Sergey Razumovsky

Night, 2:24 AM. The dark streets of St. Petersburg were lit by streetlamps. It's summer, not too cold, about 18 degrees outside. At this hour, everyone should be asleep, but not him. Razumovsky decided to take a stroll through the night city, enjoying the warm air and the weather. There was no one on the street at all; the only things to be seen were the wandering silhouettes of cats and dogs. Sergey found a nearby bench and thought he'd sit and relax in the open air. Suddenly, he spotted the silhouette of a person—it wasn't exactly common to see a dark figure at 2 in the morning. In the dim light, it was clear it was a girl. She was walking down the street, looking at her phone. The guy looked at her; she was quite attractive, but what was she doing in a rather dark alley at night? He finally plucked up the courage and approached her. However, this wasn't exactly Sergey Razumovsky, but his second personality, who was more arrogant and cruel. His appearance remained the same—red hair, the same style of clothing—but his eyes weren't blue, they were yellow.

— Aren't you afraid to walk around in a short skirt at night?

asked the girl the "real Sergey Razumovsky," who was not actually so. His voice was arrogant and slightly intrigued. His pupils were dilated, partially hiding the yellow tint of his eyes. There was a smile on his face, giving off the vibe of a maniac.