He was in a prison cell. Two more inquisitors stood on either side of him, looking straight at the wall, as if trying to spot some kind of rock art. He put his hands on the table and lowered his head. A clock ticked on the wall. As the clock struck 10:10 in the morning, Thomas entered the cell. He immediately jumped in fright.

"Here you are, you freak!" he said.

"You'd better accept it, metentis," Thomas said. "Your fate is already sealed."

"You bastard! How many people have you killed already!"

Thomas walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and said:

“Soon you will begin to envy your friends, whom we killed right away.”

“I am not guilty of anything.”

“Oh, how are you guilty, my friend. In our country there is a rule regarding metentises and the use of metovis.”

"Then kill yourself, you fucking batshit crazy moron!"

"The Inquisition in this country is subject to one law – do what you want, everyone else is subjected to the harsh laws of this country, including newly arrived guests like you and your kind. Sorry about that."

“Don’t say sorry to me, you don’t give a shit!”

“Well, you're right, I really don’t give a shit.”

“You're all a bunch of hypocrites, sooner or later everyone will know everything about you.”

Thomas looked at the other two inquisitors, who were standing stone-faced.

“As I’ve already said. I-don’t-give-a-shit. Take him to the torture chamber.”

“Hey! Don't take me to any torture chamber!”

The first Inquisitor tried to lift the metentis out of his chair, but the metentis clung to it and held on. The second dragged, but without much desire and constantly yawned. Thomas went out the door.

"Get off me! Let me die of hunger, cold, or whatever the fuck, just don't take me to him!"

"Calm down, man."

"Calm down! He tells me to calm down! You're not the one who's going to be tortured by this dead-brain phycho."

"It's your own fault, you shouldn't have come to Agernox!"

"If I had my way, I wouldn't have come here."

"Then accept your death with dignity."

The Inquisitors were trying to unhook the metentis from his chair, but so far to no avail.

"I don't want to die!"

"No one wants to."

"Then release me and I'll run."

"Then I'll be burned."

"Then we'll run away together."

"Shut the fuck up already. Damn! Listen!" he shouted to the second inquisitor. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"He'll decide for himself what to do, you fucking saint! Maybe he doesn't want to help you? Because you're all sick in the head."

The second inquisitor grabbed the metentis' head and slammed him against the table, nearly knocking him unconscious.

The Inquisitors took him by the arms and dragged him down the corridor. They turned several times, to the right, then to the left, and went even lower. Water trickled down the walls, small drops falling into small puddles on the floor. There was a heavy smell of damp and mold. The light was almost gone. The metentis came to his senses and struggled again.

"Calm down already!"

"Stop telling me what to do! You morons want to kill me here! When someone wants to kill you, you're not likely to sit still either. I do what I want before I die, where is my last will or my last wish, eh?"

The inquisitors opened the torture chamber. Thomas was standing in the shadows in the far corner. He waited, rubbing his hands together. The metentis was put back on the chair and chained all over his body.

"Hi!"

"Go to hell!"

"You're out of vitavis, aren't you?"

"Not your fucking business! It's my vitavis, when I want, then I use it."

"You've already lost your chance, buddy."

"All right, I'll tell you everything, but spare me!"

Thomas laughed.

"Look, boys, he'll tell us everything!"

The Inquisitors said nothing. Thomas hung the dark sack over the metentis' head, and he screamed even louder.

"I was forced! I saw those people for the second time in my life! Remove the sack! You can do it without it! I can't see anything!"

"You haven't figured it out yet," Thomas said.

"No, no, no, no, I figured it out, you need information!"

Thomas walked over to the metentis, bent down, and whispered in his ear:

"I don't give a shit about your information. I already know everything."

"Then why do you need me, huh?"

"Because I get incredible pleasure from torture!"

"Maniac! Madman! Can I be tortured by someone other than a psycho?"

"Fuck off, you both."

The inquisitors began to walk out the door.

"Stay, keep me safe from him! Guys! C'mon!"

Metentis was already sobbing with fear.

"Now we're alone."

"Get off me, you pervert! I'm not your wife, to make you happy about it. Hey!Hey! Somebody save me! Oh shit!"

Thomas laughed and said:

"Don't worry, I'll just play with you for an hour. I have another client coming to see me soon. He's a much more important person. Endless pain. (rank 4)"

***

"What's on your mind, Egon? Tell us," said the Guillotine.

