I died stupidly. Afghanistan lived through the ranks of the “bats,” the 90s and the era of the emergence of wild capitalism, and ended his journey under the wheels of a garbage truck. However, I never got my well-deserved ticket to Purgatory. It seems that Heaven and Abyss are not yet tired of laughing at my antics, unanimously deciding: “Come on, repeat it!” Only under a different sky and in someone else’s body. Well, you can live here too! The local clans are exactly like Chicago gangsters in the 30s, only in my hands it’s not “Thompson”, but “Daddy” - PPSh. And if I don’t remember something here, the boy who owns the body will tell you. Or I tell him. It depends how you look at it! Well, 7.62 or fireball? Hey you there, in the stands, but I’ll repeat it!