The sensation of waking up was stinging. My back felt as if it were on fire, as though glowing hot hooks were piercing my flesh, tearing me away from a blissful dreamscape.
Reflecting on last night's events, this was hardly a surprise. A night with a Succubus Queen was intense, and her razor-sharp talons were far from the harmless nails of an ordinary woman. Those claws were designed to shred skin into ribbons, leaving permanent scars on their victims.
Airi had fully made up for the ten years of abstinence she had endured. After thousands of years of marriage, one might get used to it, but back then, my body recovered much faster.
Now, however, I was mortal. I could actually die if, in a fit of overwhelming emotion, she decided to rip my heart out with her teeth. Next time, I would need to establish the ground rules beforehand, otherwise, there was an unjustifiable risk of meeting the ancient Grim Reaper prematurely.
Deciding not to disturb Airi, who continued to snore peacefully, I reached for the trousers I had discarded. I pulled a blue crystal from my pocket, one of the largest shards from the old mineral core, and took a meditative stance. The crystal in my hand glowed faintly with residual energy. I planned to absorb these remnants to nourish my magical core and encourage my body to heal.
Energy surged within me. It was cold and pure, like an Arctic wind. It flowed through my veins, mending the remaining cracks in my core. The burning pain in my back began to fade, replaced by a pleasant tingling sensation. I felt my core vibrate, growing stronger. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
When I opened my eyes, I realized the crystal had lost its luster and magical potency entirely. Now it was just an ordinary stone, one of the thousands of fragments we had sold to the guild yesterday for a pittance. I tossed it into the bin under the sink, after all, it was worth ten rubles at most, then stood up and stretched. My back still ached slightly, but the pleasant hum from my core offset the discomfort.
The apartment window suddenly swung open, and she burst inside. Her white hair was a tangled mess from the wind, and a small, dead dog hung from her teeth. The mini Chihuahua stared at me with vacant eyes, its tongue lolling out of its mouth.
Hanako dropped the carcass onto the floor, wiped her bloody mouth with her hand, and turned away, crossing her arms huffily. Her gaze was defiant: this was my punishment for being so mean. Her single green eye shone with triumph, and her tail twitched in anticipation of even the slightest praise. Progress was evident. Yesterday she stole a pigeon, today she caught a dog.
Succubi are sensitive sleepers, reacting to even the smallest emotional fluctuations in their surroundings. It was no surprise that Hanako's wild entrance woke Airi immediately. Then again, a noise like that could wake the dead.
Airi sat up, her eyes flashing purple for a split second, but when she saw the loot, her lips curled into a smile.
"Well, you've finally made yourself useful," she murmured softly, gently scratching the nekomata's ear. Hanako purred, her tail expressing immense joy. "That demonic beast loved to bark in the morning. Now, finally, there will be soothing silence." After a short pause, her smile widened. "I'll just have to listen to Ivanova's endless whining about her missing cutie. But that's a small price to pay for morning peace."
I calmly picked up the Chihuahua by its paws, it weighed as much as a feather, and dragged it into the freezer. Discarding Hanako's gift would be disrespectful. To her, it was as valuable as a crystal was to me. But neither Airi nor I were going to prepare it for breakfast. We weren't savages, even if we had eaten far worse in Hell.
"Done, problem solved," I said, taking out sausages and a dozen eggs from the fridge to start breakfast. "Airi, would you like to prepare a delicious dog-meat dinner for Hanako tonight?"
Hanako beamed, jumping closer to rub her face against my chest. Her eyes sparkled with pride. Airi rolled her eyes but stood beside me to start making coffee.
"Alright, sit down," Airi said, pointing to the floor next to her.
"Let's set some rules. Neighbors' pets are off-limits. Understand?" Hanako's expression suggested she understood nothing.
"By the way, you can't hunt the neighbors either," she added, leaving the wild cat even more confused.
"Fine. If you really want to hunt, you can bring home pigeons." Hanako understood this, meowing happily and nuzzling Airi.
Leaning back in my chair, I sipped my coffee and poked at my scrambled eggs. Mornings were always special in our family. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Airi, not wanting to disturb my breakfast, stood up. Wearing a thin robe that barely concealed her curves, she went to open it.
"Oh, hello!" Dmitry's voice boomed like a siren. Seeing the beautiful woman who opened the door, his eyes widened.
"Are you Zhenya's mother? Wow. Does your mother happen to need a son-in-law..." He paused, looking away and muttering.
"No, that was too stupid even for me. Anyway, is Zhenya home?"
I nearly choked on my coffee. Dima stood at the threshold, built like a wardrobe in his black tracksuits, staring hungrily at the woman who was publicly my mother.
