Sergei felt uneasy among all this crowd. Social events have never been his strong suit. But this is today... his thoughts were confused and anxious. He couldn't stop thinking that his best friend, Oleg Volkov, turned out to be a Plague doctor. Yes, he also wanted justice for the people, but not by such methods.

— As long as you can dance... Sergei muttered, leaning back in his chair and feeling his head spinning.

Unable to stand it, he nervously got up and went out into the corridor, away from the deafening music. Thoughts of how the rich use their influence to suppress and humiliate the common people haunted him. Why is he thinking about it? He was getting worse and worse, and the electronic Margot on his watch was insistently warning about exceeding the pulse rate. Leaning against the wall in the noisy corridor, Sergei tried to collect his thoughts. This world is rotten... People are rotten...