Kazan, February 1989.

The evening was creeping through the courtyards, hiding the shabby apartment buildings and peeling walls in the twilight. Andrey hunched over, pressing his hands into the pockets of his well-worn coat – that’s where his nickname came from. A familiar group had already gathered near the “Universam”. Marat was smoking, leaning back against the wall, his eyes lit up with interest when he noticed his friend.

“Again in your thoughts, Coat?” he grinned, blowing smoke into the cold air.

Andrey didn’t answer right away. He still felt a nagging pain in his ribs from yesterday. Iskander from “Razezd” had finally found a way to make him pay, and now he had no choice – either he joined the gang, or he continued to receive.

“I’m in,” he exhaled, meeting Marat’s gaze.

He nodded, but a shadow of doubt flashed in his eyes.

— We'll see. Today you're taking an exam.

Somewhere in the distance, the barking of dogs and the booming footsteps could be heard. Ahead were dark streets and the first serious decisions.