The car stopped, scratching the asphalt heated by the sun. The black lacquered door opened and a stately man stretched out to his full height. Demyan was in a snow-white shirt, black trousers and shoes, his eyes were hidden under dark glasses. With a sweeping, sweeping gesture, he slammed the door shut with a briefcase in his hand. Demyan climbed the steps of an inconspicuous building, not turning around and not paying attention to anything. The man was extremely thoughtful, and all because the events of his life began to get out of control. Demyan got out of the habit of constant tension and it almost cost him too much....