50 French people

Sona didn't remove the smug grin from her face and openly enjoyed Michael's suffering. Maia still stood to the side, looking uncertainly at her best friend and occasionally glancing at Michael.

He let out a very long sigh and looked up at the heavens. "Jasmine, save me."

Jasmine, meanwhile, was trying to make out a bunch of documents left by Zeus, the bastard went on a "vacation" to visit his children. If she knew enough about Zeus - and she knew a whole fucking lot - then the horny grandfather most likely wanted to arrange a sex marathon to bypass the ban on contact with mortals that was imposed on him, so he went to his own children. But that awful story is for another time.

"Apparently we need to talk." Michael said as he returned his gaze to Sona.

"No problem. Maya, can you wait for me at home?" She turned to her friend and Maya nodded meekly. Sona smiled and kissed her on both cheeks. "Don't worry, I'll be right back."

"Good." Maya turned around and went her own way, leaving Michael and Sona alone. She only hoped that no one noticed how red her cheeks were.

Sitting down on the edge of the ice bridge spanning the river, the reincarnator and the ex-cripple mafia were silent for a couple of long minutes until Sona began to speak.

"So who are you? Someone like the characters from the manga who died, transported to another world with a bunch of superpowers?" She asked in French and this time Michael was able to hear when she switched to another language.

"As if." He chuckled. "If I had a choice, I would come here with... Hell, I don't even know, Saitama's power? Or Rimuru Tempest's abilities." Sona nodded meaningfully and began dangling her legs over the water. "What about you?"

The girl rolled her eyes and smiled. "I'm as basic as they come. No powers, not even Bending."

"Seriously?" Sona nodded. "Have you even met your God?"

Sona wrinkled her nose and threw a rock out of nowhere into the water. A ripple flowed in circles from where it fell, and when the river became calm again, she answered. "No I met her, alright. Anime God can be a big asshole." Michael coughed and looked at her in shock. "I got hit by a truck on my way home and the next moment I'm standing naked in front of a loli eating chips. She said I wouldn't make a great show and sent me to live a normal life." She said irritably and threw another stone into the water.

"I'm… Sorry?" Michael wasn't sure how to react to this.

"Don't be. I was an ordinary girl before death too. Working as a cafe manager and all, it's not like I have any knowledge to move this world into the future." She sighed heavily and lay down on the bridge, ignoring the people who had to walk around them. "No knowledge in practical science, social science or martial arts. I'm just grateful that I got a second chance and got out of that country."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with France?"

"I hate the French people."

"You were French."

"Your point?"

"Meh. I have something like that too, only I don't like British people."

"Why?"

"The first English gentelmen I met shot me in the leg. The second tried to stab me." He shrugged. "Although the second one is on me. I stole his wallet, but in my defence, he was a fucking tourist."

Rising on her elbow, Sona looked at Michael from head to toe. "You know, if you put on a long dark coat, then you can immediately be thrown into the edgelords category. Well, if you take off the white fluffy gloves."

Pulling on his gloves, Michael rolled his eyes. "My gloves are awesome, thank you very much."

Michael and Sona didn't know how long they sat on the edge of the bridge, talking about trivial things from their past lives, but eventually their conversation shifted.

"So what are you going to do in the future?" Michael asked. "Will you stay here?"

Sona nodded with a small smile. "Yes. I have found my place and I am not going to leave it. I have enough reasons to stay." Her smile widened and she looked in the direction Maya had gone.

Connecting the obvious dots in his head, Michael chuckled and stood up from the edge of the bridge. "Well, that's good. The main thing is to confess to her, you yourself know what will happen in a few days, so make it quick."

Leaving for the hotel, Michael was immersed in his own thoughts. 'So there are reincarnators in other worlds too... It complicates things but doesn't change my situation, I should only worry if they are aggressive or insane.

'How many people have been reborn as completely ordinary people? How many received wishes and became extraordinarily powerful?' Michael paused for a moment, finding an interesting thought tickling his mind. 'How many people go on the path of rebirth?'

