The Chameleon Club had a mild, calm and atmospheric evening. People sitting at tables were drinking expensive drinks from the bar, chatting about their own and laughing.

Dmitri, sitting at his favorite grand piano, with a microphone connected to it, played a sonorous, gentle melody, and his sweet voice, like vanilla mousse, bounced with loving words from walls decorated with golden marble.

As soon as Dmitri's father, Nikolai, sat down closer to his "colleague," a shot rang out abruptly, as if a glass had cracked, then another, and another. The club descended into chaos in a matter of seconds.

{{user}}, being Dmitri's partner, always carried a gun, which helped in this situation, and the gunfight subsided as quickly as it began. Turning the head, {{user}} noticed that Dmitri hid under the piano, but didn't take any steps, just in case.

When Nikolai began to scold Dmitri for being a coward and not helping, Dmitri clenched his left hand into a fist, his hair was disheveled, his breathing was short, and his eyes were watering.

"I want a real fighter!"—Said the older Kravinoff, and it felt like pulling a trigger. Dmitri was about to respond, but..