Tursed my worid upside down

Jiro sat in his room. The candle on the table was burning low. It did not provide enough light to read another book that he had taken from the castle's vast library and brought to his estate.

The man put his reading aside and leaned back in his chair, picked up the bell and made one lazy movement.

"You called, sir?" a young boy in the gray robe of an ordinary slave looked through the half-opened door.

"Bring new candles and wine. Oh, yes. Call Kaimi to me."

"Yes, sir," the slave bowed low and left.

"Where did you disappear to, little sly nephew?" the man asked himself.

He waited for his assignments to be completed and, as always when he tried to take a break from work, he thought about the unfairness of his fate. Jiro was born second in the royal family. Just twenty seconds after his older brother, and those twenty seconds deprived him of the opportunity to become the ruler of Anatodom. In a week, he would be sixty-five. In his lifetime, he had fathered two sons and three daughters, while his brother had only been able to plant seed in his wife once, and that was at an advanced age.

Jiro waited. And he endured, but when he finally got to his nephew, what happened? The little bastard was gone, leaving behind only a flash of white light and a charred circle in the middle of the room. How did he do it and where was he hiding now? These thoughts had been haunting the man for the past few days, but he knew one thing. He had to find Klaus. Otherwise, all his efforts would go to waste. He had to find the true heir. Then he would finish off his brother and take his rightful place!

"You called, sir?" A thin and tall middle-aged man in a purple robe, which emphasized his status as a high slave, appeared in the doorway.

"Kaimi." Jiro made an inviting sign with his hand, and the slave entered the lord's room. A slave in a gray robe slipped behind him as quietly as a mouse and went about his duties.

"How can I help you today? My power is at your disposal."

"I want to test the limits of your abilities. I need to find my nephew, but your amulets don't work. Can you create something stronger?"

"With all due respect, sir, but the amulets I make for you are very powerful and will always find their target, even if it is on the other side of the world."

"I see," the old man said thoughtfully, and slowly raised his gaze from the burning candle to Kaimi, "and if the target is not in our world?"

"I'm afraid that's unlikely. It takes incredible power to transport a person to another world. Your nephew can't have such abilities."

"He could have had help."

"Do you know who it could have been?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't have spent so much effort looking for the bastard! So can you do it? Find him, wherever he is?"

"I can create an amulet for the search, but it will take a few days and I will need some things, including something close to the young master. Something that was with him most often."

"I think I have such a thing. Will his sword do?"

"That would be great. Such energy will allow me to create a powerful talisman and attach it to the boy, so that you will always know where he is."

"Do not delay and get down to business at once. I give you two days and this slave at your disposal," he waved his hand at the boy, who had completed his orders and was standing quietly at the door. "Do with him what you want and take what you need, referring to my order."

Kaimi bowed and left the room of his master, who reached for a filled glass of wine and smiled at his thoughts.

***

"I warned you. Act as if you... As if you yourself were a slave," it dawned on Egor what comparison would be more suitable so that Klaus would finally understand him.

"Do you understand what you are asking me for?" the young man was indignant.

"Yesterday I didn't tell grandma anything about your prank, but I won't hide anything anymore! Do what I ask you!"

"Are you trying to threaten me?"

"No, of course not," Egor raised his voice, losing patience "I want to help you. I want to fulfill my promise to grandma and, most importantly, I want you to get out of my bed, my room and my life as soon as possible!!!"

"You're right. I want to go home too. I'll try to listen to your advice. Let's say you've been promoted to a higher slave and become my advisor."

"How noble of you, my lord," Egor said skeptically.

"And you learn quickly," Klaus laughed, and Egor froze for a few seconds, amazed by the scene he saw. He couldn't even imagine that this gloomy and angry face could smile like that. Sincerely. The guy involuntarily laughed in response.

***

Sveta was tired and really wanted to get home to relax. Her eyes were sticking together and, in order not to fall asleep while driving, the girl turned up the music and began to sing along languidly. Just a little more. She was halfway there, but the quiet highway leading to her hometown was boring. And sleepy.

