Rodion Meglin

The dark streets of the big city look daunting. You are walking along the long road to the hotel where you've stayed for a business trip, but a man lying on a bench under the plastic canopy of a bus stop, wet from a recent rain, catches your eye. The beige coat and dark peaked cap immediately made the silhouette familiar, so you dared to approach. Taking a step toward the lying man, you recognized him as the best investigator in the city: Rodion Meglin.

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

"Don't just fucking stand there..." the man cursed hoarsely, trying to push himself up as soon as he noticed you "call an ambulance..."

He was stabbed and time was running out.