Savik watched the video from the seventh camera with a heavy heart. "He's naked?" exclaimed the investigator Nikita standing next to him with widened eyes.

"Yes," Savik sighed. "That's exactly how they left him outside the burned down club."

"Looks like a high-level spider," Nikita observed. "If it weren't for the protective field, he would have already blown up the entire building!"

"I know," Savik said. "And someone just took this monster and threw him on the street! I think 'Happiness' hired him after recent events, but their enemies turned out to be too good. I just hope they don't send their best team to Moscow after this."

"Penguin? He gives me goosebumps," Nikita admitted, not taking his eyes off the captive. He had never seen such a powerful prisoner in the Igiga department before and couldn't handle it. "I wonder how they caught him?"

"If I knew, do you think I would be sitting here for so many years?" Savik snapped. "And forget about the spider - the security team already called and said they're taking over the case. By the way, what's the status on your assignments?"

"We exhumed the body of that gangster - and you were right, there was no body at the scene!" Nikita's gaze dimmed for a moment, but then flared up again. "I sent out alerts for all his acquaintances, we'll search for connections to our events!"

"And nothing came up?"

"Just an ordinary person," Nikita shook his head. "Except that he went to China quite often, but according to neighbors, that's how he earned his living. Bought there, sold here, like a modern merchant."

"A merchant, you say? Well, I guess that's how we'll record him in the case," Savik pondered for a moment, then pulled up a recent message from a representative of 'Happiness' on his phone.

"What's this?" Nikita asked, trying to extract the main point from the neatly typed text.

"Unofficial results of the corporation's investigation," Savik replied. "They don't admit it officially, but unofficially, they caught one of the 'rats.' And during questioning, he told them in detail how one of the attackers on their squad wore a full steel mask."

"Steel? Not an artifact like the Igigas?"

"Exactly," Savik nodded. "So now we have two threads leading to the East, and it would be foolish not to follow them. Understand all our connections, we'll look for every unusual guest who decided to visit us. And they'll have to answer all of our questions!"

"Absolutely!" Nikita nodded confidently, trying not to react to the vibrating phone in his pocket.

His new acquaintance was quite impatient, which could be slightly annoying, but her long fingers, black as tar, her unique eyes, and the dress she wore, as red as a setting sun, were enough to make him overlook any idiosyncrasies.

***

"Father!" The younger Orlov stood before the head of the family, his hands hanging limply by his sides.

"You've brought shame to our family..." The senior representative of the "Happiness" corporation was contemplating how the new reputational losses would affect his work, and more importantly, his income – the money that so many families generously paid to win the favor of his employers.

"I...," the viscount bit his lip. "I thought it was a good opportunity to establish a relationship with Camilla, especially since she's the adopted daughter of the..."

The younger Orlov didn't finish his sentence. Some things shouldn't be voiced even at home.

"You should have realized you were being used!"

"It was obvious. But a service rendered is a service rendered, and if my opponent had died, his blood would have bound us to this service."

"But he didn't die..."

"It's not over yet," the younger Orlov's eyes glittered. "The terms of the duel were until first blood, and there was none. Whatever happens to me, whatever Myshkin did, the code is now on my side."

"Don't underestimate him," the former count threw a paper from the hospital on the table where the viscount was being treated.

He leaned over it, scanned it quickly, and then winced, stopping at the words "anal bleeding". His enemy had really thought of everything.

"What if we erase all traces of this paper?"

"The Romanovs are interested in it. The results are already in their possession, and if you act too aggressively, he might get offended."

The viscount shuddered. Legends about how members of the royal family could take revenge abounded. But his father was right – if he acted too aggressively... But carefully, gradually... A tactic of a thousand cuts, perhaps not as fast, but the result would be the same. A commoner wouldn't stand a chance.

***

"What's up?" Arya pulled up and stopped behind me.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I found this interesting fabric," I turned around on the chair and showed her the suit I took off the fly guy yesterday. "I don't have a lab here, but even so... It looks so ordinary at first glance, you could even poke a finger through it! But it stretches like chewing gum, and its resistance to high temperatures is off the charts."

"And it impressed you so much yesterday that you even took off the guy's underwear?" Arya chuckled.