The girl was struggling with her last bit of drowsiness when a sharp white flash right in the middle of the road brought her to her senses. The wheels squealed from the sudden braking, but when the car stopped, the flash had already disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

- That's it, I need to stop working at night. I'm already hallucinating.

Caution took its toll and Sveta, before continuing the journey, nevertheless got out of the car, walked around it, but found nothing. As expected. The girl had already opened the door and was about to drive on, when a flash appeared again in the same place, and a bright beam flew straight into the girl's forehead. Slight confusion. Drowsiness was removed by hand. Sveta got behind the wheel, but thoughts of rest evaporated. There was only one thought in her head: "I have to find him."

The car started moving. The girl did not know where she needed to go, but she was sure that her body would lead her to the right place. "I have to find him," sounded in her head.

***

Klaus stood at the bar, as Egor had told him. He looked around. A dark room, parquet floor. The bar was made of quality wood, high chairs, rows of elite alcohol and a handsome, slender bartender wiping glasses.

Around the perimeter of the room were massive tables made of the same wood as the bar. Leather brown sofas in a semicircle created an atmosphere of privacy for each table. Quiet jazz music was playing, it smelled of alcohol and some herbs.

Several customers were smoking hookah. It was probably the hookah that was giving off the strange aroma. No matter how peaceful it was, Klaus didn't like this place. Yes, maybe if he had come here under different circumstances, he would have happily drunk a couple of glasses of wine and relaxed over a smoking mixture, but he wasn't here to relax. It was the fact that Klaus would have to work here that infuriated the guy the most. He didn't like this place because it would become his own hell. It would turn the crown prince into a slave-servant. It would plunge his pride headfirst into the toilet and drown him, giving him no chance of salvation.

Klaus looked up and noticed that the ceilings in the center of the room were very high. To the right of the bar there was a staircase leading up, and the young man noticed that the ceilings were lower around the perimeter, and above them was a second floor, enclosed by a parapet, like a balcony above the main stage. Most likely, special guests were gathering there. From where Klaus stood, it was difficult to see what was happening on the second floor.

The young man watched the newly appointed advisor as he talked to the beautiful brunette. A woman in her prime with excellent curves. Klaus thought she was a little over forty, but she carefully hid her age and did it very well. Slender, with large breasts and wide hips. Her business suit emphasized all her advantages. Klaus knew that there was such a miracle in this world as plastic surgery and he had no doubt that the owner of the establishment did not skimp on its use.

In his world, women also often used the services of designers, who, thanks to their abilities, could improve their appearance, take a few years off or hide scars, but only externally. No matter how you look at it, old age cannot be defeated with a couple of tricks or skillful use of a surgical knife. While Egor was saying something to his boss, she was throwing appraising glances at Klaus, which made the hairs on the guy's arms stand on end. Is this how a slave feels when someone wants to buy him? Not a very pleasant feeling. Egor called the guy over and Klaus, overcoming the desire to turn around and leave, approached the couple.

"Hello, Klaus. Egor said you were looking for a job?"

"Yes, that's true," he squeezed out of himself.

"You have no experience, I take it?"

"That's right. This is my first job...," he said hesitantly.

"My bar is difficult and I usually don't hire people from the street who have no idea what a waiter's job is, but," she glanced at the young man and smiled "considering your appearance, I'll turn a blind eye to your lack of experience."

"So I take it i've been accepted?"

"For a probationary period for now. Are you ready to start today?"

"Let's not put off the inevitable."

"Excellent. Then, Egor, I entrust him into your hands. Explain how everything is arranged and choose a uniform," with these words the woman left.

"Everything went well," Egor smiled. "I hope you will fulfill your promise and follow my advice and instructions. Don't forget, this is in your interests too."

"You are my advisor, I will listen," Klaus answered evasively, but Egor was satisfied with this. Progress is obvious.

