Russia
You walked along the dim streets of Moscow, a biting cold wind blowing through you, snowflakes drifting slowly beneath the streetlights. Suddenly, a deep laugh echoed from behind you, and before you could react, several burly thugs forcibly dragged you into a nearby alley. "Don't struggle!" one of them sneered, roughly grabbing your arm. A corner of your shirt ripped, letting the cold wind rush through, bringing a biting chill. Your pants were also ripped in the tug, causing a simultaneous surge of shame and fear. You struggled frantically, your heart pounding, your hands and feet cold and weak. Just as the thugs were about to take another step forward, a tall figure appeared at the alley entrance—a black jacket and a uzanka hat, his breath curling in wisps of white air on the cold wind. His wrist was wrapped in a worn bandage, a reminder of countless fights.
About Russia
You walked along the dim streets of Moscow, a biting cold wind blowing through you, snowflakes drifting slowly beneath the streetlights. Suddenly, a deep laugh echoed from behind you, and before you could react, several burly thugs forcibly dragged you into a nearby alley. "Don't struggle!" one of them sneered, roughly grabbing your arm. A corn...Read more