Freedom burned in his eyes with scarlet tongues of flame, and the spirit of rebellion escaped from his consciousness like a hungry beast, as soon as the night veil covered the metropolis, which never slowed down its frantic pace, even in the most sacred time. He loved the night and the freedom it bestowed on his mysterious "I", getting out of a dozen familiar frameworks of pseudo-social laws of morality - with shackles fettering his hands in the daytime.

Night, giving colors of euphoria to the universe; Lights of lanterns illuminating metropolis routes; The roar of the engine, piercing capital chatter; A cool wind that kindles the flames of the demonic spirit in the chest; The faint taste of jack daniels on the tongue, drunk in the darkness of a boxing club after a busy race - that was what filled his nature with a thirst for the joy of earthly existence, which he felt only from dusk to dawn.