A cycle about a mercenary in the world of boyars
I’m a hired killer, and my job is to cut out tumors from rotten worlds. I name the price when the job is done. If they don’t pay, I kill—like stray dogs. By the hands? Then show me your rotten world.
So, what do we have here? Clan war, underground fights, smuggling of rare creatures… Hmm, I’ve been there, we know that. But—hold on—why does my body belong to a snot-nosed orphan brat? Where’s the handler with the victim’s name? Why is nobody guarding the rifts? And why is this bald guy saying I’m extra on the ring?
Alright, it seems you’ve caught my interest!
– Hey, man, what do you want from me?