Page 547
Posted: Wed Feb 11, 2026 2:55 pm
Chapter 31. The Beast Writes
What else is interesting? The other day, an employee I mentioned earlier in
this volume — the one I had a battle with, as if fighting a beast in the flesh —
writes to me. He asks a question that is just… well, I always notice this: when
everything is fine, a person just asks one question, then a second, then a
third. But when a person writes, “Alexandr, may I ask a question?”, then it’s
definitely some nonsense. It means it’s a strange question, and something is
going on again. I think to myself, “Here we go again,” but I tell the employee,
“Yes, fine, ask your question.” This is the employee who was recently
possessed by a demon, whom I wanted to fire and gave a thousand chances to;
he is still working, everything is fine, and he writes to me:
— Can all people, or only the most magical ones, look at me without knowing
me and know everything about me? Can they tell who I am, what I am, what is
in my soul, and what kind of personality I have?
— Well, generally, everyone who is above your world and not in your world
can certainly see who you are and which layer of society you belong to.
It’s immediately obvious whether you are narcissistic or, on the contrary,
very humble, or perhaps arrogant, or sensitive, or something else.
— Ah, I see.
— So, what happened?
— Listen, Alexandr, when we happen to meet, if it’s sometime soon, I would
rather tell you about it in person next time.
— Well, alright. Okay,” I say, because I shouldn’t be an interrogator; that
also provokes and offends people, so I decided not to pry or interrogate.
Why would I need that? “Fine, if that’s more comfortable for you, please.
I understand that he’s caught up in some illusions, that something is happening
with him, but I don’t dig into it or show interest. Then he says to me:
— Is it even worth believing in all sorts of psychics or magical people?
I once again act like I don’t understand the question and say to him:
What else is interesting? The other day, an employee I mentioned earlier in
this volume — the one I had a battle with, as if fighting a beast in the flesh —
writes to me. He asks a question that is just… well, I always notice this: when
everything is fine, a person just asks one question, then a second, then a
third. But when a person writes, “Alexandr, may I ask a question?”, then it’s
definitely some nonsense. It means it’s a strange question, and something is
going on again. I think to myself, “Here we go again,” but I tell the employee,
“Yes, fine, ask your question.” This is the employee who was recently
possessed by a demon, whom I wanted to fire and gave a thousand chances to;
he is still working, everything is fine, and he writes to me:
— Can all people, or only the most magical ones, look at me without knowing
me and know everything about me? Can they tell who I am, what I am, what is
in my soul, and what kind of personality I have?
— Well, generally, everyone who is above your world and not in your world
can certainly see who you are and which layer of society you belong to.
It’s immediately obvious whether you are narcissistic or, on the contrary,
very humble, or perhaps arrogant, or sensitive, or something else.
— Ah, I see.
— So, what happened?
— Listen, Alexandr, when we happen to meet, if it’s sometime soon, I would
rather tell you about it in person next time.
— Well, alright. Okay,” I say, because I shouldn’t be an interrogator; that
also provokes and offends people, so I decided not to pry or interrogate.
Why would I need that? “Fine, if that’s more comfortable for you, please.
I understand that he’s caught up in some illusions, that something is happening
with him, but I don’t dig into it or show interest. Then he says to me:
— Is it even worth believing in all sorts of psychics or magical people?
I once again act like I don’t understand the question and say to him: