บท 3: Strange Hiring
Moscow, 19:38 (local time)
When the job was done I called the hirer.
The agent of The Association came quickly, took the necromancer and went away.
Don't even want to know what the Assosiation is going to do to him. Though I don't like them for being to bossy, they always take down all noise makers.
I went back to the hotel and fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.
On the next day I went to Riga. There I did some sightseeings, bought a bottle of Riga Black Balsam[1] for the Bruce and then rushed to the airport.
When I arrived to Moscow I was happy beyond measure. With the money I got from the last job I could go for quite a long vacation. I entered my flat murmuring something from old Soviet rock. Suddenly something got my attention.
Without slightest hesitation I threw a knife towards the shadowy figure in the dark corner of the room. It flew through it as if there were nothing.
"A projection?"
"Did anyone teach you to knock before you enter one's house?" – I asked the figure.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Sheremetyev, but this is the only way I can contact with you" – answered the figure.
I dropped my bag and demonstratively started making coffee.
"What exactly you wanted from me?"
"I have a job for you."
"Really? Then I have to disappoint you. Since this day I go on vacation. For a month or more. I can give you the phone number of Boris Brusov. He'll find a freelancer for you."
"But you even didn't listen to my…"
"And I won't. Even if you will give me job somewhere around Mediterranian."
"No. I was thinking about Japan…"
I gave him a "are-you-kidding-me?" look.
"Not… in-ter-es-ted. Not in money, nor in in places."
"And if I allow you to finish something you had started long ago?" – suddenly asked the guest when I was looking for my cup.
"And what exactly?" – I asked ready to throw a lightning in him.
"Do you remember Alexey Orlov?"
"As if this freak can be forgotten. Bu he is dead for…" – I stumbled for a second. – "Six years".
"And if I say that he is still alive?"
I almost dropped down the cattle with boiling water.
"Impossible" – I cut off all the arguments. – "I killed him with those very hands."
I waved with my glorious limbs.
"Unfortunately, you kill beasts better than magi." – he stretched his hand (in gloves, by the way) and showed me a photo. – "Not a photoshop. It was taken about a week ago, in Japan"
"Decided to check out what a maid-café is. What's yours concern?"
He sighed.
"What do you know about the Holy Grail?"
The question struck me as if a lightning of my own.
"Rumors. An Almighty chalice that grants every wish."
"Something like this. But in order to get it, one should win the Holy Grail War."
"Really? A war?" – I sipped the coffee.
"Yes. Seven strong magi join a combat where the strongest wins."
"Ha-ha-ha... Then you got the wrong address. Do you know what "artefacter" means? It's a magus with minimum power, that relies on things with high magic to stay competent. This..." – I played with electricity between my fingers, – "is my maximum."
"And don't you want to avenge the one who is responsible for this?"
"I thought that I already had."
"Then I have a proposal for you. I triple you standard fee, half – right now, plus I roll all your expenses. And your chance to avenge, of course. Your task will be to join the war. If you win the Grail, you will give it to me, then I'll give you the rest of the sum. If you loose but stay alive, you may keep the money you've got.
I took a long gulp, thinking.
"And if I simply go there myself?"
He giggled.
"You don't know, where exactly. Just like all the secrets behind the war."
"True…"
I fell in faraway thoughts.
I really thought that had killed this guy. One stab to repay for all the pain he caused. I felt pain in my left hand, the memory of those days.
But the most important was that Holy Grail. If that freak gets it…
In this situation there was only one answer I could give.
…
Moscow, 12:30.
"YOU DID WHAT?!"
A loud roar thundered in the backroom of a respectable antique shop. But thank God (or, rather magic) didn't go outside.
The roarer is Boris Brusov, also known as the Bruce. The nickname he got for a reason. Being a distant heir of Jacob Bruce, an artillerist and a great magus hired by Peter the Great, he is one of the most respectable person both in Association and outside it in Russia. What is more important, he is the leader of half-independent trade union of monster hunters, once a famous monster hunter himself, now he is a collectioner of artifacts of old times and my former teacher.
