Spacewalkers

3

My "resurrection" or transmigration into a new body was not accompanied by any visual effects or auditory hallucinations. There were also no visions of the past, the future. There really was nothing at all. I just appeared in a new body and didn't even really feel it. It felt like it was my own. It just hurt wildly.

In fact, as soon as I came to my senses, I felt a wild pain all over my body. She was familiar to me. I remember her. And how to forget her? Such pain settles in the subcortex when you wallow beaten behind garages trying to get cigarettes out of your pocket with shaking hands. It drives in with every blow, methodically, monotonously and aggressively. This is not a fight with punks for the attention of some beautiful girl and not a showdown of who called whom an idiot behind their backs, no. This is a methodical beating, so that a person understands something, remembers it. Only inveterate maniacs and schemers beat like this, it is important for them to teach a lesson so that everyone remembers.

 And now I feel a familiar pain. I feel the salty taste of blood filling my mouth. A couple of teeth are gone. I open my eyes and see a dim light above me. Someone is whispering next to me.

"I told you not to continue...

- Shut up! That jerk should have learned not to tell me how to treat my fiancee! And let everyone understand this!

- But he does not move, what should we do at all?

The young men's voices trembled with fear. And I mentally smirked, understanding the whole situation that had happened here before my appearance.

The guys decided to teach my new body a lesson because of the relationship with the bride of the main "cockerel" in this gang. He decided to leave a message for everyone and everyone. They took him to a secluded corner, beat him, but due to inexperience they did not calculate their valiant strength, and they beat the guy. Otherwise, how would I get into it? Here it’s a no brainer that for this it was necessary to ditch him. The body became an empty shell into which I was placed. I hope he didn't screw up...

- You look! He moved! I saw the head move! - the guy exclaimed with relief, when I shook my head slightly, working out the stiff neck.

My body was numb from the uncomfortable position I was in. He sat with his back against something with his head thrown back. The back of my head felt the cold surface. My chest squeezed a little with each breath, but not as much. Perhaps the ribs are broken or cracked, not so fatal. The main thing is to take short breaths so as not to pierce the lung, they say it helps.

- Pick it up! - ordered the chief in a serious tone.

They approached me. Grasping fingers gripped my clothes and lifted me to my feet, forcing me to stand upright. Everything was spinning before my eyes and I felt sick - a sign of a concussion.

From the shadow of the room, where the light of the lamps did not reach, a young guy of medium height came out. A pressed black uniform, blond hair slicked back. Handsome, in a word, that's just fear in his eyes. He is afraid and I can see it. I suppose pictures of what he will do with the body are now rushing through his head. How to convince your sixes to keep quiet about a dead guy who was beaten a little harder than they wanted. Yes, I'm alive now, but who knows. I won't live to see the next day.

But all this would be, if the old master were in his body. Now I am in it, and I have a system. Right now, I feel my muscles swell with strength. I hope this guy’s body wasn’t completely weak, otherwise it simply won’t withstand the load.

- Hey, you! Try again to start telling me how to behave...

I didn't let him agree. Throwing up his hand, he grabbed his hair and pulled him to introduce his face to his knee. From such a blow, I was a little shaken, but I resisted thanks to the support of the "sixes" standing on the sides. They didn't even understand what was going on.

I went downstairs and pulled them along with me. Frightened of the fall, they let me go, bouncing back.

- All right, bitch, I'll bury you! - the guy who got up from his knees shouted in anger, wiping the blood gushing from his broken nose with his sleeve.

Failed to break. Strength is not enough. The body turned out to be very weak and not developed. As if the previous owner generally avoided physical training. In vain. Now it could be easier for me. Damned egoist. No wonder he died in such a mess. Guys like these, who are used to fighting opponents of equal strength, are very surprised when an ordinary weak kid falls with one blow. They do not believe in his fragility, they begin to beat again and again, each time putting more strength into a new blow. Apparently, that's why the guy died in whose body I'm in. Turned out to be weak.

"Don't rush so hard," I said with a smirk, stepping away from the blow.