"Valera immediately noticed that they were made of the same material, but of much higher quality. It would have been foolish to refuse the opportunity to evaluate this fabric in motion. I didn't like the process of collecting it, of course, but now we can at least break down all the clothing into molecules in our 3D printer and reassemble it into something more suitable."

I gave Arya a meaningful look, and she understood.

"Absolute stretch?"

"Exactly! We'll make you underwear that works day and night. And if we succeed, we'll also work on a dress," I nodded importantly.

For a few seconds, there was a tense silence in the air, and then my usually cold sister extended her arms and either hugged me or fell on me - I couldn't tell which.

"You have no idea how much I hate it when it's windy there!" She whispered in my ear. Then her hand slid down my body somewhere, and I felt goosebumps run all over me as Arya suddenly shouted, "What's this?"

She pointed to a pair of batons with a beautiful black coating that I picked up from ordinary security guards.

"Stun batons," I shook my head. "You see, when it's in your hand and the palm covers the special contact, the baton starts to charge. Either from our static or from the atmosphere, it's still unclear. And then..."

I waited a couple of moments until the steel started to prick the skin, and then tightened my grip, activating another sensor. At that moment, the baton unfolded, stretching almost two meters, and electric arcs ran along the top edge.

"Beautiful," Arya's eyes gleamed dreamily.

"We'll also take it apart and rework it to suit us," I nodded, then looked at my watch.

It was time to head to the mall - it was time to find out how the dispute between Fat Sam and the girl with the pastries would end... Although now I know her name - Camilla. I tried it and it somehow reminded me of cinnamon.

***

The Blue Whale had lived in his apartment since he got his first promotion and moved out of the mercenary barracks. Although he used to dream of living in the center of the corporate districts or in one of the aristocratic estates, he knew it was time to leave after the failure with "Happiness" and almost being eaten by a fox-werewolf.

He tore off a piece of wallpaper and removed several bricks to reveal a niche he had made to keep a flash drive tied to the account where he transferred most of his earnings, which amounted to almost ten million rubles. After putting the flash drive in a specially sewn wallet, he chose a more decent suit from his wardrobe, and left without bothering to close the door. Whale believed that luck would soon turn in his favor.

However, as he was about to order a ticket to the capital and a taxi to the airport, he was distracted by the noise coming from the newly built shopping center nearby. There were robot armor fights playing on a huge screen above the entrance, and one of them was just like Whale's. Unable to resist, he joined the stream of people heading towards the shopping center and went inside.

Whale was amazed by the shopping center. Unlike other stores, there were no narrow passages. It felt like he was just walking down the street, except now there was a glass roof above and three-dimensional illusions of ancient lizards flying underneath it. Although there was nothing special about the shopping rows, the atmosphere was amazing. Whale realized that the people around him were genuinely happy, not out of fear, or because they were forced to, or because it was written in the corporate code.

Whale shook his head and saw the screen with the robot armor again. This time, there was text too. "The Battle of Fat Sam and Camilla, the Pastry Queen, for the title of Salesperson of the Month..." Whale blinked several times, rubbed his eyes, and reread what he saw. It was unbelievable that this was a shopping center where salespeople were going to fight in combat robots! As most people were just smiling and getting ready to watch the show, Whale noticed something else.

The Blue Whale couldn't resist reaching for the flash drive in his pocket on his chest. It was fate that brought him here today and led him to the girl that some former nightclub guests had spoken of. How many other shoppers knew who she truly was? Who would dare to place a bet on a woman rather than a man? A satisfied smile spread across Whale's face. Luck was on his side, and he'd increase his capital soon.

He found one of the bookmaker's trusted representatives in a flash, who took the ten-million-ruble bet with a stony face, issuing a promissory note with the royal seal. Whale tried not to worry as he approached the screen. The fighters in their robo-suits had just come out. Camilla's suit was red, and Fat Sam's was white. Whale looked closely at the guy's face when the camera zoomed in - no, he was definitely just an ordinary guy, which meant there was no way he could win!

"So, let's reintroduce our fighters!" a vaguely familiar voice took on the role of the announcer. "Take a look at the fierce Pastry Queen's face - you can see she's ready to tear apart any enemy. And Fat Sam, a simple guy who learned to fight in a mech just for fun!"

