As is customary in such cases, he fell silent and looked at me with a sly squint. Well, let's play along.
"What's the good news?"
"Each next day will be better than the previous one!"
"Excellent!" I laughed and took a sip from the mug. "And the bad news is that there won't be many of these days?"
"Something like that!" the interlocutor chuckled now. "But maybe not as few as I initially thought."
"Why's that?"
The strong beer had gone to my head, and I was really feeling good. May this night never end!
"Because for some reason my search rune doesn't see you..."
We were already speaking quietly, but in the last phrase the old man lowered his voice even more.
"Is that the shield on your wrist?"
I realized that the conversation once again touched on my future and gathered myself.
"Yeah," the old man nodded and picked up a pickled mushroom from the plate. "Generally, it should detect people like you from fifteen meters away. But here it only worked with direct contact..."
"And do many people have such things?"
The fork with the next mushroom froze a centimeter from the old man's open mouth. It hung for a few seconds and eventually reached its destination.
"And who were you in that world?"
The interlocutor ignored my question again.
Of course, I'll tell you who I was, but it's clear without questions that you reek of KGB methods and paranoia from a kilometer away.
"I wrote books," I answered without making a big pause. "I was very rich. I dreamed that something would happen in my life and my legs would work again. I imagined different situations and described them..."
"Situations like this one?"
"Not exactly like this," I shrugged. "But I described similar ones, and not just me."
"I see-e-e," the old man drawled and, grabbing something that looked like a pickled cucumber with his fingers, crunched it with a bite.
"What do you see?"
The alcohol was affecting my perception more and more, and the fears were gone. When, if not now, will I clarify the situation?
Viziliy didn't even look in my direction. He was thoughtfully crunching on the cucumber and staring somewhere behind my back. Well, fine. I also took a cucumber and took two more sips of beer.
About three minutes passed.
The old man suddenly stirred, looked first at the almost empty mug, then at me, as if seeing me for the first time, and said:
"It's clear that you need to pass one more test."
"For what?"
Returning from my reverie, I looked at him.
"To see if you're undetectable by the devices that are tuned to the cursed ones."
"And what will that give me?" I asked, not catching the thought.
"Oh!" the old man smiled mysteriously. "As far as I know, you're the first outsider in more than fifty years. And if they can't find you... Then the number of your days in our wonderful world might greatly increase! Moreover, they could become truly happy!"
"And who's looking for people like me?"
"Everyone," the old man chuckled.
"Why?"
"Because the potential of an average outsider is much higher than anyone else's. Any ruler, and even smaller feudal lords, want to get one and use them for their own purposes. When they, that is you, appeared frequently, you played a key role in all significant conflicts. And usually those who had more of you won."
Holy shit... Something's not quite standard here. My knowledge about travelers was rapidly losing its usefulness. In this world, everything seems to be arranged quite differently.
"What's changed now?"
"I'm telling you: they stopped coming about fifty or fifty-five years ago... It wasn't noticed immediately, so there's no exact date," Viziliy recalled, looking somewhere over my shoulder. "For the first ten years or so, they continued to search, but when the same information started coming from other continents, they gradually stopped."
"And are there many of them here now? From those who came earlier?"
"Here, where exactly?"
"Well... In the vicinity? In the country?"
"Ha!" the old man smiled with the corners of his mouth, but there was no joy in his face. "I'm not sure if even one is still alive on the continent."
"Why?"
In surprise, I even leaned forward. This doesn't make sense! If travelers are stronger on average, plus magic, they should definitely live longer than a mere fifty years! Viziliy himself is at least sixty-five.
"Guys of this breed usually have an extremely inflated sense of their own importance and exceptionality. Even if they don't have it initially, those who survived and gained power acquired it very quickly. They took a lot of risks... Others risked a lot with them..."
"But still!.. They couldn't all die⁈"
"Quiet!" The interlocutor pointed at the ceiling and whispered: "Not all could. And when there were enough of them, they, as I said, influenced the fates of the world... But then, when it turned out that some kings still had such strong fighters, and others didn't... Well, a hunt began. They spared no expense, and sometimes to destroy just one outsider, they hired a squad from the mages' guild, and they would level entire cities..."
I listened and was amazed. This is fucked up. This is what happens when there are many travelers in one place and they don't follow the basic rules. Though, they probably didn't all come here from Earth. And even if they did, assuming that the flow of time is the same in all worlds, they wouldn't know about any rules. I must be the first traveler who knows this term itself.
And here a logical question came to my mind, the answer to which, in general, determined my life.
"And what are you going to do?"
"Finally! I thought you'd never ask," Viziliy grinned and stood up. "Wait a couple of minutes."
He quickly walked to the kitchen and disappeared behind the door. A muffled ringing came from there, and after a couple of minutes, footsteps were heard again.
Viziliy returned, holding four more mugs in his hands. Well... Judging by the attitude towards him in the village, the tattoos, and his behavior in the field, this man is not at all simple.
The mugs landed on the wooden table with a thud, causing the flames of both candles to flicker, and the old man sat down on the creaking chair.
"As I said, first we need to make sure that the search devices don't see you. And if that's really the case, then I'll take you as an assistant."
"Why?"
"Why do I need you? Or why do you need me?"
"Both."
"Well, the second is obvious," the old man began, but a distant shout was heard from outside the house, and literally immediately several more voices picked it up.
"Wolves!"
[Unknown player! You are offered a quest: defend the village from a wolf attack.]
[Accept/decline.]
[Reward: 1 gold coin and reputation increase.]
[Accept/decline.]
Accept!
"Follow me!" my potential patron commanded and quickly blew out the candles. And when I caught up with him, he held me back a little by the shoulder and whispered: "The main feature of outsiders is that they attract events or, simply put, trouble!"
Rushing out of the tavern, we ran to the gates, where shouts and screams were coming from, and where, obviously, a battle was going on.
Two torches appeared in Viziliy's hands, and they suddenly flared up unexpectedly brightly.
"Here!" he handed me one of them. "Your task is to shine light and not die! If you see a wolf, it's better to poke it in the muzzle with fire, not your sword. They don't like that, and the guys will help."
During the battle at the cart, the old man wasn't so concerned about my skin. Apparently, my new status changed his attitude, and I'm really strongly needed for something.
Five men were standing at the gates, and another one was lying, leaning against the wall of the nearest house. For weapons, I noticed swords similar to the one I was holding in my right hand, and spears. The defenders had no bows or crossbows.
The wolves had already lost two, but how many there were in total was unclear. Gray shadows flickered beyond the space illuminated by the torches.
"No less than fifteen!" the already familiar big man answered the unasked question. His left arm hung along his body, and blood dripped from his motionless hand onto the ground.
Footsteps of several more villagers were heard from behind.
"Maybe they won't attack now?" a very young boy of about sixteen lisped.
"They will," Viziliy sobered him, "and soon! Step away from the fence!"
And he turned out to be right. A loud howl resounded around, and after a few seconds, the first wolves burst into the circle of light, and a second later, growling and baring their teeth, they leaped over the palisade.