The semi-darkness of the bar gave way to bright utility rooms. The young men walked along a long corridor, passing the kitchen, where the elderly chef was yelling at his subordinates, who were preparing for the influx of customers. After passing a couple more closed doors, or rather a freezer and a warehouse, Yegor turned into the staff locker room. The men's section.

"This locker is free, you can take it for yourself. Now we'll pick out a uniform for you. Do you know how to use an iron?" He turned to Klaus and, seeing his expression, added "I'll iron everything myself. Wait a bit."

"I'll take a look around while you're busy."

"Please, don't do anything stupid."

"I'll just take a look around."

This didn't console Egor, but he didn't say anything and went on to search for Klaus's uniform, which consisted of tight black trousers, a white shirt, an apron, and black patent leather shoes.

Klaus came out of the men's locker room and bumped into two pretty girls in white blouses, black tight skirts with an eye-catching slit on the thigh and carefully styled hair on top of their heads. The girls looked at him appraisingly and, giggling, passed on. There weren't many people there, but all of them, not counting the elderly chef and, perhaps, the kitchen workers (Klaus saw them only briefly), were attractive in appearance. Klaus thought about Egor and only now realized that he, too, was quite attractive. Not in the way that was accepted in his country. The young man was frail and short. His beauty was more like a woman's. Egor would definitely have been sold to a house of pleasure in Klaus's homeland. And he would definitely be popular there, but more among men than women.

"Getting acquainted with the new workplace?" Klaus heard the sugary voice of the boss.

"Yes" he answered briefly.

"You are not a man of many words. That is a plus, but please, when you go out to take orders, make your face more... more kind or something."

"I will try."

The woman came closer. Close enough for the young man's muscles to tense. Yes, she was a woman, but a dangerous woman. Klaus did not yet understand what exactly this danger consisted of, but his instincts had never failed him.

"Call me Clara. My subordinates always call me by my first name," she reached her hand to his face and fixed a few hairs that had escaped from his ponytail. "I like your hair. This style definitely suits you, what does that mean?" She tried to touch one of the tattoos on Klaus's face, but he stopped her hand.

"I don't like being touched without permission."

"Be a little easier. You can be touched a lot in this place without permission."

"Then it could be a problem."

"I hope it's not, of course, if you really want the job."

"Klaus, everything is ready" Egor's face looked out from the men's locker room.

"Yes, I'm coming. I need to change. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"That's enough for now. Let's see how you show yourself today and decide."

"Good."

Klaus turned around and headed towards Egor. This would be more difficult than he thought. Now the young man would have to try on the role of a slave, not even a middle-level one, but the lowest one, well, we'll adapt to the situation. All means are good for victory. If he has to stay in this world for a while, then he must make every effort to make the most of it.

Egor explained Klaus's duties and with each new point the young man's face grew pale. He understood that the imaginary prince was not ready for this kind of work. Serving someone was beyond his strength.

"And most importantly," Egor summed up "do not forget about my grandmother's decision. It will depend on whether you are hired or not. She is a kind woman, but if you anger her..."

Egor fell silent, and shuddered at the memories of when he himself managed to anger Pouoka. She is terrible when angry. His grandmother raised the boy from the age of six. He barely remembered his parents. The official version is a car accident, but the young man felt that everything was not so simple and banal. The grandmother adhered to the official version and all those rare moments when Egor managed to anger the woman were directly related to his parents. He wanted to know the truth, the old woman did not want to talk. She brought out her anger in different ways. The first time, Egor had to memorize fragments of an uninteresting book for a whole week and tell his grandmother about it in the evenings. He still hates this history, but he remembers every line.

The second attempt to find out the truth led to him having to do all the housework for two weeks at the age of nine. That's how he learned to cook, plan a budget, and not throw his things around.

