/ I don't think it matters where it's made. If everything goes well, then... /Henry feels the familiar vibration and takes out an interdimensional pocket.-- No, no, everything is fine, customer! -- the American takes out what the guys there cobbled together, apparently a bottle with murky liquid. -- See? I guarantee delivery, it's the firm's honor! Look, the smell, the texture, any skin will be ten, no, twenty times more beautiful with this cream! Well, or whatever you're going to apply it to.
-- But first, I need your signature, -- he takes out paper and a pen. -- Name, surname, if any, occupation... Or, if the cream isn't for you, let the customer come out. Because without the customer's signature, it's impossible...
- This isn't cream! It's medicine or something, ugh, it stinks! Go back to the alchemist in Radovud and bring our cream!
Небо – угроз не слышит
Небо – ведёт особый счёт
Небо – тебя найдёт