🍁Nine Ancient Obelisks

Upon returning home, Ghenza takes out the little figurine and the three-headed dog, and alternately considers which one would look better on the nightstand.
- I found a friend for you, - he shows the dog to Shiris and her Doberman. - Or is it you after all?
Taking the little figurine in two fingers and looking at it closely, the guy snaps his fingers:
- Holy moly! Khassanich! - It was at this lighting, in his hometown, that he finally realized what had drawn him to this figurine - it was a perfect likeness of his former buddy from the "Sand Dogs"!
He didn't wear that outfit or have that hairstyle, or even that beard, but that unwavering gaze under furrowed brows was exactly the same. That very gaze that evoked wild fury, but also reluctant respect from representatives of other gangs, due to its stubbornness, a sense of complete infallibility, and the ability to go to the end in any, even the most desperate situation, without any compromises, even if it meant breaking down a wall with his head. Although he wasn't particularly cunning, as the streets demanded, he put dignity and soul into everything he did, and that's what made him a person you wanted to follow.
Ghenza would also like to have that gaze, but being naturally handsome, he never managed to achieve the same impact. And yet...
For the next half hour, he stands in front of the mirror, trying again to replicate on his own face what he felt in his memories. The buddy is no longer in the world of the living, so someone has to pick up the banner.

Having achieved a result that was not yet perfect, but somewhat satisfactory, he decisively places the dog on the nightstand, and the old man returns to his inventory - as a talisman.
- Now it's your turn, beauty, - he pulls out the "defective Shiris" from his jacket pocket. - Something didn't appeal to the Holy One, but in my opinion, it's top-notch. I won't argue with her, she knows more about these things than I do, but you know, it's impossible to measure everything with numbers, even luck is a chance, on top of all the calculations. Remember, she had something with her sister? It's the same story. I think it would be even sadder if you stayed gathering dust under the curtain. Do you agree? - he asks the Doberman and its owner, but of course, he receives no answer. - I'm sure we'll get along.
Having installed the "unique Shiris," as he called her to himself, and "juiciness" to boot, he realized that his home had suddenly become completely overgrown with bellies, hips, and dogs. Future chroniclers, who will analyze the biography of the Onkai butcher, will surely add this quirk, as well as the fact that he talks to decorations and inanimate objects, to the corresponding dossier. For some reason, this absurd thought amused him, and he decided to give the paper-pushers an extra treat by "officially" naming the nameless katana the "stained blade" - it had finally earned its name, albeit not in the way he had intended. He was sure that he would have to get his hands dirty with dubious deeds in the name of the common good more than once, but he didn't expect anything else from this guild, or from life in general, and this duality between the first and second slots seemed poetic to him.
- Well, as for you... - his hand stroked the hilt of the one and only masterpiece by the great sensei. - I promised you a bag of heads, and you will get it.

"Smile" goes into the first slot, the accessory is swapped for a ruby ring, so that the leading hand matches it in status.

and may make a couple of purchases in the background, but that needs to be thought about

Sughukh peppers on the hands and a pair of sneakers on the other. I could even pick up a bento box along the way (and not get poisoned by it)?

***

Eight of them went through this procedure without any problems, but Jack was not allowed into Calcite - first, they tried to make him take off his mask, and when it became clear that it could not be removed and, moreover, in the photo in the documents, he was without it, he had to get off the train. It was not possible to see what emotions he had at that moment because of the same mask, but before he left the transport, Zenus whispered something encouraging to him.

- I don't know what he was thinking, - Ghenza casually comments to his friends, sprawled out, taking up an entire seat and putting one leg over the other. - We'll have to act with a reduced team, the reconnaissance moment is complicated, so you will be my eyes, - his ring finger points to Zumi. - We'll manage, but be more careful.
If his colleagues looked closely at his face, they might think that in these week and a half, it had become about ten years closer to the age indicated in his fake passport - under a certain angle of lighting. The sparks of naive youthful carelessness had faded, giving way to something more predatory, perhaps even with barely perceptible notes of madness, however, steelily restrained; although his external behavior retained all the same relaxed self-confidence.

Stepping onto the thin, half-sandy ground and inhaling the extraordinary aromas of Calcite, Zibaba grimaced at the sensation.
- We need to figure out where to look for the object. She doesn't look very local, her face is too soft. And for a foreigner, I see two options here - "guest of honor," or being in someone's harem. Both will be found where the fat wallets spend their time - the citadel. But first, let's take a look around.
He skeptically looks at the people who don't fit into Calcite.
- Okay, so. Zeno - you have an important task to run to the church and get into the gear, the few general phrases that I said along the way will be enough for that. Keep your eyes open, it is possible that she may be connected to the church in some way, - he glances at the eight out of ten attractiveness nearby. - I won't let you go alone in this hole. Come with me to the flower shop, then we'll all meet at the lighthouse.