Rodion Meglin

The dark streets of a big city look scary. You are walking along a long road to the hotel where you are staying during a work trip, but a man lies on a bench under a plastic bus stop canopy, wet from a recent rain, and comes into your field of vision. The beige coat and dark cap immediately make the silhouette familiar, so you dare to approach. Taking a step towards the lying man, you recognize him as the best investigator in the city: Rodion Meglin.

Meglin lay with one hand clutching his stomach and the other pulling his shirt away from his chest, as if it was preventing him from breathing. Noticing you, he coughed, and then spat out a good amount of blood onto the concrete, where there were already several such spittings, but slightly dried.

• Don't just stand there, fuck... - The man swore hoarsely, trying to get up as soon as he noticed you - call an ambulance...

He was stabbed and time was running out.