not prepared. In fact, for the current one I needed a corpse of a man of about the same build as Takson. But one corpse was not enough, it was necessary to prepare documents, a history, preferably a face, however... Ashes spoiled not only local engineers, but also doctors. They did not know how to do plastic surgery here, even at the level of skin grafting and scar reduction, and there is nothing to say about any changes in the shape of the nose and the oval of the face. However, there were no problems with the rest - there were our own people in the police, in the administration and in the hospital, so a couple of calls, a couple of transfers of a thousand or one and a half lien - and in three days all the databases are ready, just insert the client's photo. Actually, they will insert it right now, as soon as they correct it in Photoshop.

 Twitch... We had just come out "through the wall" and, using the illusion as cover, started to move away from the scene of the incident when the girl tugged at my sleeve. By the way, this was one of the reasons why Roman was so calmly walking around everywhere in his flashy outfit, which I was now using, without fear of being recognized and captured. It's very difficult to recognize and capture a guy you don't see point-blank until he decides to make a spectacular appearance. It's at restricted facilities like Beacon that there's always the danger of running into Hunters with a good sense of smell or an unpleasant Manifestation, and the security systems there force you to be on edge all the time, while on a city street, no one cares about the faces of random passersby anyway.

 "What, my dear?" I turn my face to Neo.

 – (^_^), – she smiled, but then returned to the matter. A characteristic click on the throat, – (Х_Х)… (–_-)… (>_>)?

 - Hmm, you mean to say that they won't find any traces of alcohol in that charred corpse? Come on, no one is going to conduct an expensive examination for a completely obvious case, you know how our valiant law enforcement officers treat their work. Well, and if they do, they'll also find traces of fire ashes on the shelves, and the absence of money in the safe, and the fact that the store did not close on schedule, then the working version will be a robbery with a murder, which they tried to disguise as an accident. If our mutual friend has her own people in the Vale police, then this version is exactly what she wants to see.

 – (^_^).