«Sir, are you sure it's not too soon for him?» said Paul, handing the weighty stack of thin books to his interlocutor.

«I think the sooner he does it, the easier it will be for him in the future» said the Asian-looking man, with knowledge in his voice, as he placed the marked burden under his arm.

«Well, suit yourself» said the boy, looking thoughtfully at the tall man in the velvet robe.

It had been three whole days since a strange Japanese single father with a baby in his arms had barged into his quiet, measured life.

Not that he was complaining about it... Ever since Paul's parents left for an extended vacation in France, leaving him in the care of his grandmother, who came only once a week; because of the long distance between their homes, the young boy's life had become extremely boring.

He had no girlfriend, which many of his high school friends had had by his age; no friends to have fun with; and not even a pet to brighten up his drab life.

His parents strictly forbade him to bring pets into the house, because of his grandmother's allergies; all his friends, since the end of the previous year, had moved to big cities; and the girls... With his appearance as a typical subtle nerd - he did not even dream of them.

His only hope was the Wiltshire College of Computing, which he was going to attend in a year.

And maybe a normal teenager his age would have been happy living in a parent-free house... But not him.

«Wait, where are you going?», Suddenly an exclamation was heard from the kitchen.



«It's okay. The little guy just wanted to get some cookies», said Momonga, holding the toddler clinging to the nightstand from falling.

«Well, okay then», Paul mumbled, looking doubtfully at the kitchen cabinet, which was suspended a foot and a half high.

«Speaking of which», the teenager said, before leaving to go about his business. «I never got your baby's name. May I ask?», politely asked Paul.

«Oh yes, of course...», Said Momonga, mentally panicking.

"Ahh, I looked at his stats, and I didn't even look up his name!", he lamented. "What's the answer? I can't apply the exposure again if I don't want to be exposed!"

At first, Momonga was tempted for a second to apply a time-stop, in order to discreetly peek at the boy's statistics, but he quickly dismissed the idea, finding it rather delusional.

"Besides, it would be strange if I called the boy by some English name. Even if he doesn't look Japanese, I still have to stick to the legend of the single father who was abandoned by his foreign wife and fled to his homeland", he decided.

Looking at the baby still in his arms, who was smiling brightly at him, Momonga thought:

"I've never thought about having offspring, and therefore, thoughts of the future name of my children have never even occurred to me", he frowned.

Satoru began to scrutinize every detail of the boy's appearance, and biography that he at least knew about, trying to find the most appropriate name for him.

«Kaminari?», a stray thought slipped through his mind as Momonga looked again at the small lightning-shaped scar. But he, with a mental chuckle immediately dismissed it, as he realized that naming the boy after a minor character, from one ancient shōnen-manga, was not serious at all.

«Not that I've studied onomastics much...,» he thought, remembering the name of the science that studies the meanings of names. «But I think that name would suit him just fine...»

«Excuse me, of course, if I just asked something inappropriate», Paul quickly began to say, misunderstanding the rather prolonged silence on the part of his interlocutor. «You don't have to say, if your culture is...

«Kichiro. Suzuki Kichiro», Momonga interrupted him, saying the name he had just made up.

"Several times I remember, that name must mean 'lucky son' ", Momonga thought to himself. «Well, you're certainly incredibly lucky then...»


«There it is», sighed Dumbledore relieved, looking at the tiny vial of blood.

What a lot of trouble it had been to get it. Three times Albus came to visit the Potters, trying to steal at least a few drops of blood from little Harry. And you can not ask directly. Not only would publicity about the practice of blood magic severely damage his reputation as a light wizard, but there was a good chance that even after all the possible exhortations and oaths, they would simply refuse to give Dumbdore their child's blood, and would not let him anywhere near Harry again.

"If the kidnappers didn't perform the cutoff ritual, then the search spell must work", Dumbledore thought, levitating and then laying out a huge, small-scale map of England on the floor.

«Cruentum Oculum», whispered Dumbledore, pointing the tip of his wand at the open vial.

