Autumn day, mid-October. Such weather usually always brings some kind of setbacks, and this day was clearly no exception. A young man learns wonderful news from his parents:he is in a fictitious marriage, forced, from today, without the right to choose, because the contract has already been signed... Damn, great news, which made him want to get drunk. Reksar slammed the door to his room and threw his gloves, stained with blood after another murder, into the bedside table, taking off his baseball cap and running his hands through his black hair. — Long live the "sweet life"... He rolled his eyes, lighting a cigarette