Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (6)
After a light snack and a bit of beer, I cast my gaze over the corpses. As always, the meal had a positive effect on me. But the thought of searching the bodies felt downright lazy. On the other hand, why put myself in danger of catching lice and working in person when I could watch others do it? With that thought in mind, I set the mug down on the table and, once again unsheathing Yatsufusa, touched the blade to the body of the one-eyed "pirate." Closing my eyes and focusing on my spiritual perception, I watched with interest as my energy was absorbed by the Teigu and, mixed with the artifact's power, filled the previously lifeless body, bestowing it with a semblance of life.
"Clearly, nothing is clear," I grumbled to myself and opened my eyes.
It seems nothing complicated, but if one-eye had not died from teigu, it would not have been possible to raise him. Out of curiosity, confirming the already known information, I tried to lift the redhead, who had just punched a lung, and then broke his neck. As expected, it didn't work out. The energy, having begun to fill the body, flowed further into the void: apparently, the soul of this corpse had already managed to escape.
"Hmm, why did the 'pirate' who died from Yatsufusa politely wait for the necromancer, while the impolite pedophile fled? Interesting. I should try creating a puppet in meditation."
Returning the sword to its sheath and stroking my chin, I began to contemplate how to go about it more conveniently. While in a trance, I couldn't feel or control my own body, which posed some difficulties when it came to killing a victim and then manifesting the idea.
"Hmm," not coming to any specific conclusions, I popped another piece of cheese into my mouth and, taking a sip from my mug, shifted my gaze to its former owner. The pirate with the eyepatch was still lying on the ground. His single eye looked indifferently at his killer and his current mistress. "Why are we just lying here? Who are we waiting for?" I took a sip from the mug and looked at the unresponsive non-dead guy. "It's time to get to work, idlers, the sun hasn't set yet..." a glance at the moon: "Uh, doesn't matter, anyway - work!"
The zombie dragged the bodies aside, retrieved the valuables they no longer needed, and set off to rummage through their former hideout. I lazily observed the process and sipped beer with cheese. Yatsufusa remained in its sheath, and the fact that it didn't affect the marionette's performance lifted my spirits as much as the snack did. Now, with a more solid connection to the Teigu, I didn't need to hold the sword to transmit and receive energy.
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At least some good news. As a result, my melancholy was almost gone.
I touched a point just above the center of my chest, where I felt a faint immaterial chill. After taking another sip, I gazed pensively at the moon emerging from behind the clouds. If my memory serves me correctly, it was in this place that General Esdes had a certain sigil after drinking her teigu-blood. And a similar phenomenon occurred with the hapless revolutionary Tatsumi when he started mutating into a monster under the influence of his own artifact. Some sort of energy node?
My temporary servant didn't find anything interesting on the bodies of our comrades. However, the miniature chrome pistol that the one-eyed pirate had pulled out from his sleeve many times outweighed all the other loot put together in terms of value. I had already decided that the lady's pistol was the most valuable trophy, but when I peeked into the leather pouch that the "pirate" had placed next to the cheap jewelry he had dragged from the hideout, I realized I was wrong.
Examining the set consisting of a gold necklace with emeralds, matching earrings, and small wristwatches, all encrusted with small green stones, I concluded that the gang had managed to rob the wife or daughter of a wealthy merchant or aristocrat.
Not all those who fancied themselves adventurers were as lucky as Eris. Ending your journey in a sewage pit as a repeatedly raped body with gouged-out eyes was a typical outcome of seeking adventure.
I surveyed the loot with dissatisfaction. While the jewelry was probably more expensive than the miniature pistol, in terms of uselessness, it surpassed it by far. Although stocks do not pull the pocket, especially if this pocket was spatial. I could probably give these trinkets to Akira; she seemed to like such things. I could keep the watch for myself, but wearing it on my wrist would mean breaking it in the first battle. Besides, I didn't like their style; I would have preferred rubies instead of emeralds. Overall, it would be better to acquire a pocket watch like Natal's.
Summoning my largest and most imposing marionette, I handed the nearly three-meter giant a bag of the meager loot. The cheap copper and silver trinkets, along with the rest of the junk, remained in their place. It would be a gift for the first person to find it.
Ten minutes later, I comfortably made my way to the hotel. My mode of transportation, which also served as a scarecrow and a porter, was the summoned giant. Why did I decide to return in such an extravagant manner? Well, why not? Riding on two-legged Bucephalus, I would definitely avoid getting into the mud or facing bandits. The mood to observe street life or get involved in anything had completely evaporated, so I might as well enjoy the ride. A few blocks away from the hotel, I would dismiss the "horse" along with the loot without drawing too much attention and return on foot.
With its three-meter height, the face of a menacing Neanderthal, broad shoulders covered by a leather vest, and long arms that reached almost to its knees, my marionette successfully kept all the ragtag people at a distance, which was precisely what I needed. And this is considering the fact that I patched up the numerous wounds of the puppet, which she received during the transition from the living state to the undead, and which regenerated in the spatial pocket. Otherwise, people would not have shunned us, but fled with screams of horror.
"This is not the smile of fate, but some kind of mockery," I thought to myself as I stood at the entrance of the appropriately named establishment. I really wanted to believe that this world didn't have its own Moirai, as their sense of humor was probably even darker than mine.