"It's an idea, a very bad one – it's more like the only option. We'll go to the Grandfather."

Homer looked at Egon in amazement and asked:

"Wasn't last time enough for you? He almost killed us there. And now you want to come to him in a stagecoach full of money and ask him to hide it all in his warehouse? Do you really think he won't just kill us right away?"

"The same trick won't work a second time."

"What trick?" Guillotine asked.

Egon briefly explained how their previous negotiations had gone.

"If we don't have a choice, I'll try one thing, that might save our asses. Egon, you still have my stuff in the warehouse, right?" Homer asked.

"Yes. Do it. Your stuff’s in the leftmost room."

"Give me a few minutes. Start the stagecoach for now."

They all looked at each other, shrugged, and began to start the stagecoach.

"I don't trust our Candy Kid in such matters. He can plant grass in his garden, have a nice conversation with the person we are robbing or intimidating. You know, if we'll play a bad cop and a good cop, he'll be a good cop, willy-nilly."

"Then what’s your suggestion."

"Let's just attack him, put a blade to his neck, and force him to fulfill our requirements."

"Exactly! Guillotine, it's a good idea, except for the fact that Grandfather's warehouse is full of fucking mercenaries and his own bloody men. Maybe we'll somehow put a blade to his neck, by some miracle or other fucking metovis, I don't give a shit, and he'll let our stagecoach enter the warehouse, but what's next? How are we going to get out?"

"We'll take him with us."

Egon opened the driver's door, stepped into the stagecoach, activated the fire crystal, and the water began to evaporate. He pulled the lever, but the stagecoach didn't budge.

"Push it. It lacks power. The road is even worse because of the all the mud and rain."

"Egon, I think you're ignoring my offer."

“Fuck! Well, what exactly is your plan? Step by step, eh? Here we are, standing at the gate, being searched and having all our weapons taken away. What are you going to do after that? Take some sleepy mercenary's weapon away from him? Are you going to take the Grandfather all over town with us while his gang of psychopaths, thugs, and God knows who else are chasing us? What if he has brothers? Suppose you kill him? And after that, we'll not only be hunted by the Inquisition, but also by a huge gang, right? Is that what you want?”

"Do you think Homer will do better?"

“Absolutely no fucking idea, man. But if something goes wrong with Homer's plan, you can do whatever you want. I am sure that you will always have time to put a sword to the Grandfather’s throat. Deal? He’s afraid of you after our first meet, don’t fuck up your chance. Now push the fucking coach already, there are fifty evil inquisitors coming here, and I have no desire to meet them, especially when I have so much money next to me that I can buy a mountain, build a tower for zeppelins there, and still have enough for my future hundred generations.”

Guillotine spat and, together with Ofir, began to push the stagecoach. At that moment, Homer ran out of the warehouse and started helping them. The stagecoach moved. They all jumped in through the open doors and drove off in the direction of the Grandfather's warehouse.

A few minutes later they reached Roderick's house and turned right. People were already walking through the streets at this early hour, their faces hidden behind their hoods. When they saw a late-model steam stagecoach, they stopped and stared at this alien object.

"According to the sensors, the power of the fire crystal will soon run out. It will need to be replaced."

"Did they sell you the most fucked-up crystals again?"

"No one has sold me anything, the first-rank crystals are included."

"I hope these crystals are reliable."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that they won't accidentally explode with us and our deposits, which any dwarf would envy."

A few doors down from the Grandfather's warehouse, Egon happened to see the black-clad inquisitor right in front of them. He pulled the lever and the stagecoach stopped. All the chests fell from the passenger seats, Guillotine swore.

"What the fuck, Egon!"

He didn't answer.

"Egon, why did we stop so abruptly?"

"I'm sorry… I ... he merged into the darkness of the night."

Ofir, Guillotine, and Homer scrambled over to Egon, looked ahead, and saw the Inquisitor moving toward them.

"There you go, bitch," said the Guillotine.

"I'll try to talk him out of it. He may suspect something, but I don't think he'll attack us right away."

Egon got out of the coach, followed by Homer. Ofir hid behind the trunks in the stagecoach, and Guillotine climbed out the back window.

"What are we carrying?” The Inquisitor asked.

"Good morning!" Homer began.

"What the hell morning? Two more hours until sunrise."