The third attempt at sixteen led the teenager to more tragic consequences. His grandmother threw him out of the house with the bare necessities and a meager budget, which was barely enough for two days to feed himself with bread and water. Egor knew that Poгoka wouldn't let him in for at least a month. So the guy got a job, learned to choose the places for sleeping, and use the shower at the institute not only after physical training, which he didn't do at all.

Now Egor is eighteen and he has learned his lesson. If you want to know something about your parents, find another source of information. If you want a quiet life, don't argue with your grandmother when she asks you to do something convincingly. And now he is standing there trying to explain to the proud idiot that he will have to serve the bar's customers to help Pouoka, and Egor will have to look after Klaus for the sake of a quiet life.

"Yes, and while you have free time, study the menu." Egor gave his final instructions and for the first time began to pray in his mind that everything would go well.

"I already know the entire menu. I know everything you know."

Egor shuddered. He didn't believe in the crazy story about another world and magic. At most, Klaus came from a backwater where modern technology hadn't reached yet, and there was no democracy.

"Okay, are you ready?"

"No."

Egor just spread his hands, and the young people went out into the hall, where guests were gradually arriving and waiters from the previous shift were already bustling about.

At first, Klaus was doing great. The first five minutes. While he was standing at the bar and studying the people.

"It is not your responsibility to guard the bar." Clara's voice was heard.

Klaus silently looked at the woman and frowned.

"Look, you see three girls coming in? Go up to them, show them to a table and hand out menus. Just not with such a threatening face, I beg you."

The woman enjoyed how the young man's discontent grew, but he could not object to her. She did not know why he so desperately wanted to work here, although he was completely unsuited for it, but she loved power, and now she had it.

Klaus had to make a lot of effort to convince himself that there was no other way out. He took three menus from the counter and left, feeling humiliated.

Egor nervously watched his pseudo-brother, ignoring the order he was taking at that time.

"Welcome," Klaus greeted the girls dryly. "Please follow me."

The girls exchanged glances, but still followed the strange waiter, who, apparently, was doing them a favor with his presence, and not trying to please the guests.

"When you decide on the order, call." And he quickly went to his favorite place.

Several hours passed, and Klaus managed to serve several tables. He considered himself a hero who had passed the most important test in his life, but the boss had a different opinion.

"Klaus, out of four tables, three have asked to change waiters. This is the first time I've encountered this. Anyway, I'm giving you one last chance. Go for a smoke break and finally start working."

The young man nodded and walked calmly towards the back exit, where the employees had set up a smoking room. Unperturbed on the outside, but not on the inside. Panic was growing, he understood that he had failed. He hated losing more than submitting, and that was exactly what was happening now. He had made a choice between two evils.

"Hi! We didn't even have time to introduce ourselves," there was a girl leaning against the wall with a cigarette in her teeth. The waitress.

"Hello. Klaus."

-"I'm Mia. Nice to meet you. Do you smoke?"

"No. Just went out for some fresh air."

"Look, I know it's your first day and you're nervous, but Clara won't wait around for you to get used to the job. The pay is good and the tips are decent. Let me give you some advice."

"Yes, I'm listening."

"Stop worrying, be friendly and smile."

"This isn't just one piece of advice, but three."

"Trust me, if you use these three tricks, you'll immediately become a leader and get the biggest tips."

"Why do you need this? I'm basically your rival. Why help me?"

"I've known Egor for a long time and he's a nice guy. I don't want him to be upset that his brother didn't get the job."

After that, the girl smiled and left. Klaus stood there for a few more minutes, thinking about what to do. He knew how he should behave even without Mia's advice, but theoretical knowledge and practice are different things.

"This is a battle, and all means are good for victory - having said this out loud, Klaus felt a little better. After all, self-deception is the best motivator he knows."

"Back? And there, just your last chance," Clara said with a smile, pointing at the crowd of guests who had just arrived.

"Clara, do you think this is a good idea?" One of the waiters, whose name Klaus didn't know, was taking his order at the bar counter, but he didn't like him, that's a fact.

"Sergey, who do you think I am?"

"The owner of the bar. The boss?"

