During my life they called me the Jeweler. At my funeral, not everyone was sad, some sighed with relief. I flew as a disembodied spirit and peered into their faces, summing up the difficult, rich life... But... - Hey, man! — an old man appeared next to me, as if by magic. - Don't you want to go to the new world? He really is magical... but you can live your life again and do what you love! How could you refuse this? And so, the old man turned out to be some kind of shaman. With kicks, he carefully pushes my little soul into my body... I’m lying on the floor, and around me are Asians who didn’t like the fact that I came to knock out money.