In a past life, I was Vaim, the lord of spirits. Strength, power, universal respect. Even kings considered it an honor to shake my hand. How could it be otherwise? The Vimes were the only ones who stood in the way of the creatures bursting out of the dungeons. They and their spirits. I died protecting humanity. And he got the opportunity to start over from scratch in another world. But Vaim always remains Vaim. Where's my perfume? And why the hell am I not in the dungeon yet? From the author: ☑️ The hero knows what he wants and goes towards his goal, without being distracted by reflection, companionship and social networks. ☑️ If something is not clear at first, that’s how it’s intended. Answers will be given in doses throughout the book.☑️ Do you have any questions about the world order? Try looking at the Glossary. Over time, new terms will be added there.☑️ Just don’t like, otherwise I’ll have to forget about sleep and write even faster.☑️ Don’t even think about sending typos, blunders, lame logic, etc. to the author in a personal message. Everyone should see this!☑️ If the author has not responded to the comment, be sure to write again and again. Do this until he stops doing all this nonsense and answers you.☑️ Did you like the book? Support the author, share the link to the book with your friends, colleagues, neighbors and telephone scammers.☑️ Inadequate people, riveters and trolls pass by. You are not welcome here. Scribble your emergency concerns elsewhere. Respect the author and other readers.