"And the bandits grabbed a fat piece. How much did the guide take?"
Sergey pondered.
"A lot. More than a thousand in silver. The caravans were rich."
"And who did the bandits sell the stolen goods to?"
At this point, the chief scout cursed aloud.
"To the merchants indicated by the guide. And the only merchant who bought the goods without his guidance, he later suggested robbing! Well done, Igor! It's not that important, but knowing such things is necessary."
Standing up, he paced around the room.
"So then we'll have to set up traps in the city regarding the reappearance of merchants who bought stolen goods, and if anyone sees the guide, track him down. Who knows, we might need money again?"
The vampires laughed cheerfully.
Eugene and Olga were in their refuge. The cavern of cyclopean dimensions crafted by hand inspired respect. All the vampires could fit here and exist comfortably away from the sun. However, burying oneself underground did not find resonance in human hearts. Everyone understood that tunnels and underground levels were as essential as air. But they preferred to live on the surface.
"Do you think I insisted on building this cave in vain?"
"Well, at the very least, we have the materials to build a castle!"
The finished cave was indeed filled with neatly stacked granite blocks, ready to be transported upstairs.
"Still. I saw abandoned gnome cities and envied them. They are beautiful."
"Beautiful."
Gnome cities truly evoked a sense of beauty and provided aesthetic pleasure with their intricately laid and polished stones forming elaborate patterns and mosaics, decorating walls, floors, and ceilings everywhere. Incredibly beautiful. Olga would like to replicate that, but she hadn't encountered any stones other than granite so far. Deciding not to burden her soul with empty dreams, she changed the subject.
"Do you think we'll ever be able to consider this world ours? Or will we just keep trying not to die?"
"I don't know. I'm fine with this existence. After all, we've settled well, and thanks to you, we'll settle even better. But living underground like this... I probably couldn't. Even gnome cities, despite all their beauty, are dead."
"I'm not talking about that," the woman waved off her husband, "Will we ever coexist with the locals without fearing them, and they fearing us? Or at least like Stefania, who respects us and wants to be like us!"
Eugene laughed.
"Stefania is a very unusual girl. As for the locals... you know, even if we build paradise for them on earth, they'll still fear us, envy us, and hate us."
"Always?"
"Always!"
Gennady had regretted his ideas about cheese and cows for more than a dozen times. The damned animals so far gave more trouble than milk. The prisoners could not understand the basics of hygiene. The technology for producing quality cheese refused to be found on the first attempt. Both magic and intellect were at a loss. And on this particular morning, the former marketing department head discovered that during stirring in one of the wooden barrels, a lump of butter had appeared on the surface of the milk.
That's how they found him—sitting on the ground and laughing hysterically.
"Butter," the man who jumped up grabbed Oksana by the shoulders, "Damn butter! Why did I decide to make cheese when I should have made butter?!"
It took the treasurer a few minutes to bring him to his senses.
"Vologda butter. We'll make a fortune here! You understand? And we don't need any nuclear reactors!"
"So, are we not making cheeses anymore?" the girl extracted the main point from the man's speech.
"Of course we are! But now butter takes priority!"
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