Continuation of the work “This world was not invented by me.” Draft, thanks to Olga Suchilina for her help. Slava is roaming around Styx again, she can’t enjoy a calm and measured life in the stub, Styx throws her strength tests one after another, but the buns are not weak. In which direction will Styx give her a kick this time? He doesn’t know how to do it any other way, like a real Russian man from the proverb - he hits, it means he loves. I wouldn’t love you to death, but that’s where the cards fall.