Web of light. Part 1.2 chapter 15

And yes, this is my revenge. Revenge for the destroyed clan, which I used to consider my own, for the murdered legacy of at least twelve generations of ancestors, like Amakawa, who were "registered" as a clan of Spirit Hunters about 500 years ago. My revenge is not murder. My revenge is to get back what I've lost, to get it back so that it hits all these schemers who are capable of killing this future with their own hands for fear of their ass and the "future", in the sense of being able to sit the most important thing on the mountain. Sorry and opponents, pawn players, combinators and fans of raking in the heat with someone else's hands. I'm sorry to upset you, but now, from the abstract "general" goal of paragraph (H), "World peace," this goal has become my personal one. Has the Amakawa clan been banned from changing the world? The Amakawa clan will ensure that your warm toilets and "ancestral authorities" are rolled out on a log. So that you don't bother me, I still have to save the world, Ugh, damn, change it!

Chapter 91.

I carefully wrote down the last paragraph on Google docs, under the title: "Useful in memoirs or to stamp on a tombstone." And he went to turn off the "mago indicators", changing them to LEDs. And I need to remember, when even I start to get emotional, I need to write it down urgently, preferably on Google, otherwise the house will be demolished or the hard drive will simply die? They're not joking, maybe everything will really work out and I'll have something to talk about, and, most importantly, when to write my memoirs. In the meantime, let's start small: a map, tell Rinko the edited version about the pacifist Amakawa (wow, how Rinko will support me!), take the transition exams and worry about coming up with a new, useful direction for me for the physics club after the summer. Right now, two thirds of the cast are working on "helping Hiroe and Midori," and their program cycle should be over by the beginning of the holidays. And I need to eat, or something, and really get a good night's sleep. Stress — it still won't go away by itself, even if it was provided to me by the most kawaii loli of the city and the surrounding area.

Chapter 92.

"Hi, Hiroe!"

"Hello, Yuto-kun," the girl did not look up from the adobe maker, and I did not distract her with questions about the weather.

"I have a request for you." Help me choose a mentor in meditation techniques.

"Er-er-er?! Did I hear right?! Meditation techniques?"

"Everything is right."

Hiroe made a ridiculously funny face — wrinkled her forehead, opened her eyes (yes, you can do that too, it turns out) and hung for about twenty seconds.

"Yeah, I'm kind of at a logical dead end. Your request is exactly what you want to know, but I can't reliably guess why you need it. No, no, don't tell me, it won't be interesting." She grinned. "I won't risk choosing myself, I don't really understand. I'll ask my mother."

And so, I'm in front of the doors. Sensei, contrary to all my ideas, settled not in the quiet of the private sector, but in a business city, renting half of a small hangar at one of the business centers. I'm calling. The magnetic lock clicks, I go inside. It's funny! Such a European setting, mats, armchairs, chairs, even stools, but flags painted with hieroglyphs hang from the ceiling: concentration, calmness, attitude, and something else.

"Good afternoon, young man! I'm glad to see you at my school. Have a seat, before we start getting to know each other and I make a first impression about you, tell me why you came? Why do you need meditation?"

"My family had skills passed down from generation to generation, and I need her to restore them. First step: first I need to feel what I can do. Let go of feelings and emotions and feel."

Sensei, an ordinary guy in his thirties, but not under forty, listened intently to my tirade, although before that he looked at me with a smile, something like "wow, what a charm, so small, and already came to study on his own." He looked at me and bowed slightly:

"Please excuse me, I mistook you for one of those who came here hoping to gain, if not superpowers, then to learn how to pull off miracles like manga characters. Well, let's not postpone the lesson."

Now, having adjusted the days of classes to Rinko's schedule, I went to classes twice a week in the evenings, each time amazed at how the teacher still affects the understanding of the subject. When choosing, I would have fallen for oriental tinsel and, according to anime tradition, I would have spent five years on the "first step" (and then I would suddenly have to face danger and abruptly turn around, skipping the rest of the course as unnecessary!).

Here, I was taught specific things: focusing attention, schemes for quickly "entering" a state depending on the degree of fatigue or, conversely, arousal (and no "here's one difficult way for you to cope with impossible hothouse conditions, use it in any situation"), meditation on different moods (road, questions, cognition contemplation, comprehension of the whole), ways to control the duration of the "immersion" time, and even platitudes like "how to meditate on the bus" or "how not to fall asleep while meditating lying down."