"Eugene, you have very interesting friends," Airi thought, suppressed a laugh, and remained polite. "Zheka is home," she smiled. "Come in."
As he stepped inside, Dima saw me lazily eating an omelet and Hanako, who had shifted into her cat form out of habit. Airi had taught her this, when guests arrive, she is a sweet kitten, not a terrifying monster.
"Did you just try to hit on your best friend's mother?" I asked, wondering what was going through his head.
"Seriously? Mother? You couldn't come up with a better story?" Dima blinked, his grin widening. "You should probably make the bed before making claims like that."
Airi giggled. Her eyes sparked with mischief, but she quickly reverted to her protective maternal act. My face turned cold as the man started prying into business that wasn't his.
"Come on, don't get so emotional. If you want to roleplay, go ahead. Who am I to judge?" He raised his hands in a peace sign, his gaze flickering toward Airi as if he felt more threatened by her than by me. "I was just worried. I heard some portals opened nearby. Small ones, but I was concerned regardless."
I chuckled to myself. Portals? Yes, I had felt some distortions last night. They were minor rifts that only let weak creatures through, giant horned rats or beetles that could be crushed with a single hammer blow. Nothing dangerous, just a few more homeless people being sent to the other world, at worst.
"Portals?" Airi asked, crossing her arms. "Oh, thank you for the warning. Knowing my Zhenya, he could get hurt even by portals like that," she said, her lips curling into a smirk while Dima's back was turned. "Would you like some tea? Since you're visiting?"
"I'd love to, but..." Dima declined wisely. Nearby, Hanako began scratching the sofa like a normal cat sharpening its claws.
"Hanako!" Airi snapped. "Stop that right now! Do you want us to be evicted for property damage?"
Hanako hissed but obeyed, sitting in the corner and staring at Dima with an offended expression. Dima looked at the cat, then at me, then at Airi, and suddenly burst out laughing.
"The atmosphere in your house is truly bizarre, my friend! A nekomata sharpening its claws and an ordinary girl raising her voice. And the man-eating monster obeys her as if he's terrified of her."
Noticing my cold stare, he dropped the subject. "Alright, let's go for a walk before we get into trouble. I know a place where we can wait until the disaster passes. There's a cafe a few stops away."
I shrugged and agreed. Why waste energy stopping another argument? Besides, even a fool could see he wasn't just here for my safety. After the display in the ice desert, was there any point in fearing minor portals?
We stepped out into the building that smelled of cigarettes and yesterday's soup, then walked down the grey streets of Novosibirsk. Most people stared at Dima, whose black tracksuit and broad shoulders instilled fear in the neighborhood's less fortunate.
"Have you seen the news? You know, from the first empire," he asked. "We're starting a war with our neighbors."
"I haven't watched it," I nodded. While Airi followed world politics religiously, I usually just absorbed the info by listening. Dima chuckled, pulling out his phone.
"China is raising gas prices again. We'll survive, but it's a bad sign. Their President has lost his mind. Rumor has it his grandfather was friends with the Golitsyns, and now that they've been ousted, they're taking revenge on our beautiful Anastasia. Like a beggar on the throne, without clan or tribe, where have you ever seen such a thing?"
I nodded. Airi had predicted this. The Chinese Federation had been seeking revenge against our Empress for the coup for over thirty years now.
"Standard political gossip," I dismissed. Dima laughed and patted my back. We approached a place with a ridiculous pink sign that would make any normal person feel like they were having a rainbow-induced hangover. Amelia's Coffee Shop.
"How do you know about this secret spot for teenage girls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Dima just waved a massive paw.
"Rumors travel, bro. An old lady at the bus stop said the éclairs here are so good the Virgin Mary herself would forgive everyone's sins. I wanted to try them but was too scared to go alone."
We entered, and I was nearly blinded by the amount of pink and white. Dima looked like a bear at a children's party. I ordered an éclair and a chocolate milkshake, while Dima surprisingly asked for black coffee without sugar.
"Look at this," he said, turning on a video. "It's that same reporter who always gets to portals before the hunters. He's interviewing people on the street."
The screen showed angry faces. A man in a tattered jacket screamed about the Japanese being too rich on their islands. An old woman cursed the Conglomerate for tripling the prices of weapons.
"They've become completely brazen!" a man shouted. "First they raise prices, and now they kick our people out like stray dogs! Do they not know who they are dealing with!? Our Empress will not tolerate such insults! Our angels will crush their vaunted defenses!"
The video shook as the journalist was pushed around. The people were filled with genuine rage, calling the Japanese Conglomerate representatives bloodsuckers and profiteers.
