Chapter 501
"Could you people stop staring at the refrigerator? This is an extremely complicated academic matter, and explaining it would be a pain."
Evenson rolled his eyes at the three people aiming guns at him.
Then, as if to prove just how little their weapons concerned him, he plucked a lettuce leaf from his head, knocked the caviar off his shoulder with it, and popped the caviar into his mouth.
"Hm. Actually, that’s pretty good. Black Sea caviar?"
The three armed strangers remained completely unimpressed.
Evenson’s expression flattened.
Apparently, he was going to have to work a little harder to earn the proper amount of respect.
"Still, I prefer eating things the normal way."
He flicked a finger toward his shoulder.
A spark flashed.
The caviar vanished in an instant, burned away so completely that not even ash remained.
There. Surely that had gotten their attention.
Apparently not.
Evenson turned his back on the three armed people and started rummaging through the refrigerator instead. He was curious whether anything had survived his rather destructive entrance. If he couldn’t eat it here, he could always take it home.
Then his eyes lit up.
"Whoa. Vodka!"
Inside the refrigerator sat an unopened bottle covered in Cyrillic lettering. Evenson didn’t recognize the brand, which meant it was probably expensive.
Excellent.
He grabbed the bottle and, for good measure, took an onion as well.
He poured the ice-cold vodka into a glass and knocked it back in one gulp.
Then he tore off a piece of onion and held it beneath his nose, taking a deep breath.
"Mmm. Mmm-mmm..."
His face twisted.
"This isn’t what the internet made it look like."
Evenson set the glass down, wiping away the tears that had been forced from his eyes.
"Still... that’s got some kick."
The woman watching him shook her head repeatedly.
Vodka and onion?
Even Russians had standards.
Whatever performance this guy thought he was putting on, she was giving it a zero.
"You didn’t come here just to drink, did you?" she asked, her patience visibly thinning.
"Mm-hmm. I came here mainly because..."
Evenson turned sideways, reached into the refrigerator, and pulled out a jar of caviar that looked considerably more expensive than the first one. He scooped some into his mouth, then washed it down with another swallow of vodka.
"There should be a dying arms dealer around here. I’m here to save him."
"Of course."
The woman rolled her eyes.
She holstered her pistol and walked over. Surprisingly, the two bodyguards didn’t stop her.
She reached into a small bag, pulled out a thick wad of rubles, and slapped it down beside Evenson.
"Take the money and leave. Now."
"...What?"
Evenson froze.
He stared at the cash.
Then he stared at the woman.
What kind of bizarre development was this?
Had someone already treated the arms dealer?
Impossible. Evenson could still feel his magic working.
"You’re here for money, aren’t you?" the woman said. "Don’t waste my father’s time."
She turned her back on him, her disgust obvious.
"Take the money and leave quietly. Don’t disturb my father. Otherwise, I’ll have my men throw you into the mountains and let the wolves deal with you."
"You’re the arms dealer’s daughter, aren’t you?"
Evenson felt deeply, profoundly insulted.
He snatched up the wad of money and hurled it straight into...
His own pocket.
"I came here to save your father! You don’t have to rush quite so hard to collect the inheritance."
"My father is going to the hospital for proper treatment."
The woman spun around.
Wait.
Where had the money she just put on the table gone?
Her eyes landed on Evenson.
Somehow, her opinion of him had gotten even worse.
"Men like you? I’ve seen plenty of them."
"A con artist?" Evenson pointed at himself, looking equal parts baffled and offended. "You think I’m a con artist? Didn’t I just show you what I can do?"
"I told you. I’ve seen your type before."
The woman’s eyes hardened as she glared into his.
You could make fire appear from your hands. So what?
Her father had hired plenty of exorcists recently. Every single one of them could make fire.
Some of them could make much bigger flames than this.
And when it came down to it, wasn’t it just rosin and white phosphorus?
Granted, this man appearing from inside the refrigerator had been a little unusual.
But even that wasn’t impressive anymore.
One of the people they’d hired had climbed straight out of a mirror.
It was all just stage magic and cheap tricks.
"My father should have gone to a hospital for comprehensive treatment a long time ago."
The woman suddenly drew her pistol and aimed it at Evenson.
"All of you charlatans have been filling his head with nonsense, convincing him to stay here until his condition became this bad. Now he’s lying in bed waiting to die!"
She slowly pulled back the hammer.
"So get out before I change my mind."
"Ha..."
The corner of Evenson’s mouth twitched.
Now he understood.
Superstition really could get people killed.
All those frauds who had come before him had burned through whatever credibility real supernatural practitioners might have had. Now the genuine article had finally shown up, and he was getting treated like another scam artist.
Wonderful.
"Natalia!"
A desperate shout suddenly came from outside.
The voice was weak, but whoever had shouted had forced every last bit of strength into it. The cry ended with a ragged wheeze as the man struggled to catch his breath.
Natalia shot Evenson a furious look.
"Watch this fraud."
She pointed at the two bodyguards before hurrying outside.
Evenson picked up his glass and gave the two men a little wave.
"It’s come to this, and you two don’t want a drink?"
Neither bodyguard reacted.
Their faces remained completely blank.
Evenson’s voice dropped a little.
"No? That’s a shame."
Outside the kitchen, Natalia reached her father.
He was lying on the bed, breathing heavily, struggling to raise himself.
"Father, what’s wrong?"
She hurried to his side and rubbed his chest, trying to help him breathe.
"What happened?"
"It came... It came..."
Once he’d finally managed to draw enough air into his lungs, Milkhak seized his daughter’s hand.
His eyes were wide with panic.
"He’s here."
"Who? Who’s here?"
Natalia looked around in confusion.
"The devil."
A voice drifted over from behind her, carrying a hint of irritation.
"That’s a little harsh."
Natalia turned.
Evenson was walking toward them with his hands clasped behind his back.
The two bodyguards followed several steps behind him.
Their heads hung low.
Their movements were strangely stiff.
"Even if I don’t personally object to being called the devil," Evenson said, shaking his head, "someone else might hear about it. And trust me, they’ll probably charge you a licensing fee."
With every step Evenson took, Milkhak’s terror grew.
Yet beneath that terror was something else.
Hope.
"You’re still alive. I’m glad to see it."
Evenson gave him a small nod.
Then he paused.
"Although... what was your name again?"
He thought for a moment before waving the question away.
"Never mind. It doesn’t matter."
He brought his hands forward.
A cloud of green energy coiled around his palm.
At the same moment, both bodyguards collapsed behind him with heavy thuds.
Natalia stared.
The men who had been standing there only seconds ago now looked like dried-out corpses, their bodies shriveled down to something barely resembling human beings.
Evenson pointed at Milkhak.
The green energy surged forward.
It poured into the man’s body.
Milkhak’s withered right side began to swell, flesh returning as though someone were inflating him from within.
In a matter of seconds, the shriveled half of his body had completely recovered.