You called the wrong!

I sat in front of the computer, and, chewing a toothpick, flipped through porn sites.

It's boring.

Another advertisement popped up in the browser window. Spitting on everything, I knocked out the computer and leaned back in my chair. Massaged his eyes.

God, how boring ...

Paul began to shine.

- What the hell is this? - I bent my head to the side, looking at the magic circle that was rapidly expanding throughout the entire room. I read books, I looked at all the crap in the Internet, so I could see that it was a magic circle that could in a couple of seconds.

Having chewed a toothpick a couple of times, I spit it out and, quickly holding out my hand, grabbed an almost new pack of toothpicks from the table. I had such a habit and I really did not want to give it up.

- Well, I hope, I will not split into atoms and will not turn into any skeleton without a member, but otherwise, fuck me ...

The magic circle began to shine, and the call was made.

When the glow faded, I looked around curiously.

Classic throne room with tapestries, stained glass and other garbage. The walls were guards in medieval armor, with swords naked, crowded around decently like courtiers in overdressed and frankly ridiculous outfits for me, and I myself stood in front of the steps that went back to the three thrones. In one of them, a mustache was sitting, a fat man of forty in a golden crown, to his right a plump aunt of the same age in a long white dress with a high collar, and a tall skinny girl in a white and pink dress to the left. The girl's muzzle made me twist and try not to look at her anymore - I want to sleep well and without nightmares.

Silence stood in the hall full - everyone was looking at me, and these views were clearly far from admiration. However, these are their problems.

I snapped the lid of a pack of toothpicks and, taking out one piece of wood, bit its end. He started chewing slowly, wondering what to do.

"Status," I muttered the first thing that came to mind. Oddly enough, it worked.

A small hologram appeared in front of me.

Name: Andrey.

Title: Hero

Level: 1

Abilities:

Ignoring common sense (unic).

Acceleration of progress (from the title of "hero")

Characteristics:

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 10

Perception: 10

Vitality: 10

Power of Thought: 10

Loose points: 10

"Hero," the king suddenly came to life, apparently without waiting for a reaction from me. - Do you understand what we say?

"Well, sort of, yes," I replied, and with a crunch bite into a toothpick in half, I spat it onto the floor. The people around were whispering softly, and the king jerked his cheek slightly.

And after that, I started to rub about the great mission of the cause of the liberation of humanity from the power of neo-Sapiantes ... And, pardon, sorry, this is from another opera ... In general, salvation from evil-minded demons, beastmen, elves, heretics, mutants and other xenos. I looked around carefully. Something the local courtiers do not look starving and depressed. What is the conclusion? I hang noodles on my ears and want to drive for slaughter into the furnace of someone else's war. It is unlikely to be boring, but I don't intend to shed my blood for uncles.

From here our further actions?

Leave and solemnly promise that we will do everything in our power for the benefit of the human race. It seems to believe. Great, now the main thing is to get out of here and fuck quietly. Let the local aristocracy ass wipe some narrow-eyed biorobot.

I was solemnly declared the hero of an all fairy-tale country and, putting a bodyguard in the face of an unsmilingly embossed ambala, was sent to rest in the selected apartments. The room was not so big, but quite spacious, with a large bed, a closet and a small barred window through which only the gray stone of the castle's courtyard was visible.

Flopping on the bed, I put another toothpick into my mouth and quickly laid out the known information.

I am in the world of pseudo-RPG. Why pseudo? Because there is no mana and helppoints. I mean, one good blow to the head will knock out both the nuba of the first level and the hero of the hundred and five hundredth. Following. I'm still a hero, about which my title definitely speaks. Well, let's try to match as much as possible. Speaking of the title, does he seem to be giving something there? Yeah, accelerated pumping. How does it work? Let's put a little experience.

I climbed out of bed and, taking the emphasis lying down, began to push out. For the twenty-fifth time, which I did through force, something quietly stumbled in my ear. Having exhaled quite a bit, I lay back on the bed and checked the status. The power went up by one. What is the conclusion? Need to swing. But we don't touch free glasses - if judged logically, the higher the characteristic, the more difficult it is to pump it. While the system allows, it is better to hope for a natural increase.

Since there was nothing special to do, I killed time with different exercises, catching up to twenty, and agility up to fifteen. The power of thought from some kind of fright, too, was pumped up by two ones, but the rest I had no idea how to swing, so I did not bother.

Exhausted, I walked to the door and, jerking the handle, stuck my head, soaked from training, into the corridor. There calmly stood two ambals in lati.

- Servicemen, I used water rinse rinse, but to eat, eh? Are you organizing, or should I run to the king with such requests?

"It will," one replied shortly in an unfriendly tone, after which he reluctantly headed off somewhere.

I grunted and, closing the door, fell on the bed. Forces almost gone.

Food and water were brought, somewhere in half an hour, the very ambal and the maid in a long brown dress with an apron. Ambal set a big basin with water in front of the bed and went out, and the maid hoisted a tray with fried meat, bread and some kind of liquid green turtle on the table. After that, hesitated a little, asked.

- Mister still wants something?

"Desires," I nodded, then fished a dipper floating in a basin of water. - Fields. It is necessary to wash off the sweat.

I pulled off my T-shirt and, bending over the basin, quickly rinsed my torso and hair under the stream of water from a scoop. While washing, he noted that the maid was sent to me quite young, pretty and with quite a big chest. It smelled good enough of it, which dispelled my fears about medieval Europe washing every six months.

Having wiped off my own T-shirt, I quickly ate everything that was on the tray - I managed to get hungry for the exercises.

- Mister wants anything else? - asked the girl, seeing that I was already beginning to yawn.

"No, you can go," I waved at her door.

The maid uncertainly trampled and, seeing my questioning look, clarified.

- I definitely do not need a lord?

"Hmm ..." I glanced down at her. "What else can you help me with?"

"Anything you want," she answered shyly.

"Well, well," I smiled. - Take off your clothes.

She hesitated a little, but dutifully pulled her bulky dress over her head. A pair of heavy white breasts with defiantly protruding pink nipples and white trousers opened up to my gaze. She hesitated uncertainly, waiting, apparently, for my further orders.

"Well, come here," I patted the bed next to me. - Let's see what you are taught here in the fairy-tale Middle Ages ...

Well, the kingdom made a little mistake with its hero and called the wrong person. But here I will not be bored for sure.