The Inquisitor looked at Egon and asked:

"Is this guy taking something illegal?"

"No."

"We move our stuff from one warehouse to another," Homer continued, swallowing his resentment.

"Why does your stagecoach look like it's packed to capacity with illegal immigrants?"

"You're just imagining it. In fact, we have nothing criminal there, just heavy things."

"Nothing criminal, right?"

"Yes," Egon said. "Can we get through? I don't want to get caught in traffic."

"I'll take a look at your stagecoach."

"Please," Homer said, "that won't be necessary."

"Listen, kid. I have orders to search everything in sight. So, open the fucking doors."

"I just don't want to waste your time and ours."

The Inquisitor drew his sword and pointed it at Homer.

"Please, open the fucking door of this new model stagecoach."

Homer held up his hands and answered:

"All right, all right. Why resort to such radical methods at once?"

Egon, Homer, and the Inquisitor approached the stagecoach, exchanging glances. Homer opened the doors, and the inquisitor saw Ofir sitting on a pile of chests.

"Who is this king on his throne?"

"Our friend, his name is Ofir. We transport things together."

"Who else is with you?"

"No one," Egon said quickly.

"What's in the chests?"

"Things."

"No one in their right mind carries things in chests. And you seem to be in your right mind, except for this Candy kid."

“Oh, fuck off.” Homer cursed suddenly.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Ofir said.

“Did he tell me to shut the fuck up?”

“Yeah, that's what I told you, little sanctimonious.”

“Did you leave the fear in one of the chests?”

“What the fuck Homer?”

“What the fuck where?”

“What the fuck here?”

“I'm sorry, from now on, I'm going to tell everyone who calls me Candy kid to fuck off.”

“He's just on drugs, don't pay any attention to him.”

"Open all the chests. I'll call for backup."

"All the chests? In that case, we'll stay here until lunch."

"I'm not in a hurry. Open the fucking chests! Do I still need to persuade you? Follow the orders of the Holy Inquisition!"

Egon pulled out the first chest and opened it. The Inquisitor saw that the chest was filled from top to bottom with platinum coins.

"What is this?"

"Platinum coins."

The Inquisitor looked around the alley, but there was no one there.

"I see that it's platinum coins, are you going to buy a country for yourself? A simple person can't have a whole chest full of platinum coins!"

"Is that illegal?"

"It's unnatural!"

The Inquisitor scanned the deserted street again.

"Stay here, I'll call the police, we'll drive to the station. And this fucker," the inquisitor pointed a finger at Homer, who was glaring at him and folded his arms "I'll send him straight to the madhouse for treatment."

"Of course, you go, call, we'll wait for you here, right here. Don't even worry." Egon said.

"Are you trying to mock a member of the holy Inquisition?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't even think about it. See, we're here. Everything is fine."

"Do you think I don't remember your face and the faces of your friends? You're running a hell of a black business here!"

"We don't do anything. We just go from one warehouse to another."

"Tell your grandmother that! What district do you think we're in?"

Egon looked around and said that they are in a very dark and quiet district. The inquisitors' nerves completely gave up, he took out his sword and threatened to kill them all.

"Can we just make a deal? We'll save time on everything," Homer said.

"You, bitch, are the first to choose how you die."

“Death by guillotine.”

Before the Inquisitor could reply, Guillotine appeared behind him and smashed him on the head with a club. He fell dead.

"Fuck!" Homer shouted. "You just signed our death warrant!"

"It was already signed from the moment the holier-than-thou saw our money."

"What do we do with a dead fucking inquisitor? Couldn't you have disarmed him or something?"

"Calm down, Homer."

"Calm down? He just killed a man in front of us! How can you stand and watch!"

"In a minute there will be a lot of his friends here, so, we will discuss it later, okay?"

Egon looked at Ofir and said:

"Take the inquisitor and drag him to Roderick, there are 3 minutes to return, and wait for us there. Besides, you already have experience in dragging people."

"Fuck you! I won't leave my money."

"Ofir, for fuck's sake, let's stand here and find out who's going to drag the body, until the police come and politely take it themselves, with us in the bargain and all your money, is that what you want to do?"

Ofir got out of the coach, looked into Egon's eyes, and said:

"Don't lose my money."

Then he took the inquisitor and dragged him by the hand through the mud along the street.