My Path to Magic 2: A Combat Alchemist

My Path to Magic 2: A Combat Alchemist Read Online Free PDF

Book: My Path to Magic 2: A Combat Alchemist Read Online Free PDF
Author: Irina Syromyatnikova
resist and snorted: yeah, salaried! To get any money from those misers was simply not realistic.
    "What do you have in common with Sam?"
    "Nothing!" Quarters attempted to jump to his feet, but he clearly overestimated his strength and fell back, blinking torpidly. "He fawned on me, invited me to visit his friends. It took me some time to realize what kind of people they were."
    "I told you he stank as an artisan. You should have listened to the smart man!"
    Ron lacked the strength to quarrel; I even thought that he lost his consciousness again.  Suddenly Quarters tugged my sleeve: "Will you kill them?"
    "Do you want me to be tried by a tribunal? Let your daddy deal with them when they are jailed."
    If memory served me well, the penalty for kidnapping was very severe in Ingernika.  Plus the charge of organized crime and possession of weapons. Enough for them, if they remained sane after meeting Rustle .
    "Sorry."
    Quarters' apology testified that he was very ill.
    "Forget it ." To be angry with a cripple would be a sin.
    A rapid response team came in about ten minutes, in a squat paramilitary van that desperately sneezed and stank of alcohol.  Their senior rushed up to me: "Sergeant Quinto. What's happening?"
    I pointed to the door: "There are six artisans and Rustle .  This is Ronald Rest, he was kidnapped by them."
    "Get a healer here!"
    The "cleaners", in the blue radiance of their protective amulets, broke into the warehouse door.  Naturally, Rustle had already gone.  Soon arrived a van harnessed by horses; it was the healers' coach. They lit up charmed light fixtures and started carrying the artisans on stretchers out of the warehouse.  The gray-haired boss of the artisans squealed high-pitchedly.
    "There are only five, where is one more? "
    " Have you looked in the attic?" I asked the squad's team lead.
    "He will need a tighter container."
    A shadow o f satisfaction reached my mind; the monster had both fun and a dinner.  What kind of a creature was he? I never thought that the otherworldly were able to behave sensibly, and no books ever talked about it.  In theory, Rustle's response to the incident should be just situational; with age and experience the behavioral patterns of the otherworldly were becoming more complex, but they were incapable of analysis and planning. If not for that, killing them would be virtually impossible.  I needed to re-examine this issue in more detail, since Rustle and I were destined to stay together till the end of my life.  I deserved to obtain at least some perks from my work at NZAMIPS!
    A wave of q uite unexpected images rolled over me - Rustle complained about his life.  It turned out that the creature faced increasing difficulty in finding the right magicians to be in contact with because of all the secrecy and precaution.  He did not like rapidly decaying corpses: the images in their minds were not so clear to him.  He was sad and lonely, and I did not treat him nicely: I frightened and swore at him.
    I wasn't going to pity the creature ! After all, if he had had a chance, he would have eaten me in a bit. And I was supposed to be polite and understanding?!  Like hell I would be!
    The monster became offended and disappeared.  What a joke: the otherworldly with morality and a subtle spiritual body!
    I kept the word I had given to Shorty Sam - to bring Ron back tonight - though I delivered him to a hospital, not to his home.  Well, this was minor detail. The result of my venture was the direct opposite of what I had in mind: I would not beat up Quarters in the near future.  Logically reasoning, I failed to jostle away the bad luck, and my life was supposed to nosedive now…

Chapter 3
    N othing bad happened next week, letting me think that my deeds at the warehouse would bear no punishment, and I amused myself by reading Redstone's newspapers.  What magical herb inspired scribblers to write such texts? It seemed that the articles were authored by artisans, because
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