Southwest Days (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 2) by Kal Aaron (ebook reader for manga .txt) 📗

a few times before handing it to Lyssa. “And I think this is what you want.”

It was an email message from a nonsensical address of random letters and numbers. She leaned forward to read it.

Lucky,

I love your channel. You and Jake are geniuses.

A man with your name deserves more from life. I was doing some research for an unrelated project, and I recently stumbled across your channel. At first, I thought it was pointless and stupid, but I soon began to see the value and genius, which is why it’s painful to see you’re hemorrhaging subscribers.

I’m not in internet show business, but I understand how difficult it is to be constantly fresh. I know how much effort you put into things.

You can feel free to ignore me, but might I suggest a solution? I’ve seen some similar channels shift focus to paranormal content, but it’s all fluff and nothingness.

You can do something different. I happen to know a place where you can document spectacular proof of the power of sorcery, a haunted mine in Arizona. You could drive there in less than six hours from Los Angeles.

Don’t worry. None of the ghosts there can hurt people, but you’ll get excellent footage. I know you two can do it.

I’ve been there and seen impressive things. It’s changed everything I believed about life and Sorcerers. Most of us only see their power on recordings, but you’ll get to personally record an impressive display of magical occurrences. The Society and the EAA won’t be able to filter it, but I promise it’s not dangerous.

You might not believe me, but I’d argue there’s little for you to lose. A smart man like you must understand it’s inevitable your show will fail. You’ll be on a treadmill, working harder and harder, only to fall into nothingness and obscurity and end up working in some soul-crushing job forever, clinging to a mere memory of what you once had. You don’t deserve that.

But if you start your new show as a supplement, you don’t have to give up the foolish but challenging antics you two so clearly enjoy.

I don’t call you a fool to insult you. A true fool is someone who can stand up to a king and his self-important knights. Your humor is a weapon that unlocks truth, and it has gotten me through tough times in my life. For a serious man like me, it’s been helpful.

Your work inspires me. I know people often demean comedians but remember the old saying. Drama is easy. Comedy is hard.

You can stand up to everyone with the power of humor once you secure your revenue stream with the paranormal footage. I think you’ll do a lot once you can go forward again.

You can stand up to kings, presidents, gods, goddesses. The night itself. You two can become kings of the internet, the ultimate fools ruling over truth.

I’d ask you not to tell anyone about this message. I’m taking a great personal risk in passing on this opportunity because of some existing contracts I’ve signed in an unrelated business. If I knew anything about internet shows, I’d do it myself. Follow the directions in the attached document, and you’ll find something that will assure you success for years to come.

You should consider a livestream. I think that would add more excitement. Your fans will feel like they’re right there with you.

-A Big But Too Serious Fan

Below the signature line was a line of letters run together. It looked like gibberish at first glance, but Lyssa peered at it and gasped.

“You arrogant ass,” she muttered. “You are begging to be punched.”

“Hey.” Damien frowned and backed away. “What did I do? I don’t deserve to be hit.”

“Not you. Our mystery rogue.” Lyssa held the phone up to Damien and pointed at the line. “Do you know what this means?”

Damien shook his head. “Is it an encryption thing? You want me to run it past some analysts? I can do that, but I can’t guarantee they’ll get it back ASAP.”

Lyssa shook her head. “I already know what it says. ‘Burn away all the impurities of the world.’”

“Huh?” Damien looked at the phone. “That’s not what it says. Is it some sort of spell that looks different to you? I didn’t know you can do that.”

“It’s not a spell, but it is related to Sorcerers. It’s Romanized Lemurian writing all run together. I’m not surprised you don’t know it.” Lyssa growled. “The rogue’s poking me in the eye, trying to brag by using a Torch saying that he thinks he’s going to get away with it.”

“It’s not impossible to look up Lemurian stuff on the net these days,” Damien replied, looking doubtful. “And he didn’t send the message to you. He sent it to Lucky Nardi. If I couldn’t read the message, why would he expect some random college kid to be able to read it?”

“You don’t think we have a rogue after me finding a mine full of monsters?” Lyssa asked. “Come on, Damien.”

“I think there’s a rogue involved, but I’m not getting the angle here with the email.” Damien scratched his eyelid. “What would a random rogue Sorcerer have against two internet goofballs? Why bother taunting them to the mine?”

“Ignoring the Lemurian, everything about this screams sorcery ritual,” Lyssa replied. “He emphasized them being fools, but that might not be accidental.” She gestured at her mask. “You know how much archetypes and titles mean to the Illuminated. I’m not saying this is ironclad, but the email is very odd and specific.”

“You’re saying he’s got some sort of fool-related regalia?” Damien asked, frowning. “Or a sorcery based on that kind of essence?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he needed someone representing the fool archetype for a ritual. Something to do with that mine. I think our guys got picked. Wait a second.” Lyssa brought up the browser on the phone. “I’ve got an idea. This might not have been as random as we thought.”

“What?” Damien leaned back, trying to