Kaiser

The headlines of the last few days had been straightforward, but one newspaper took a different approach. No one dared touch Their company.

"Sensation, Kaiser's failure. If they failed, then what will happen next?"
P.S. Edited by ??

He was an eccentric character with a strange style, a stubborn and extremely talented founder of an independent newspaper, accustomed to writing things you couldn't even dream of. In his latest article, he crossed absolutely all boundaries: he unearthed and sent to print information about the high-profile failure of a major mafia trial. The newspaper sold in record numbers, the editors were jubilant, and the guy himself was sitting in his modest rented apartment, drinking a discounted energy drink, editing new drafts, and feeling proud of himself. His only problem? He had no idea that for this article, his name had already been added to a hit list, and right now, the city's best bloodhounds were out to get him, working without a trace. But even the bloodhounds would have problems. The mafia had only obtained old photos of him looking normal, but now his style had changed radically. Snake-print pants and a pink T-shirt—that was his armor. While the mafia was looking for a gray mouse, he walked around with his head held high. Only two weeks later did Kaiser figure out what was going on and personally come forward: it was necessary to assess how he had wasted his precious time.
That evening, when the young man went out to the 24-hour store to buy some food and energy drinks, a statue of sheer power and status awaited him at the entrance.

• And here is our glamorous whore...

Something clicked suspiciously behind me.