As the teacher told me ironically, "combat meditation" was also necessary, it was a favorite way to spend money for 95% of boys and half of adults. The irony was that combat meditation was not an independent technique, but was simply a superposition of derived techniques of a peaceful orientation, such as how "contemplation of the whole" can be used to find weaknesses in an opponent's defense, and the "road" allows not only to escape in time, but can also be used to strike, bypassing protection. By the end of the second week of training, the teacher had abandoned his initial formality when addressing, and we communicated quite amicably, despite the age difference. As sensei explained to me, "seeing" a person for who they are by "breaking through" social markers is another opportunity to "contemplate the whole."

I studied, of course, for money. I didn't have to cut the ration, because my current account, it turns out, provided for tuition fees, and they were not part of the boarding school. Convenient!

The funny thing is that even mastering primary self-control has increased my work efficiency by fifty percent. Strong vivid emotions and feelings now didn't throw me away so much while working on something. For example, one evening, I suddenly managed to "finish" the mobile version of the map for observing high-energy objects, that is, magicians and ayakashi, if they get within the boundaries of the perimeter. My first successful "working" meditation was when, having once again run into a code implementation that I did not understand, I worked out the "road" situation at full speed, with a retreat into contemplation. Hurray!

To completely close the topic of meditation, I will say that a couple of times I came to classes where the teacher was chasing a crowd of assorted men and boys, teaching "combat meditation" from scratch. Well, I turned out to be completely right: a clear victory of anime cliches over reason. Interestingly, all sides were pleased: the teacher — with good money, for which it was worth walking around the hall in a kimono with a yin-yang symbol on his back, looking sternly from under his furrowed brows and making comments mixed with mysterious "like philosophical" meaninglessness, and the students who, looking at this theater, They felt like they were being turned around and covered in glory right in front of their eyes. In advance.

Some, however, actually learned what they came for. For me, the only disadvantage of attending classes was the need to cut off my mobile phone every time. Gradually, I was able to identify and close the most pressing problems in the planned actions. Following the remote control of the card readings, the mobile client that Rinko and I are currently beta-testing on mobile phones, I made the first protective amulet in my life. It was a simple version of the barrier, the same as in the walls of my house and the house in Noihara, or rather, even just a single seal embedded with a magic storage device in Kuzaki's hairpin. Theoretically, this thing was supposed to more or less effectively block not very skillful attempts to take control of the girl's mind with the help of magic. To be honest, I haven't been eager to find out what this will look like in practice yet. The next logical step was the "combined" processing of clothing, when mano-absorbing elements along with accumulators were applied to the intuitively applied base by ferry using "eye technique", that is, seeing what you were doing, right on top of the disorderly reinforcing lines. Why is it intuitive? Because in this form, for some reason, the fabric not only did not pass through the blade of the knife (and, as I believed, the bullet), but also in some way incomprehensible to me began to distribute the force of the blow more or less effectively over the entire surface. So, as soon as I was convinced of the advantages of the new process of applying protection, despite the tedium of the process, I insisted that the girl pull out her entire wardrobe for me to process, for which, for the first time in my life, I received an incredulous, appraising look from Rinko. However, trust in me won out, and Kuzaki dumped out in front of me not only the outerwear I had in mind, but also underwear. That was strong! Both of us walked for two hours in a slightly awkward mood, blushing every time we looked at each other, but my neighbor got two dozen pairs of inseparable armored personnel carriers with the function of absorbing magic, and I repeated the process of creating legendary attributes of any Amazon in practice. Meanwhile, the school academic year was coming to its logical end, the month of May was replaced by June, and the usual lessons were exams, midterms, and other chores. Hiroe and Midori's project was also successfully filmed, there was a mountain of layout and linking, and voice acting in some places, but the journalism club had to handle this on its own.

Having gathered, with the help of the president, the staff of the physics club, I suggested that next year, since we were so good at working with electric motors and studied avionics, we study the transition state of polymers during layering in an automated way. That is, to assemble your own 3D printer, the benefit for this is that the experience of assembling enclosures and drives with small tolerances has been found. Unanimously, as I expected. I'm kind of a wrong hitman, all the heroes of fanfiction anticipate the plot with afterglow and correct the characters' jambs, but I've redrawn the drawings of the Chinese RepRap from memory, which haven't even been posted here (not to the millimeter drawings, just the basic structural diagram of the device) to the public. As always, the people happily sorted out the printouts, promising to get acquainted and have time before the holidays to outline a list of necessary purchases for the school to work on the device, which the president of the club, while he had not yet transferred to secondary school, had to submit to the director and push through. I feel like I won't be able to get away from my command position next year. Hemorrhoids!

Anyway, on my eleventh birthday, I woke up without any misgivings, went to class, passed the social studies test, and went to meditation techniques classes with a calm heart. Which proves once again that I have some kind of dubious luck, because if I had known in advance what would happen during my absence from home, I would never have gone to class. And then it wouldn't have happened.