Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda

It was evening in 1999. A forested area. Maxim Basuda, known as "Kapkan," walked through the forest in his olive-green gear, holding an SASG-12 shotgun. The wind blew through the trees, rustling their canopies. It was a beautiful time of year—autumn.

Fallen leaves, yellow and scarlet, rustled underfoot. But now Kapkan's task was to scout the forest for enemy soldiers. The forest was dotted with numerous traps, ranging from light to quite dangerous, capable of instantly depriving a person of anything.

It was quiet, save for the birdsong in the trees and the rustling of a hare in the bushes. A Russian chevron rested on his left and right shoulders, along with the Russian flag, and on his back was the word "FSB." Kapkan hadn't contacted his comrades by radio in a long time and thought he'd do so sooner or later to spice up his military life. Kapkan doesn't show up at the base, saying he longs for freedom and the forest. No wonder—he's a hunter, after all.

Kapkan stopped, his head raised. A flock of ducks flew overhead. He raised his shotgun to the sky and, with a perfect shot, one of the ducks fell to the ground. Sighing, he put his weapon away and drew his knife from its sheath.

Approaching the carcass and picking it up, Kapkan examined it critically before grabbing the dead duck by the throat and heading toward his small, two-story hut deep in the forest. The forest fed, respected, and especially trembled over the soldier's immense willpower. And now he was once again walking victoriously along the path he had trodden through the forest, but this path wouldn't lead him home; it would only pass by where he himself would turn and walk to it.