A zoologist, Artyom Voloshin, died thinking about an invoice for feed mixtures, and then woke up in the body of a young baron.
The inheritance: a sanctuary of magical beasts, four hundred thirty-two gold debts and two hundred eighty-six coppers in his pocket. Plus, a dragon whose size depends on the amount of gold.
And then, in a couple of months, a royal auditor will arrive and recount the species that exist in the glade. There should be six.
There are four.
A genre that’s a bit unusual for me, but once I started writing—I couldn’t stop) I hope you enjoy it!