No one knows exactly why we, students of the University of Verona, were nicknamed “The Kings of the Night Verona,” but be that as it may, he was right. For many years now, the most inveterate representatives of the underworld of Verona have been afraid of meeting with us. Of course, who would dare to get involved with the hordes armed with swords, rapiers or long daggers, walking through the streets in the evenings, bawling their inescapable “Kings of the night Verona, no laws are written for us...”? There really weren’t any idiots among our criminals - the poor people don’t survive. Only one boy of about fifteen named Paolo Capri seemed out of place in our merry campaign. Everyone despised him, and some openly hated him, although previously no one could suspect him of partiality towards any of his fellow students. It seemed that I was the only one who had nothing against the unfortunate Paolo and the only one who would not come up with some offensive nickname for him. I was the only friend of Paolo Capri and it was because of him that I got involved in the very case that I want to tell you about. And it all started just when I returned from summer vacation. P.S. The story uses a fragment from the rock opera “Romeo and Juliet” (“Kings of the Night Verona”).