A small drop separated smoothly from the bulk of the blood, reducing the contents of the vial by about a third. It also began to circle leisurely over a fairly accurate map of Britain, beginning to increase its speed with each passing second.

Finally, after a minute, when the little drop had already turned into a thin bloody line in the air, it suddenly stopped and began to fly slowly toward the middle of the map.

The drop, hovering over the map for a second, began to fall down smoothly, leaving behind only a tiny trail of blood.

«Wiltshire, Swindon, Bankside eight», Albus read, taking out his notebook.

After he hastily but carefully scribbled down Harry's location address, Dumbledore immediately ran to the fireplace, at the same time levitating the vial with his wand back into the safe with a stasis spell, and snapping his fingers with his free hand, thereby instantly burning the card into fine white ash.

Taking a pinch of green powder from the bowl that stood right next to the burning fireplace, Albus immediately tossed it into the fire, increasing its size as well as its emerald hue.

«Moody, I found him!», Proclaimed Dumbledore as he shoved half of his torso into the fire.


«Fur-ther», Momonga read slowly, writing a new word in his thin black notebook with a simple pencil. «Translation... Sarani touku», Momonga said in Japanese, concentrating a little. «Do you remember, Kichiro?», He turned to the boy who had been sitting with him in the kitchen in the shabby looking child's chair the whole time.

- Wah? - He asked, looking at the notebook with the funny scribbles in it in puzzlement.

«I see», Momonga nodded, turning the page of the dictionary. «Next word...»

Suddenly there was a door chime from across the hall.

«Coming!», shouted the young landlord from the living room, who had previously been casually watching Momonga learn English while pretending to be studying with a child while reading a book.

Momonga briefly stopped studying, beginning to listen to what was going on in the next room.

And then, there was the creak of a door opening, followed by a loud thud, as if a sack full of something rather heavy had fallen.

Momonga immediately sensed trouble, rising sharply from his seat and equipping himself with his combat gear.

«Stay here», Momonga whispered quickly to the boy, but after thinking for a while, he decided to be on the safe side.

Pointing his right hand in the boy's direction, Momonga began whispering spells:

«Life-proof cocoon; arrow-proof wall; magic-proof dome.»

After the first sentence, a spell circle appeared in Momonga's hands, which only widened with each successive spell by one swirling belt of runes that surrounded it.

After the last word, little Kichiro was enveloped in a green glow, which then transformed into a transparent emerald dome of impenetrable protection.

But suddenly, Momonga's side-eye saw two red beams flying at him from the living room, which he - out of habit rather than necessity - dodged with a very short teleport that could be mistaken for a very abrupt movement rather than a teleportation.

«Stop, Eater, you're surrounded!», Shouted a wild-looking, scarred man in a red cloak, with a short wooden staff in his left hand, which served as a cane for support, rather than a weapon, for in his right hand he held an oak wand aimed in his direction.

«The whole area is shrouded in anti-apparatus charms, and there are aurors all around, ready for anything, with orders to strike if you escape. You have no chance!», the younger, blond-haired man to the right, apparently the eldest in their group, proclaimed confidently.

"Eater?" - Momonga wondered. - "Did they really think I was..." - Shuddered Momonga, glancing at the boy who was passionately watching all of this.

«I think there must be some mistake. I'm definitely not, as you put it, an "eater," so...»

«Silence!», he was rudely interrupted by the older man with the prosthetic eye. «You'll have to prove your innocence in court, but now give us the boy right now!»

"Apparently, we're not going to be able to have a dialogue." - Momonga thought, extending his right hand sharply.

"Instant Magic: Shockwave."

From Momonga's hand, a broad shockwave went out toward the attackers, which surprisingly did not hit any furniture that fell in its path. But when it reached the two intruders, it shattered their shields, throwing them straight toward the table near the sofa in the center of the living room.

Momonga didn't really want to trash the house of someone who'd welcomed him for three whole days, so he didn't use any destructive spells.

"Of course, one could apply a heart grip...", he prolonged. "But I don't really want to aggravate this misunderstanding with extra corpses", Satoru thought, approaching the merrily cackling kid, who seemed to be enjoying the spectacle unfolding before him.

