Pursuit of the Sun 1.2

—... Somehow, reading it doesn't feel like I'm gaining any new wisdom... —the reader finally says after a long silence. —I don't think the author intended to joke or mock the arts. —He thoughtfully turns the book over and looks at the cover again, as if hoping to find a hidden meaning in it. —Maybe noble gentlemen just have a different idea of what a good stage fight looks like? Whatever conclusion one might draw... Perhaps it's true that one should always be prepared for the unexpected. Whether it's a duel, an ambush, or a book you've read; life will always try to knock you down from the roof of a mill. So it's better to be ready to defend yourself in advance, or to strike the enemy first.

The book cover contains no drawings or inscriptions, and to gain wisdom, one probably needs to spend time mastering the intricate techniques of Master Dolfo. With an unpredictable result, in the style of its creator.
-- If something looks like crap, sounds like crap, and most people think it's crap, then it probably is crap, -- says Raban, imparting folk wisdom.
-- No, it's useful for general development, but I believe more in a good uppercut than in poking someone in the throat, -- agrees Sigeber, and another mug of beer gives him an idea. -- Exactly. Now we're all going to edit and add to this little book together -- Hargon, do you mind? We have paper. Now, everyone will say something smart about the art of unarmed combat, write it down, and if someone can, they'll draw their favorite techniques, and it will be a masterpiece. All that's left is to give it to the academics to rewrite.

Added 37 minutes ago
The witch was missing her left ear -- judging by the scar, it had been gone for a long time; the marks of interrogation remained on her hands, burned and with her nails torn out, but otherwise -- you have to undress her first.

-- Now that's a good conversation, -- the witch clearly perked up. -- If I want to live, I'll suck up to anyone, I'll scrub toilets. I know how to cast spells, brew potions -- both healing and harmful, and I know how to steal -- I'm not particularly good at it, -- she points to the place where her ear should have been. -- That's more than most people know, right? I'm twenty-seven years old, my name is Gita. I'll definitely be useful.

-- So, these two outcasts -- a white-haired man and a bald man -- showed up in our slums about a month ago. They seem to know each other, but I don't know if they came together. For the first few days, everything was quiet and peaceful: my eyes and brain weren't completely clouded with smoke, so I immediately realized what kind of people they were, and of course, I was curious. The bald man was a quiet guy; he would sometimes sit in the tavern, chat about life, write something down, and just sit there, thinking. He didn't drink or do drugs -- I don't know, maybe it doesn't affect him. But the white-haired woman was a nightmare; she tormented people, she really tormented them -- with spells, or just with her words; I think she's completely crazy, but you, you fiery, thick-headed fools, any step to the side or an unexpected question is the end, it messes with your brains, but we understand the multifaceted emptiness -- so even you listened to her. And in general, think about it -- a lonely, unarmed woman in the slums, she would have been raped by everyone -- but she can kill with a touch, or leave someone an idiot for life -- so they started to respect her. In the end, they settled in a basement, and people started coming to them. Believe it or not -- at first, everyone came voluntarily. It was like the Void was touching them -- like they were high, but the high was pleasant and free. They said it "cleansed" the mind. We like that. But my brain is stronger, right? I started asking questions, what was going on. I thought -- maybe they'll teach me? I could have a better life. They didn't teach me, though. One time, a man comes in, his face looks like he's carrying all the suffering in the world. He says, "I heard this is a sacred place," and it all started. She looks at him and says, "Let me help you." And he agreed. That's why we lured people in -- it's impossible without their consent. Otherwise, it turns out badly -- she'll take their mind, but not all of it. And then the body wanders around the streets like a vegetable. I said -- we need to cut them up and throw them in the canal -- there's less chance of getting caught. But these creatures -- no way. Well, what can my word do against them? Ugh, my throat is dry. Can I have some water? This is a long story.