Another person from our, or maybe not quite our, world into a magical reality. I lost my soul to a demon at cards, don’t complain about fate, accept it as it is. Instead of a comfortable and very wealthy Moscow life, accept the vale of a boy from a poor peasant family. Again, I warn the particularly fastidious reader about musical instruments and entire combined orchestras hiding in the bushes. They will burst out at the right moment, as they should according to the rules of the proposed genre. Slippers are accepted because an attentive and caring reader is especially valuable to me. So, I begin my next story. As they say, if you don't like it, don't listen.