"So, what do you think?" Dima asked. "The Conglomerate still thinks our Empress holds the throne by luck. They underestimate the army of angels behind her."
I sipped my drink, noting the irony. These angels, the children of the Mother of Humanity used by Anastasia to maintain her borders, were seen by the people as defenders of justice. But I knew the truth. They were monsters, the creations of the Mother of Monsters. They just had better PR.
"The angels are a convincing argument," I said, breaking off a piece of cake. "But you shouldn't assume Anastasia is entirely right. Japan has reasons for the pressure. Our navy recently sank several of their ships in international waters. Officially, it was accidental."
Dima chuckled. "And he says he doesn't watch the news."
"Sometimes I catch snippets," I brushed it off. "But the Empress tried to make concessions, and they just hinted that without their technology, her reign would end. They keep bringing up her origins. She might be a rootless usurper, but all great dynasties start that way."
"Has anyone ever told you that you don't think like a high schooler?" Dima's eyes widened, but then he started chuckling, trying to stifle a laugh that was growing louder.
"Should I call an ambulance?" I asked.
"Look!" He snorted, pointing to a far corner. I saw someone I didn't expect to see in such a place. "Kuznetsova, lol. Sitting alone. Eating pudding."
"She's at a cafe. We're all human," I said, not seeing the joke.
"Look at what she's watching on her laptop!"
I stared at the girl. Her white hair was down, and her clothes were a far cry from her combat gear. She had headphones on, but the screen revealed a classic Indian soap opera, saturated colors, over-emotional actors, and subtitles telling a story of love and betrayal.
"She's watching soaps!" Dima choked. "And there are over a hundred episodes in her playlist. A monster hunter, a rebel against authority, and in her spare time, she's a Bollywood fan."
Eventually, Margarita realized she was being mocked. She stopped her show, took off her headphones, and turned toward us. Her face twisted with rage.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was low and dangerous. "This is my place. Normal men don't come here. You're either gay on a date, or you've been stalking me."
Dima leaned back, hands behind his head, grinning like a fool. "The spirits of Novosibirsk whispered the address to me, my dear. They said a momentous meeting awaited me today. I didn't know they meant something so pleasant."
Margarita looked at him as if he had offered her a dead rat. Her fingers curled into claws, a sign her Harpy bloodline was slipping.
"Are you serious?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, if I see your face again within a kilometer, you'll get to know every trauma surgeon in this city. And your silent boyfriend, too."
She stormed out, leaving a trail of fury and cheap perfume. Dima watched her leave with a silly grin. "Isn't she beautiful? So mean, yet her eyes sparkle. Totally my type. Let's follow her and apologize. Say it was a joke."
"You've just proven you're a lunatic," I said, finishing my éclair.
"Ordinary people don't stalk girls who just threatened them with physical violence. Especially girls who can dismember you without a weapon."
"Come on, you have to be persistent. No means yes eventually, right?"
I sighed. The man was as stubborn as a mule on an adrenaline high. We paid and walked out into the harsh sunlight. Margarita's silhouette disappeared around a corner. Dima rushed forward, but our pursuit was stopped before it began. Waiting for us at the exit was a group of young men whose appearance screamed privileged. Two were likely younger sons of barons, but the one in front was surely a senior heir.
"Look who we have here," the leader said, a tall man in an expensive jacket adorned with a family crest. "A walking zombie on a stroll. And he brought another half-corpse with him."
I observed quietly. The younger sons of barons always tried to assert themselves by picking on those they deemed lower. It was the typical social hierarchy of our world. But Dima froze. His smile vanished, and his eyes became cold and hollow, like those of a corpse.
"What, zombie, lost your tongue?" the leader continued, stepping closer. "Or did they forget to teach you how to behave when speaking to a noble when they raised you?"
Dima slowly turned toward him. His movements became smooth, almost serpentine. The wild energy from before was gone.
"Say it again," he whispered. His voice was muffled, as if coming from underground. "What did you just call me?"
The heir snorted, though he and his friends visibly tensed. "I said a zombie. Has your brain rotted? Your skin is blue, like a drowned man. You smell strange. Where did you crawl out from, you rootless trash? Maybe I should cleanse the world of another monster?"
This was enough. Without asking for permission, I lunged at the loudest brat and kicked him so hard his face hit the pavement.
"What did you do!?" his lackeys screamed. "Do you know who you just insulted!?"
"Like a wolf with a disgusting laugh?" I asked, turning to Dima with an indifferent expression. "Listen, since we're going to be enemies of the nobility anyway, maybe we should have some fun?"
The cold face of my friend softened into a grin.
"Let's. I was just wondering where to scratch my knuckles."