"Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz." The insistent buzzing vibrated from within the pocket of my trousers, the same ones I hadn't managed to shed before my consciousness surrendered to Morpheus' embrace the night before.
"Just a little longer, please. Let me sleep. I was having such a wonderful dream. Ugh," I mumbled sleepily, yawning. "Joe, may Pazuzu haunt your dreams. Not only did you keep me up all night, but your clients are bothering me in the morning too."
The sun peeked through the blinds, painting whimsical patterns on the wall. The smell of coffee and fried bacon faintly tickled my nostrils. But all this paled in comparison to the desire to sink back into the warm cocoon of sleep.
My roommate, Jonathan McGuire, or simply Joe as we called him, was a real hurricane that burst into our measured student life at the beginning of this academic year. Having come to us on an exchange program from some American college, he turned our modest dorm room into the epicenter of parties and adventures from day one.
Tall, athletic, with tanned skin, blue eyes, and luxurious brown hair, Joe attracted girls' gazes like a magnet. He had a Hollywood smile and charisma that none of my classmates could resist. Moreover, this Casanova was the life of the party, always ready for jokes, pranks, and crazy ideas.
Yesterday, for example, we celebrated his birthday. And this rascal tried to get me drunk! Can you imagine, the naive guy thought that if I don't drink, then a couple of shots of whiskey and a mug of moonshine would knock me off my feet. He himself only sipped, smiling slyly. Oh, if he only knew that alcohol doesn't affect me, he wouldn't be so happy when I, "faint", sang "Oh, in the meadow" with him. Well, I like to joke, I just need to remember to post this video on YouTube, I think it will become a real hit among his fans.
It's never boring with McGuire, although sometimes his hyperactivity and thirst for adventure cause headaches not only for me but also for our entire course. But despite all his antics, he is a kind and sincere guy, always ready to help. And, importantly, he has an amazing ability to find wealthy clients for my small practice of manual therapy.
Where does he even find them? I wish they didn't call so early. But they can be understood: when you are tormented by pain, you will call everyone in a row. Okay, I'm getting up, time is money. And today - quite a lot of money.
I got out of bed and stretched, feeling my joints crack. A quick glance at the clock – time is running out. Today for breakfast, scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. Fast and nutritious.
Joe was already bustling in the kitchen, humming something to himself and tossing pancakes in the air.
Joe [https://lh7-us.googleusercontent.com/TqyT7UrpWzFslsiJzowEuikLdqtNrBIxrzo0i7S8cTpy9Qp2fhx9YJrgvLx8Zjx5abRbjQjsc73qx_o7PiD3RQ5x-B6aB0alsmkXkcE-DVexTWFXJW8KL9isuVxidRL3sQLnE20PUvVaWR9eFSurg64]
"Good morning, sunshine! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I smiled, starting to cook the eggs.
"Oh, dude, it was an epic night! But why did you drink so little? I tried for you, I got the best moonshine!" Joe clutched his heart theatrically, feigning offense.
"You know I can't. But thanks for taking care," I winked at him, putting the eggs on a plate.
After breakfast – a short workout. Ten minutes of intense exercise to get the blood flowing and prepare the body for an active day. I feel a pleasant fatigue in my muscles and a surge of energy.
A quick shower to wash away the remnants of sleep and sweat after exercise. Cold water invigorates and refreshes.
I get dressed, grab my bag of tools, and run out of the apartment. Today I'm wearing dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a light jacket. My hair is pulled back in a ponytail, with light stubble on my face. An ordinary guy looks at me in the mirror, nothing betrays a magician with a thousand years of experience in him.
The subway, as always, is crowded. I try to abstract myself from the noise and crush, focusing on the sensations of my body and the flow of prana.
"One more stop, and I'm there," I think to myself, feeling a slight excitement before meeting a new patient. This time with a pinched nerve in the shoulder girdle. I usually work with Chinese needles, but this time a regular massage will be enough. I learned how to adjust discs even before Babylon, in my first life.
Why don't I heal with magic? Yes, in this world magic is just a fairy tale, a forgotten dream. The Anomaly draws out any energy outside my aura. I discovered this many years ago. It seems to evaporate. Living silver can still conduct it somehow, which I use when working with acupuncture, but with mana – no way.
It's good that the first teacher showed me how to work with prana. Accumulate it, circulate it, transform it into mana and back. Few magicians knew how to work with this type of energy, it was more respected by warriors. Maybe because it required active movements? But my teacher said: "If you lose a loved one because you ran out of energy, you will curse three times the day you decided not to get acquainted with the techniques of controlling prana." There were a couple more intricate swear words, but the meaning was exactly that. And it's good that I learned that lesson.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I had to go to the other end of the city, to a residential area. You can walk along the street here like in Disneyland – there are only fairy-tale castles all around, well, and giant fences, where can you go without them now. Moreover, the richer the master lives in the house, the higher he makes the fence. So, probably, for thieves, so that they know where the best jackpot is.
There is security at the entrance to the quarter, but they let me through without delay, they even nodded affably – I'm almost one of their own here.