Shaking his head, he looked up and noticed that he was in an almost abandoned part of the city. It was a training ground for young Waterbenders and there was no one on it right now. Knowing that most likely no one would be here until morning, Michael decided to use a couple of hours before going to bed for practice. He took a deep breath and felt the world around him became sharper.

After the "return" of his Aerokinesis - as well as with Hydrokinesis - he felt stronger. His Chi didn't get bigger and he didn't gain better control, but something definitely changed. He had no idea what exactly had happened to his body or, God forbid, his soul, but now he could control much more water and air.

Raising his hands to the sky - not that the movement was necessary, but it definitely helped with control - Michael led the water and shaped it into a shape resembling a human body.

This was his last project, water clones stolen straight from Naruto. He tried to work on them during the voyage, but there were too many people on the ship, no privacy. Now, however, there was not a soul around and he knew that he would feel the approach of a person as soon as someone entered his Hypersense radius.

The problem in creating such clones was that Chi was different from Chakra. Michael didn't go into the theory of exactly how the two spiritual forces worked, so the difference between them for him was like the difference between AK-47 and AKM.

The water froze in the shape of a man and Michael frowned. 'No, it's wrong. The AK-47 was worse than the AKM, although this is debatable. If we take modern models - no, not now. And what are the modern models?'

Defrosting the water, Michael touched the shoulder of his future clone and tried to pour his Chi into the mold, but the water shuddered and fell lifelessly to the icy floor. Tilting his head in confusion, Michael looked at the water for a couple of minutes, not understanding what he had done wrong.

"Playing with forces beyond our understanding, human?" Michael froze, just like water a little earlier. It had been a long time since he had heard the voice of the cursed Spirit that promised to keep an eye on him.

Turning around and simultaneously enhancing Hypersensetivity, Michael froze the water on his fists, creating studded brass knuckles for himself.

But there was no one around, as if the Spirit was speaking directly in his head. 'Telepathy?'

"What do you want?" Michael sneered. Taking every step in the human world, he felt that he was being watched. Sometimes it was just one pair of eyes, and sometimes more. But the feeling that he was being watched never disappeared, along with a feeling of slight anxiety. It's like he's somewhere he should never have been.

It wasn't like the feeling when you walked into your parents' room without permission, nor was it like the feeling that he got in the vaults of various banks that he robbed. It was more like when you enter the holy land, the God of which hates you to the bone.

"Trying to feel us, aren't you? Well, keep trying, human." Michael could have sworn that the Spirit was laughing, but his laughter was mute. "You were… Disappointing in your time spent here. No progress, no significant changes in the timeline… Well, maybe that's what saved you from our Mother's gaze."

Michael winced. He really didn't want to meet strong Spirits who wanted to kill his ass, two times was enough.

"What. Do. You. Want?" He strained through clenched teeth, letting his brass knuckles turn into water and drain to the floor.

"We? We want you to die in the deepest ditch that you can find and stop disturbing the delicate balance of this world." The spirit replied bluntly. "But I want you to suffer. I suffered for the fact that you even dared to set foot on this holy land." The bastard's voice was calm, but filled with barely contained rage and hatred. Michael also didn't miss the changes in the Spirit's speech. He said 'I', not 'we', which confirmed his guesses. Other Spirits are also watching him.

"But I am patient. I'm ready to wait until you come to me yourself. And you will come to me. You won't have any other choice. Even with… her, you won't find another way." The Spirit hissed, as if standing right next to his ear. "How sad that I'm tied to my place like a dog. Otherwise, I would have crushed your pathetic little soul long time ago."

Michael chuckled. "So you can't do anything but talk? Have you come to rub my nerves again?" He was still trying to find the Spirit, but the signals he was getting from his own senses were… Strange. Wrong.

"Oh, no, never. I came to remind you of just one simple thing." Michael felt a chill that penetrated him to the dephts of his soul. "The living do not sleep in the snow."

And just like that, the feeling was gone. The spirit left him and for the first time in a long time Michael felt that no one was watching him… Almost no one.

"... Princess, what are you doing all alone in the dead of night?"

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