Having intercepted the hand of the “six” attacking me from the left, I decided to use the only method that compensates for the difference in strength and involves experience and knowledge - sweeps and throws. They required knowledge of the enemy's weak points, the determination of points of support and the order of movements.

Grab the hand, pull it towards you, take a step to the side and then sharply hit the supporting leg and that's it. The enemy flies down. No wonder I spent so much time in training, oh no wonder. Although he was preparing for the life of the awakened in Hub City, but who knew that fate would decide everything differently.

The second kicked me in the side. I saw the blow, I was ready to dodge it, but the body turned out to be slow. So much so that the opponent's boot half hit me, hitting me in the stomach closer to the right side. Having flown to the wall, at the same time I dodge the blows of the main boy. He knows how to fight, knows how to hit and where to hit, tries to use some tricks unknown to me. A kick to the groin reduces his entire fighting spirit to a minimum. It's in the movies that they fight according to some rules. In fact, no one cares how you won, the main thing is that you did it. That's what I figured out first.

- Rat! Who beats ... uh-hhh, - the guy groaned, bending over from pain between his legs, - Kill this scum!

His cry stirred up the "sixes" forcing them to go at me again. Dodging the first fist flying at my face, I hit him in the eye with the knuckle of my bent finger. He screamed in pain and fear. Everyone is scared when they hit in the eyes and deprive of vision, albeit temporarily. Cruel, but effective.

The second struck with a sweeping blow, but his hand trembled. He was afraid to come closer to me, and therefore he simply tried to keep me at a distance. At the moment when he again repeated the movement with his hand, I intercepted it and, pressing my fist with my palm, bent the brush down. Then it remained only under his groaning and gasping from pain to twist the limb until the shoulder joint crunched, and then finish it off with a boot blow to the back of the head when it fell to the floor.

- My eye! I do not see anything! Eye!

"Shut up, you," I said displeasedly, kicking him in the face and forcing him to shut up.

I looked around tiredly, trying to breathe less often. But the "breathing" of this body was to hell. Was he smoking?  

- Everyone will know! I won't leave it like this! - Holding on to his repulsed dignity, the guy hissed, kneeling, - I'll rape your bitch sister on the first night! Haha!

I don't know why, but I was overcome with anger. I wanted to smash his face and continue to kick him until his head explodes like an overripe watermelon that has fallen on the pavement. So much so that the remnants of his brain are imprinted in bloody expressionism on the walls of this room.

I lifted my foot, pointing the boot straight at his face. He tried to somehow crawl out, but I hesitated. I wanted to strike, but I doubted. The former owner of the body has a sister, and she is the fiancee of this idiot. If I kill him now, it could destroy more than one life. But if I leave, then perhaps I will find an enemy who can interfere with me. Judging by his physique and behavior, he is not from a poor family with noble manners, most likely some kind of heir to a galactic corporation or something. A difficult choice, on which the fate of people I do not know depends. But what do I care about them...

A kick with a boot broke the nose on the guy's face. He screamed. I tried to close it with my hand, but I stepped on one in time, and broke the second one with an accurate blow to the elbow.

- Enough! Please! Stop it! - the guy moaned, sobbing in pain, not even trying to escape, - I'll do everything! I won't, hey! I won't hurt your sister!

“I don’t care about her, I don’t even know who she is,” I answered, and then hitting the guy in the face knocked him out.

Seriously, enough cruelty for today. Lesson taught, taught fear, yet honor to know. I need to look for witches in space.

As I took a step forward, I nearly fell over. Head spinning, legs wobbly. Still, this body was pretty spoiled. If there were real fighters in the place of these guys, he would have died without even having time to move, it’s not for you guys to “mutuz” the green ones. Well Tria! I shoved the hell out where and the devil understand who, now ...

I threw up. Bile mixed with blood stained the floor and my black patent leather boots. In order not to fall with my hand, I lean against the wall, and then I completely press my side against it, and so I walk along the corridor dragging along the wall. With every step I take, it gets worse and worse, it gets dark before my eyes.