Momonga took off his guard and, in his left hand, held up his staff, which had been resting peacefully against the wall, in his right hand.

As Momonga was about to open the Gate, he suddenly remembered:

"What about Paul?"

Quickly applying the life detection and making sure he was alive but sound asleep, Momonga calmed down.

"It would be rather unfortunate to lose the man who treated you so kindly in his arms. Maybe if he were dead, I could even bring him back to life with my wand.", the thought flashed through his mind.

Suddenly there was a clattering sound in the corridor, and Momonga, without another second of hesitation, tilted his staff forward, speaking quickly:


As he swiftly slid into the anthrocite portal that had formed in front of him, Momonga didn't see the dazed look in blue eyes on the other side of the portal as a gray-haired, long-bearded old man froze in the passage behind several wizards in red robes.


«I should have stopped time and erased his memory», he sighed, heading toward the airport in the human disguise he'd put on with an interesting trick.

"I'm a genius", Satoru thought proudly, looking at his what looked like actual real flesh. "What a good thing I did learn that high-level predatory slime summoning spell that Hiro-Hiro gave me for my birthday after all." Mentally Momonga smiled, a warm feeling of affection briefly forming in his chest.

"What a good thing I remembered about him in time, and also guessed to apply his property to absolute mimicry in such an original way." Thought Momonga. "That wouldn't have worked in the game for sure."

As he approached the entrance of London's Heathrow Airport, Momonga, again admiring the rather beautiful view, thought:

"I don't know how they were able to track me by bypassing my divine anti-spy gear, but since they have a way of doing something like that - I certainly shouldn't stay in this country any longer than I should", Momonga decided. "Though it is strange that they have so seriously underestimated me by sending such weak spellcasters. But perhaps the backup they spoke of was of a higher caliber, and those could have gotten me into trouble"

Taking a seat on a vacant bench, and placing a rather massive plastic tube on the ground, Momonga drew out his tickets, which he was able to buy with the forged documents he had made with an object creation spell.

"The tickets were bought for the fourth of October, so I can't use them", he thought, carefully crumpling them in his hand and then tossing them into the garbage can standing next to the bench. "If I can still forge a ticket for Kichiro with the same creation spell, since he won't occupy a seat; it'll be more difficult with me..."

"I need to find a compatriot who is also on his way to Japan right now, and use amnesia control to convince him to sell me his tickets." Momonga decided, getting up from the bench and heading for the glass door of the airport.


"That wasn't so hard...", Momonga sighed, sitting comfortably in his first-class seat.

As it turned out: there really was a small business delegation of three people coming to England, which belonged to some large but unknown to him tech company called Toshiba. So he was able to easily catch one of them in the toilet in order to convince him, with the help of amnesia control, that he had sold his ticket to the strange Japanese for a rather large sum of money, which he could not use anyway, because it, like all such tickets, was named.

"He'll probably think I'm from some rival company that's trying to screw with their company in this weird way." - He thought. - "Chances are he'll be stripped of his bonus, or even demoted, for a misdemeanor like losing a ticket", thought Satoru, making a small allowance for the time he found himself in. "But that's not my concern anymore. Especially since the ten thousand pounds I created yesterday from a few samples-enough to cover any inconvenience he might have, and in the future he won't even think about why he agreed to it then."

Stroking the top of the head of the peacefully sleeping baby in his lap that lay in the compact portable bassinet, Momonga began to remember the past three days.

"So much walking, so much walking...", he thought. "If I weren't undead, I would have been exhausted long ago. I don't know how Paul could survive all this", he thought with an undivided respect that was addressed to the teenager who had been diligently helping him all these three days, and yet, despite his restless curiosity, had not asked him unnecessary questions, such as: why did he need so many geography textbooks and atlases? Or: Why was he looking for a sample passport of a Japan?

"Too bad if he gets in trouble because of me", With regret he thought. "After all, it's people like him and Touch Mee who basically keep the whole world going..."