"Do you think I need your advice?"

"No, sorry," he answered, looking down, and quickly left.

Klaus looked at the crowd. He counted sixteen people. Different ages, but all in business suits, or something like business suits.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"This is a group of office workers who decided to take a rest after a long work week. They will be the best option for me to decide whether to hire you or not."

"As you say." With these words, he took a stack of menus and headed towards the guests. "Here it is - my first battle on the enemy field." He thought and said "Welcome. Please follow me, I will show you to the table."

A smile lit up the young man's face. Several girls in the company giggled, and the guests followed the waiter. Polite treatment, hints on the menu, a smile not descending from the face - all this was done by experienced slaves, serving the masters at receptions. This was what Klaus did, trying to get the main prize of the evening - a job.

Egor watched the arrogant bastard and couldn't believe his eyes. Who is this? Where did he put Klaus? Is this man capable of behaving like this? Clara, with her hands folded on the bar counter, smiled slyly. Sergey was seething with indignation. He didn't need a new competitor. Mia, stealing a glance at Egor, was also smiling to herself. Klaus was seething with indignation, but continued to play the impeccable game of a slave-servant.

"You surprised me! I'm serious! My jaw almost dropped! Where did you learn to do this? Don't say I did. I can't do it!"

It was already two o'clock in the morning and the young people were heading home. Another advantage of working in this bar is that it is a ten-minute walk from their apartment.

"I am observant. I saw how slave servants looked after guests at receptions. Yes, I didn't think that such skills would be useful to me," Klaus grimaced.

"Grandma will be pleased!"

"I hope so.?

Unfortunately, Klaus's astonishing goodwill and courtesy extended only to work.

***

"Get up and make coffee yourself!"

"How can I? I have you, Klaus was indignant."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm. Not. A. Fucking. Servant." Egor answered, enunciating each word, and nevertheless went to make coffee.

"That's better."

"Asshole!"

"Boys, stop this nonsense. You're already giving me a headache!"

"Sorry, grandma, it's just that this unbearable..."

"Egor, watch your language!"

The young man, puffing with indignation, made coffee and mentally cursed the rude prince. What else could he do?

"I'm impressed that you've settled in so quickly and haven't caused yourself any problems in a week."

"I'm just fulfilling our agreement. The question is, when will you start fulfilling your part, old woman?"

"I'm working on it. It's been fifty years since I came to this world and I don't remember the exact place. I need you to take me back to where you came from."

"Will that help you? Then I'm ready right now."

"We have a shift at the bar today."

"To hell with the bar if I can go home!"

"Take your time, young man. It's just a step. Didn't I tell you that it wouldn't be that easy to get you home?"

"My patience is running out. How much longer must I pretend to be a servant slave?"

"Egor says that you're doing quite well," the old lady giggled.

"Are you reporting everything to this old lady?" Klaus was indignant.

"I just said that you're doing great and grandma has nothing to worry about," Egor began to justify himself.

"Regular customers, a pile of napkins with phone numbers and tips twice as big as my grandson's," Pouoka didn't let up.

"Grandma," her grandson tried to stop her.

"You little...," the prince was seething with anger, getting up from the table and heading towards Egor.

"Coffee! I have hot coffee in my hands! I could accidentally burn you!"

"That's it, stop playing games. Let's talk about serious problems already," Pouoka calmed her grandchildren.

"Are you talking about your imaginary world again?"

"It's as real as you are," Klaus said rudely.

"Okay, okay. Here's your coffee. I'll go read. I need a break from you."

Egor went to his room. More precisely, it became Klaus's room, and he just slept on the rug next to him, like a faithful dog.

"So, old woman. What's your plan?"

"We have several problems. The main one is the lack of sources of magic in this world."

"And how can we fix it?"

"First, I need to visit the place where the portal opened before thinking about further actions."

"If I still have to stick to the plan and live here, then the day off will be in two days. We can go there the day after tomorrow."

"Great. That's what we'll do."