Whale was sure that the expressions on the fighters' faces didn't convey that at all, but he didn't care about the details. The crowd responded to the presentation with a satisfied roar.

"I'll remind you of the bets!" the announcer declared. "If our Sweet Butt Queen wins, she'll get a year of free rent and lunch with the noble owner of the Gray Friend. Fat Sam, on the other hand, demanded that his opponent work naked for a whole day instead of lunch!" The crowd screamed, and the announcer continued, "Agreed, not the most fair condition, but those are his principles, and since he's ready to fight for them, we can't help but support this simple guy from booth forty-three!"

The screams grew louder, and the faces of the future opponents redder. Whale realized that, despite his confidence in Camilla's victory, he was starting to get nervous for some reason. But after placing such a bet, he should have dispelled his last doubts.

"We're starting the countdown!" the announcer shouted. "Nine! Ten! Eleven! Two! One! Let's go! Show us what you and your mechs are made of! Are you warriors or just scrappy mutts?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before the sound of thousands of voices and the roar of two turbocharged engines filled the air. Whale waited as the red mech launched ahead.

"Individual engines for the hands and feet, maximum maneuverability and strength, but a novice wouldn't be able to handle such a combination," the former mercenary said, relaxing. "But that girl is actually good. Only a couple of people in our squad could work at her level."

As expected, Fat Sam lagged behind in the start, but at least he had the sense to go on defense. Whale noticed how he set up a block and began to charge it with energy from his reactor. Sensible, but useless. The power of one engine could never compare to four - it was simple math that even a child could understand. The red mech unleashed a shockwave, surrounded by a storm of static electricity.

"I came, I saw..." Whale trailed off.

The shield around Fat Sam's mech flared up several times brighter than it should have, and then Camilla was thrown to the side as if by an explosion. Whale paled. He couldn't understand what had happened, and neither could anyone else. And that flash during the hit, which made it impossible to see anything.

"Take note of the armor modification Fat Sam made," the announcer spoke again, and everyone in the shopping center listened. Not a single whisper could be heard. "Now the camera will zoom in, and unfortunately, you will see the power cable that he used to connect his armor to a stationary power source. It limits his maneuverability, but on the other hand, he was able to make his shield several times more powerful, something that our Pastry Queen couldn't handle! But wait, what is he doing? Come on, Sam, let's focus on the fight, not the pastries-butts!"

Whale's attention was fixed on the screen, watching as Fat Sam pummeled his opponent with his fists. Whale knew that this was Camilla's last chance, and her opponent's confusion was not helping matters. He had not used his guns or any other power-requiring weapons, just regular punches.

"Stop talking about my pastries!" Camilla shouted, suddenly turning on her back.

Whale whistled as he saw Sam use a circular strike, transferring energy to one part of his robot suit and releasing it in a thin beam, cutting through everything in its path. The shield held up, but the cable Camilla was aiming for was sliced in two, and the glow around Sam began to fade.

"Pastry Queen! Let's go!" the crowd yelled, and Whale found himself joining in without realizing it.

"Don't give up! You're a master! Raw power is nothing!" Whale yelled.

A girl in a wheelchair snickered mockingly, and Sam pulled out his sword. He swung it clumsily at Camilla, directing the remaining energy into it. Whale clenched his fists, hoping that Camilla would dodge it. However, her instincts worked against her this time.

The sound of broken armor, black smoke, and the loud voice of the announcer filled the room. "The decisive blow hits its target! The winner of the duel is Fat Sam! He will be able to collect his prize personally from the owner of the 'Grey Friend', and for everyone else... I remind you that the Pastry Queen will be working at point number twenty-nine all day!"

The screen switched to a commercial for the shopping center, and the crowd rushed towards the exit. Whale stood still and stared ahead, feeling like a sleepwalker. He had just lost the biggest bet of his life and had no idea how or why it happened. On his way out, he passed by the losing girl's work area.

Whale snapped out of his daze for a moment, noticing the aristocratic girl standing there almost naked, covered only in a thin layer of whipped cream. "The conditions are met, but..." Whale sighed heavily, feeling like he had been dealt another blow of bad luck.