“—Henri, what are you doing? - asked Roitman. - Admiring the sunset, Evgeniy Lvovich. - Where? - On the hills. - I told you to go home. Four hours ago, by the way.—I didn’t think you’d arrive so quickly, Evgeniy Lvovich, sorry. I’m on my way now. — Do you know what’s going on in the village? — No. Is something going on? — Wrong word! Some girl has gone missing. They are going to search with the whole world. They blame you. — Evgeniy Lvovich, I don’t eat girls. I didn’t eat them even eleven years ago.—I have no doubt. Only the local population is not aware of your culinary preferences. For some reason, they believe that the one who bit Kratos’ army and devoured the passenger ship can also bite the girl. “They’re wrong,” I noted. “So, Henri.” There may be lynching. So I called the police. And it’s much more profitable for you to get caught by the police than for the local residents...”