Luck

I was walking down the street as usual. In trousers and shirt. I would not say that I am directly ashamed of my financial situation, I just want to avoid unnecessary problems. Because if I see passers-by noble girls throw disparaging glances at me because I don't change dresses every day and I don't behave as refined as they do, then.... Pieces will fly through the back streets. Probably, my father regretted a little that he taught me to fight, and generally allowed all this dressing up. Well, what we have, we have. Today there was not a single cloud in the sky, the end of summer. It's still hot, but it's getting cooler in the evenings. I lower my gaze down, right under my feet. A bad habit that passed with me from the past world. What then, what now, because of her, it was possible to get pretty cradles. And then I hear a sharp sound, the neighing of a horse and someone's screams. I raise my head sharply and see someone's carriage rushing along the road, apparently out of control. People jump off the road in fear into a dense k and who runs into alleys and houses at all. Out of harm's way, I also dive into the nearest alley in advance. - It happens - I sigh heavily. There is no mood at all today. Even though I'm still ten, but I've already realized that I'm not going to enter secular society. I had to learn etiquette from birth, not take the course of a young count. Now there is no point in catching up, the outlook on life is no longer the same. And, let's be honest, from the very thought that I, a man of the 21st century, who is used to gender equality and democracy, simply will not survive in the society of nobles. Only here, how to explain this to my father, albeit a former, but a full member of the noble society? My father told me that he had talked not only with dukes, but also once with the king himself! Of course, this is something from the category of "I saw the president live, and it seems he even looked at me once," but the fact itself. Eh... The path of the self-sufficient doll of the Countess is hard. A supply of dampness, mold and something else unpleasant reaches the nose. Plus, everything has darkened sharply and shakes with an aura of oppression. So... I think I can guess where I've wandered. I tried to turn back and go back the same way, but, as if out of spite or in some cartoon, I suddenly realized that I didn't know how and why there was a wall behind me. Once again, so... Slowly, trying not to attract attention, we go forward on a half-step, maybe there will be a way out. And of course, I managed to catch sidelong glances from those who live here. And there live men with a strange aura and a bandit's face, small street kids and old people. So, I've had enough of adventures in the style of Hollywood movies, let me go home! "You little bastard! - The representative of the local gopota shouted, holding the escaping body by the collar. It seems that his body has been bitten thoroughly, since the other hand is shaking so much that it is about to take off. - "No, no and no. It doesn't concern me. And in general, suddenly this guy is good, and he has a ragamuffin for something ..." - The thoughts were interrupted by a man who savoringly charged the kid in the stomach. After that, he opened his hand and the boy fell to the floor, curling up with the letter "G". - Completely lost my fear, eh!? Forgot who's in charge here in the area!? - Here he kicks the boy in the same place where he hit him with his fist before. - So I'll remind you, - spits angrily. - I'm in charge here! - Another kick. - So that it was the last time, got it?! Otherwise... - With his huge paw, he turns the kid on his back and forcefully steps on the chest. - I'll crush you like a bug. And he quickly leaves without even waiting for an answer from the boy. Everyone who was here chose to turn away. I didn't succeed. - "Damn it, damn my inner pacifist!" - I carefully approach the boy. At first glance, he seems dead, his skin is so pale, despite all the dirt. Gray hair that is stuck together in places and torn in some places, clothes that are a couple of sizes bigger. - Are you alive? - I want to touch it already to check how I am suddenly grabbed tightly by the hand and the boy's eyes open abruptly, revealing an amazing ruby color. And they froze. But, apparently, the boy was really hit hard, he closed his eyes again and went limp. - Eeeeey! Don't you dare die here! - I wanted to shake him, but I remembered in time that he had been beaten and I would only make it worse. You can not count on outside help, so you still have to drag him. If only I didn't lean back on the road, my word. There was a pile of something piled up nearby, and I dragged him there. I tried to put it so that it was not visible, but it was also comfortable for him. For reliability, I covered it with rags. And then I had a sick thought. She put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. -"If I'm not mistaken, in the Middle Ages, shoes were removed from corpses... And now he looks very much like a jerk ..." - she looked at the boy again. Indeed, I hid the upper half of my body, and the lower half sticks out feet first. "Well, is it okay if I take off his shoes and hide them next to him, but so that I find them?" - And nodded to her thoughts. "Yes, I will. " And so, after a couple of dexterous (no) movements, because of which I smeared my pants (because I fell while trying to take off my shoes), a pair of shoes in a very deplorable state rest (Ha. Ha. Ha.) next to their owner. She took another look at her work and quite dusted off her hands. Now you can get out. I did everything that a 10-year-old booger could do in this situation. That's it, I wash my hands of it. On her heels, she turned around and went wherever her eyes looked. Only when I moved away from the pile for a few meters, I felt someone's gaze on the back of my head. For some reason, it came to the realization that this look belongs to that poor guy. And for some reason there was an association, as if I had completed a plot task. Why would that be?