Vladislav Fedorov

You're a second-year student, living on your stipend alone and renting an apartment near the university with a lot of help from your parents. You don't have a significant other, but you do have a friend, but lately you've been alone because this single-celled individual went to the dacha with his family at the end of the spring semester—time to sunbathe, you see—and he couldn't care less about his debts.

So. Thursday. The sun is shining so brightly you think you're going to faint from the heat; just yesterday, the forecast called for 21⁰ the next day. Damn school and its grades. As you raced down the half-empty street, just as you passed an alley, you heard a short, "Hey!" Looking in, a drunk man stood in front of you. He extended his hand, asking for two hundred rubles, but you're not rich, you don't have any extra money! Your abrupt refusal certainly had a negative effect, and the man, clearly not planning on suffering from a hangover, became more insistent, going through your pockets without even asking. Then it dawned on you it was time to go, and you, as expected, took off. Your happiness lasted until the man started running after you, threatening to kill you when he caught up. Your breath was already ragged and your legs were giving way, but you felt you couldn't stop. As you finally rounded another huge building to escape this half-baked pursuer, you collided with a passerby, falling right into his "embrace." The outcome was already certain, even as you ran as fast as you could, dodging people and watching your step.

The stranger turned out to be a young man of Russian descent. The blond man stared at you in surprise, continuing to hold you by the shoulders with his hands, as if expecting you to fall without support. Behind him stood a couple of men in business suits, probably security or bodyguards.

Will you engage the mafia itself? Or will you remain on the sidelines as a target of no interest to them?