Magic Farmer Dara - 2nd Edition 127 Old Man, Dara, Call

Dara, went along the specified old man's route.

It was not far to go. But he was amazed that the old man was not sitting at home with his grandchildren, but here on a hill. Another March, it's cold. Guards something? Apparently, the hill is not easy.

But remembering the cold eyes of the old man, Dara, clearly did not want to go into any secrets.

Apparently, really under the hill, there is something. Perhaps hollow hills, and some Merlin has been sitting there since the time of the second empire. He conjures over some vessels, makes something. Better to know less, sleep better!

"Look, the general has such a grandson! It's good that he was naive and clearly understood that you don't need to climb here!"

"We need to call and report to the center, about the visit!"

"Pomegranate 21, I pomegranate 45, welcome!"

"Pomegranate 45, I pomegranate 21, welcome what happened!"

"Pomegranate 21, code 010, welcome!"

"Who, welcome"?

"Pomegranate 21, it was the grandson of the Sage!"

... prolonged silence

"Pomegranate 45, leave it to him, he is from Nas.h.i.+ !, hang up!"

The old man was puzzled, did the Sage really become so influential that now even his grandson was allowed to roam the once completely forbidden area.

Times have changed, he thought, puzzled.

Dara, it was all the same to these secrets, as he had just recently learned that his grandfather, uncle, worked in the state security management system. He did not know yet that all his acquaintances and friends, even enemies, were from the same system. And he wondered why he had so much trouble.

But now they all instantly disappeared. Dara, did not know that the "roof" defense reappeared from the club of old management veterans.

Why did it appear? It was still a mystery that only Edinse knew about.

But Dara himself did not even know about it.

Dara walked down the hill, the sun warmed his face pleasantly, the sky was turquoise, not a single cloud. A warm breeze from the valley blew back.

The soil on the hill was hard, beige-brown in color, interspersed with white limestone particles. Feet glided over the soil. So I had to make an effort, straining all the muscles to stay on the hill.

All the same, the choice of galoshes was not the smartest decision.

Dara, I had to do something about it. Remembering the life hack that he somehow released on the Internet. He took a sketch from his backpack. In one embroidery program that he saw on Viosat History, they said that they always had a sketch with them. He will help in any situation. Just now there was one of those.

He tore off the Velcro from which his hood was screaming from his jacket.

Having hardly found the end of the sketch, he turned it around and wrapped galoshes in several places, attaching it to one of the layers of a sticky film of a patch.

Now, for a while, he could walk on the hill without falling. Such a simple device could last 1-2 hours.