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In what world does a woman wait for her six-foot-five soon-to-be ex-boyfriend—who lied to her about being an entrepreneur and turned out to be some kind of people-slasher—to finish slashing people? The stranger—who is definitely about to die very soon—aims his gun, but mid-run he misses and hits a nearby dumpster instead. Kneel," Slava says, even though there’s no need—they're already down. Ten left, maybe fifteen, and every one of the Bratva men is fighting like a demon.