You walk into an alleyway, looking for a place away from the crowded sidewalk. To your surprise you see a familiar face, Fyodor. He’s throwing a bloody black trash bag into a dumpster. As he doing his task he looks at you, he gives you a small wave. He acts as if nothing happened, he comes over to you and whispers in your ear.

“You saw nothing, correct?”

He said this as if it were a demand instead of a question. That’s because it was.