A soft thump touches the ears. As if a domestic cat is running along the parquet, barely audibly turning over with its paws. Turning my head to see the one running towards me, I could only make out a dark blurry silhouette, and then a muffled voice said:

"Idiot, what have you gotten yourself into again?"

And that's it, consciousness left me when someone's hands grabbed my shoulders.

Strength increased to lvl 2.

Endurance increased to lvl 2.

Acquired a new skill - Dexterity lvl 1.

The system notification greeted me with purple tints as soon as I came to my senses.

I tensed inwardly, preparing to feel the full effects of the concussion and broken ribs. But there was nothing. It surprised me a little. After all, it cannot be that there are healers in this world. Although there are witches who are destroyed by the gods. Why not take healers?

When I open my eyes, I see a crystal-white ceiling above me. Soft light pours from all sides, illuminating a round room with soft walls. On the right side, something buzzes and creaks, on the left, a light flashes irritably under the monitor.

Turning my head didn't hurt, and trying to get up didn't make me dizzy or nauseous. Good. Someone healed me. Perhaps the workers of this place, it was not for nothing that the former owner of this body was taken to a secluded corner for a personal conversation.

So! I have promotion notices here, apparently my fight still gave some results. We must look.

Mentally, I focused on the stat window, just like I did in Hub City. But unlike that bluish window with a bunch of numbers, purple appeared. All the words were written in neat calligraphic handwriting and did not hurt the eyes at all with sharp edges. Tria did her best.

Let's see what I got there:

Name: Crillius Aster Regulus III

Race: Human

Age: 19

Skills:

Strength - 2ur.

Endurance - 2ur.

Agility - 1lvl.

Skills:

Search for witches - passive.

All. Not particularly thick. But here's a name. M-yes. I feel like a high-born bastard used to bathing in luxury. There are many servants and concubines around. Damn, yes, I will be glad if I find myself in such a luxury at least once in my life. The only thing I had was meetings with prostitutes in a brothel, for everything else there was simply neither time nor desire. I spent everything so that my brother could study normally and not know the life in which I found myself. Damn I miss him so much...

Finally, I got up and sat on the edge of a white bed. She floated in the air in the center of the room, emitting a thin, barely perceptible rumble that you could not hear at all if you did not concentrate. Around me, the white walls were full of numerous holographic monitors, frozen in space at the level of my head, the manipulators hovering under the ceiling slowly retracted into the opened hatch, apparently so as not to strain me.

Running my hand along my thigh, I moved up to my chest. Nothing hurt, from pressing my fingers on the ribs, my lips did not curl up from a sharp pain. I was wearing a loose white sweater, and the same baggy pants. The material is very pleasant to the touch, almost weightless, it seemed that I was sitting with my bare ass in the middle of the room, like some kind of nudist.

Slowly getting up from my bed, I was surprised to feel the warm floor under my bare feet. The legs were smaller than mine, the pollen thinner and not as calloused. More accurate, as if they had gone through many sessions of care with a beautician. The hand reached out to the crotch in a familiar gesture. There was a certain fear in my mind that what I found there would turn out to be much smaller, but it was the other way around. More. I was pleased, but the joy was mixed with a certain envy and a feeling of inferiority. Although, the thought that this body is now mine removed all gloomy thoughts.

- Well, what about our appearance? I asked as I looked around the room.

I wanted to go up to some monitor and look at the reflection on its surface. But it was as if someone heard me, and the soft walls parted to the sides, showing a mirror surface with my reflection.

I was right in thinking that the previous owner of the body did nothing. He was thin and tall. Slightly taller than me in a past life. It is unusual to see this undeveloped body and understand that it is you. There are no muscles at all, clothes hang in a bag as if I were a victim of a concentration camp. Bruises under the eyes, a slightly pretty face, but with some Nordic notes. Wide forehead, strong cheekbones. Yes, if I had such a face in the past, I would bathe in female attention and arrange orgies every day. No one would let such a handsome man go just like that.