"Good morning, madam," I greeted the woman who opened the door for me at the address indicated in the message. The charming woman was well over thirty, but high-quality cosmetics and other medical procedures did not allow to understand "how far". A light robe, high-quality perfume, cosmetics, I wouldn't have seen how the corners of the woman's lips twitched with an unsuccessful movement – I would have thought that I was invited not for treatment.
"Good morning, Alex, come in," the woman stepped back, letting me into the luxurious hall. Her voice was soft, with a slight tremor that betrayed the pain she was trying to hide.
The hall was impressive in its size and splendor. The snow-white marble floor reflected a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were decorated with paintings by famous artists, and in the corner stood a white piano, as if inviting to play.
"Serious people recommended you as a wonderful specialist in manual therapy. I hope they were not mistaken?" she asked, trying to keep her back straight, although every movement was given to her with a grimace of pain.
"No, they were not mistaken, madam. Do you have a stool, or some other chair without a back?" - it seems that my question confused the hostess of the house.
"A stool? Not a massage table? Original. Well, follow me, I'll take you to the kitchen." - turning around and slowly and majestically, as if every unsuccessful step did not respond with unbearable pain, the hostess led me along the corridors of this palace.
So, as I thought, the patient has ordinary sciatica. People say "the disc popped out". I realized this when I took the lady's hand, helping her to sit down correctly. Having seated the lady on a stool and asked her to put her hands behind her neck in a lock and demonstrating the correct breathing technique, I put my hands under hers so that my palms rested against her hands. On the patient's exhalation, I adjusted the "disc" with a sharp jerk.
image [https://c10.patreonusercontent.com/4/patreon-media/p/post/103473693/0ff81b717ba74b90b817da28e4394d5e/eyJ3ZWJwIjowfQ%3D%3D/1.jpg?token-time=1718841600&token-hash=PYeSm4qjjDhu1-hCHNMByj3J4H-tyWB6ouCDDo1r_hM%3D]
After the procedure, I prescribed bed rest for the ward for a month, without sudden movements, so that everything would heal, otherwise there would be a relapse. Having received a kiss on the cheek from a joyful lady and payment for treatment on the card, I hurried to leave the luxurious apartment.
That's it, you can move on. Of course, it only looks simple from the outside, in fact, without skill and a correctly diagnosed diagnosis, you can paralyze the patient. I don't have problems with diagnoses, it's enough to direct crumbs of my life force into the patient's body, and he is like in the palm of my hand. And the ability to see the aura helps.
Heh, I have a good income, but the university will not wait, and the professors will not pay attention to my noble motives. Therefore - hands in feet and forward!
I left the luxurious quarter, breathing in the fresh spring air. The sky was bright blue, and the sun was pleasantly warm. Young leaves rustled underfoot, creating a cozy atmosphere.
"There are two ways to get to the university: either the longer, but safer one - the main streets, or the shorter one - through the abandoned park and alleys," I thought, checking the schedule on my phone.
"Should I risk it or not? There are still forty minutes before the start of the lesson. If I'm lucky, I'll make it. And if not, then I'll skip physiology, it's okay, I'll catch up," I decided, choosing a short path.
The park greeted me with silence and desolation. Once upon a time there were probably beautiful alleys and a playground, but now everything is overgrown with weeds and shrubs. The benches were mutilated, and garbage was scattered around. A gloomy picture.
"I wish I had chosen the long way," I thought, quickening my pace.
From the park I went out into a narrow alley, sandwiched between the high walls of houses. The sun hardly got here, so it was damp and cold. Graffiti and torn posters were visible on the walls. The feeling is not pleasant.
"Just a little more, and I'll be on the main street," I reassured myself, trying not to pay attention to the unpleasant sensations.
"Hey, dude, do you have a light?!" - sounded from the side in a smoky voice.
I stopped abruptly, scanning the alley with my eyes. Three came out of the garbage cans – two broad-shouldered burly guys and one skinny one, like a rat. All three were dressed in tracksuits and had the characteristic appearance of gopniks.
"Guys, what cigarettes, I'm..." - I began to talk to the gopniks, actively shifting to the left, but the right attacker's hook, from which I had to urgently bend down, prevented me from finishing. The boy hurried, the other two had not yet managed to approach the distance of the blow.
"Too predictable," I thought, using his momentum to knock him down with a sweep. The gopnik fell heavily on the asphalt, breaking his lip on the pavement.
The second one rushed at me with a swing. I dodged the blow and made a quick counterattack – an elbow to the solar plexus. The air rushed out of his lungs with a noise, and he bent in half, clutching his stomach.
"There's one left," I thought, preparing for the attack of the last gopnik. He was clearly scared, but still decided to attack.
"Well, let's play," I smiled to myself, using the "wavering vine" technique – dodging the blows, I made him lose his balance, and then with a sharp movement blocked his leg and sent him flying to the nearest wall.
The gopniks were neutralized. I looked at the first one, who was lying unconscious. He seemed to have a broken jaw.
"I need to call an ambulance," I thought, taking out my phone.
And then the breath of danger burned my back. I tried to dodge, but I didn't have time - something heavy and massive flew into the back of my head. A brick? A flash of pain and darkness.
"Is this the end?" - the last thought flashed before I fell into the abyss of oblivion.