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Summary
The first thing Feofan saw upon opening his eyes was… black roses.
A thick bouquet of them, hovered right in front of his face. He dragged his gaze away from the flowers, upward to meet the red eyes that had been haunting his stay in Sumeru.
“You’ll be scheduled for surgeries in four days. For your extreme case, the success rate is laughably small—small enough that I’d ask The Tsaritsa to write me an eulogy right now if I were you.” Zandik smiled faintly. “Then, after the surgery fails, you will be in a state of coma for a day or two or, if you’re unlucky, three.”
“So, chairman…” The bouquet was gently put on Feofan’s lap, right next to the elixir. “Because I am too poor to book a flight to Snezhnaya and attend your funeral, let me pay my utmost respect to you right here, right now.”
Or—when the sick, joyless, closeted Chairman of the Northland Bank meets a mad scientist short on funding.
Or—them, in another life.Series
- Part 2 of My Dottolone Works