Alexey Kovtunov

What could be simpler? On my very first day in this world, I was given the title of a count along with all the trimmings: a castle, name, lands and power.

Gangsters, aristocrats, offworlders . . . What difference does it make? To Mikhail Bulatov, none whatsoever. Any of them could be friend or foe, and he could care less what world they're from or what their place is in the social order.

This world never fails to surprise me! I take care of one problem only to be confronted by yet another—my unceasing enemies want what is mine. Is it that hard for them to comprehend that I, the Archmagister of Healing, can't be had so easily?

I was the most powerful healer in my world—the best, having devoted my entire life to mastering the art of healing. And yet, for whatever reason, my brother feared that I sought to claim his throne, and he marshaled his forces against me....

Der Weltuntergang ist der absolute Albtraum. Aber nicht für alle. Denn wer sich das System zunutze macht, hat die Chance, nicht als Zombie-Snack zu enden. Und manche Menschen sind bereit, bis zum bitteren Ende für diese Chance zu kämpfen.

A good Healer, they say, must use his Gift professionally. Really? No one in my past world would spout such nonsense! Everyone there knew full well what a Healer from the Order was capable of . . . And they also know that a Healer doesn't have to kowtow to anybody.

Die Bedrohungen, denen ich in dieser Welt ausgesetzt bin … Nun, es kommt mir vor, als würde ich „Hau-den-Maulwurf“ spielen. Die örtlichen Aristokraten haben sich weiterhin dazu verschworen, der Familie Bulatow, deren Macht konstant zunimmt, Straßensperren in den Weg zu legen.

Mikhail's adventures continue. He's finding out ever more about this world, and the Empire in which he lives. But he's in for some surprises, still. They've tasked him with training the most hopeless students from the Department of Healing Arts.

The threats I've been facing in this world, well, it's like playing whack-a-mole. The local aristocrats are still conspiring to put roadblocks in the path of the ever more powerful Bulatov Family. And then I have the offworlders from another world—they haven't gone anywhere, either.

To anyone looking on, it would appear that a certain very young count is beset by too many enemies, especially considering that his Gift has nothing to do with combat. It’s as if the northern region that houses his county is a magnet for offworld invaders.

Mikhail isn't greedy, no! He's simply thrifty, practical. And he cannot fathom how anyone can leave trophies behind on the battlefield. No way does that mean he's stealing them! And of course Mikhail isn't a slave master!

Das System ist da! Ein Großteil der Bevölkerung des Planeten wurde plötzlich in Zombies verwandelt. Alle anderen erhielten neue Fähigkeiten. Fähigkeiten, ...

Evidently, for whatever reason, there were still many who fail to comprehend who Mikhail Bulatov really is. These are the ones who see him as just a Healer. Their attempts to kill him in a duel, or to simply poison him only amuse him.

The world could not escape this misfortune that came out of the blue, so the System is still providing its inhabitants with entertainment. In addition to developing and constantly introducing new possibilities for the inhabitants of the planet, the System is also trying to complicate their lives.

People awake in a strange place with no idea of who or where they are. There is only a bizarre message carved into a metal obelisk and the growing awareness that every single living creature in this new world is a deadly threat.

The end of the world is always a nightmare. But when it comes with the System, then it's not a nightmare for everyone. Not everybody is ready to fall into despair and come to terms with their fate as zombie food. Some people are ready to keep fighting however they can.

It once seemed like the world had been shaken by the coming of the System, leaving no chance for humanity to survive.

Michails Abenteuer nehmen ihren Fortgang. Er findet immer mehr über diese Welt und das Imperium heraus, in dem er jetzt lebt. Allerdings stehen ihm auch ein paar Überraschungen bevor.

I could have been anything I wanted: a chef, a chauffeur, a pianist, an artist, an aristocrat . . . but where would the fun be in that? In my past life, I'd been one of the world's greatest demonologists, and horned lords and masters of the inferno had cringed and trembled with terror at my name.

They were just a bunch of ordinary demonologists trying to summon an ordinary demon...but at the moment of summoning, something went wrong. Still, demon or demonologist—what was the difference to them, anyway? Either way, they were going to have fun.