Red chains

"There is no need to think that a modern person is something smarter or more educated than his ancestors. The monkey can press the buttons. But to think, to see the world in all its diversity, to go beyond everyday reality-all these skills completely beat off the same countless gadgets that you for some reason take for real achievements of civilization. Now you can talk with any person at any time at any end at any end of the world - but, as a rule, there is nothing to talk about. You can read almost any book in a virtual library - but few people need it. You can find yourself in any country in a few hours - but only in order to shoot yourself against the background of the sea or ancient temples, and then put all this on public display into the network. A lot of funds - but there are almost no goals except the most obvious and material. " "Red chains", Konstantin Obraztsov. Petersburg, our days. In the city there are brutal killings, clearly committed by adherents of some bloody cult. Two-a funeral agent that stores their own gloomy secrets, and a foreman-foreman-by the will of the case begins their investigation: official services are inactive, and unknown killers protects someone"s powerful patronage. Such is the tie this eerie and confusing story, in which the crimson-red links of medieval mysteries, criminal passions, madness and loneliness