"What the hell you were thinking about? A freak from nowhere with his name "Nothing" comes to you and asks to put your head in a hell's pot, and YOU gladly agree, as if it were your greatest fetish! Why the crap do you believe that Orlov is really alive?"
"I am not sure, but I should check it."
"I should" – he mocked me. – My boy, if I've been doing everything I should, I wouldn't have stood here!"
It took about half an hour for Bruce to calm down. Though rather strict, he is caring. He was my second father after…
Khem, left hand aches once again.
Bruce taught me everything, gave me the first contract. He has the right to worry when it goes about my past.
"Sure you want it? If I were you, I'd send this whole story faraway and went to Dominicana, drink cocktails served by young charming maidens… But if you are here. you have decided, am' right?"
"Yeah."
"Then there is no hope to discuss, as far as I know you. As usual?"
I gave a deep thought.
"As usual" means: bolts for crossbows, normal, explosive, armor-piercing, magic piercing, smoke ones with black powder inside to escape. Throwing knives, normal, silver, explosive. Medikits, strings for crossbows. Other mostly depends on the situation.
"Got something against creatres of pure magic?" – I asked.
"Hmf, wait a second…"
He hid in his workroom for some time and then came back with something in his hands.
"Here. Famous Church Black Keys. They use them against all kind of freaky stuff. Don't even ask me, where I got them, just bring them back after the whole story end. And this" – he pointed on two diamonds – "a small gift of an old friend. There is freaking load of magic energy in each. You can explode them just like your bolts, but the explosion would be devastating."
"THAT I can feel myself."
I gave another thought.
"Is Gustav somewhere around? I would "upload" Japanese".
"No, but he will transfer through Moscow tomorrow. I'll call him and ask whether he has time."
…
At the same place, one day later.
Gustav Strauf is quite a person. First of all, he is a memory specialized magus. A highly rare skill. But instead of sitting in the legendary sharagas [2] of the Clock Tower, but he worked rather freely. Maybe it was connected with the fact that he always worked in the open, with no "dirty" business unlike some others.
Gustav specialty was in the memory transfer which gave him nickname "USB", which he didn't like at all.
He went into the backroom of the shop with an Asian in formal suit, whom he introduced as "herr Natsumoto". The introduced person bowed in Japanese manner. I answered with the same.
Both of us sat on the chairs in the center of the room back to back to each other.
"Are you ready?" – asked Gustav.
We both gave affirmative answers, after which he placed his hands on our head.
I can hardly tell what happened next. The memory magus says that the problem is in the volume of data he has to transfer. But it seems to me that he also "erases" all the information about his work to keep it safe. Nothing strange here, many magi would literary kill for such technique.
I came to senses on the floor with terrible headache, almost ready to vomit.
"How do you feel?"
"Great…" – I answered, trying to feel as sarcastically as I could. I didn't even notice that both the question and the answer were in Japanese.
"Herr Natsumoto" bowed again, rather clumsy, and want away.
"Here, free of charge" – Gustav took a bottle of painkillers from his pocket and gave to me with a glass of water. – "Headaches will disturb you for some time but then the brain will accustom to new information."
I thanked him in Russian, threw a pill in mouth and gulped down the whole glass.
Now, the preparations are done, tomorrow I go to Fuyuki.
ความคิดของผู้สร้าง 
Paul_deVolpe
Paul_deVolpe 1 - a name of local liquor. Riga balsam is rather famous drink within former USSR
2 - (informal) GULAG research and construction bureau.
YameteAuthorSan wrote: "Seriously i don't now whats happening sorry."
Here comes the first part of explanation. I know that the first chapter was... a bit out of place, but you know, an MC can't go out of thin air. One small observant chapter, and the action begins!
Yours Paul de Volpe.
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