Dima was immediately ejected from the body, and I turned to face a stunned Vasya, who clearly had no idea what to do or who to hit next. After a few moments of hesitation, it seemed to dawn on him that I was the target, and he started toward me—only for Dima to snap back to action.
“Shall we go again?” Dima chuckled, rubbing his nose. Of course, he had stayed in Puzo 1’s body to the last second, so the phantom pain lingered.
“Let’s,” I smirked. “Keep it quiet this time.”
“Got it!” Dima nodded eagerly, launching himself into Vasya as the guard approached.
The last conscious guard didn’t last even a second before completely losing control of his body. Well, naturally—he was just a regular human, not even an Apprentice.
I prepared to repeat my signature move—*fortress* straight to the face—but then footsteps echoed in the corridor again. This time, it was only one person, and they were silent.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” “Vasya” muttered, slapping the baton against his palm. “At this rate, we’re going to take out every one of them, one by one!”
“Not likely,” I shook my head. “If there were a dozen or two of them, maybe we could handle it without getting fancy. But as it stands, they’ll swarm us soon enough. And you won’t hold all of them for long—someone on Markus’s level would crush us with one hand. Literally. So we take this one down quietly and pray no one notices.”
“Understood,” Dima replied mentally. “I’ll take care of it!”
Once again, I lay back on the floor, hiding my brick and feigning the part of a beaten corpse. Among the trio of unconscious guards, I blended in almost seamlessly.
“ARE YOU ALL COMPLETELY INSANE?!” barked a familiar voice as a figure appeared in the doorway. It was the sergeant. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MESS, YOU MORONS?!”
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Hmm, stronger than he looked. A journeyman with six visible, albeit “mediocre,” cores. Nothing extraordinary, but definitely above average. This guy could be a problem if he reacted in time.
“Vasya?!” The sergeant grabbed Dima’s shoulder. “What’s going on here?”
“Brawl,” Dima shrugged.
“What kind of *brawl*?!” the sergeant yelled, gesturing at the downed guards. “What are they even doing here?”
“They came to finish off the weakling,” “Vasya” said, nodding toward me. “Got caught. Valera raised the price, took a punch, so I hit back too. You know, as one does.”
“Good,” the sergeant growled. “I’d have added a few hits myself to put them in their place. They won’t remember it anyway when they wake up!”
“True,” Dima nodded nonchalantly. “So, uh, where do we take them now?”
“Damn it,” the sergeant spat. “What a bunch of cripples… Upstairs, of course. What else can we do? Everyone’s asleep by now, and good luck getting help—no one’s coming for free, especially not for this nonsense. But I’ll make sure they regret this later!”
As usual, Dima let the man step ahead, slipping behind him unnoticed and swinging the baton with full force at the back of his neck. This time, however, something went wrong. The sergeant reacted in time, intercepting the baton mid-swing with a mana-hardened hand. Ah, a “stoneworker,” I see.
The sergeant didn’t even flinch at the blow, but he was clearly furious. Without wasting time on words, he spun around and punched “Vasya” in the liver, hard enough to eject Dima from the body in a flash.
“Max, what the hell?!” Vasya wheezed, suddenly aware and already battered.
Max, however, was smarter than the rest. He likely assumed Vasya’s reaction was some kind of ruse—a “don’t mind me, it was an accident” ploy—and didn’t fall for it. Smart guy. I respect that.
Meanwhile, I quietly stood up and, without any flair, struck the sergeant on the back of the head with my “fortress.” This time, he didn’t have a chance to react, too busy beating his subordinate to notice.
It reminded me of an old joke: “And so old man Maxim died—oh well, who cares!” Though, this Maxim seemed to still be alive. For now, anyway.
“What the…” Vasya managed to stammer, staring at me and my bloodied “fortress” in terror.
“Nothing much,” I laughed, slamming the brick into his face. He slumped to the floor, finally unconscious. “Just taking out the trash.”
“Man, we nailed them!” Dima grinned, his ghostly form hovering nearby. “And no alarms raised, too!”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I nodded, wiping the blood off the brick. “Good work. You’re a natural actor.”
“Thanks!” Dima smirked. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
I nodded again, taking a moment to assess our situation. So, what do we have? Five guards, still alive and full of energy. Time until dawn, at best, before someone notices them missing.
And that’s in the best-case scenario—so no time to waste on draining and disposing of them. Who knows how many mages are roaming this place? Dima probably wouldn’t manage to control a Journeyman, let alone someone at the Master or Warrior level. And even I could only hold someone like that for a short time.
Dima didn’t know this, but this little “battle” had drained an enormous amount of energy. Everything I’d managed to accumulate over those twelve hours, and then some. Learning to take over bodies is one thing; controlling them for extended periods is something elseentirely.
In short, we were running on empty. Time to refill.