Being exceptionally blind, and able to distinguish only light and shadow, the gray-faced man takes a deep breath of the air next to him, trying to orient himself and distinguish the terrain around him. The ragged smells of either security or police abruptly border on the fresh, completely new scents of another room. There is no smell of medicines here, as in the treatment rooms or from the ivs that are constantly being put on him and have become commonplace for Nyras. There is no smell of sweat or the aromas of food here, which was certainly not a dining room. It smells like something else. The fragrance is persistent, but nevertheless elusive, subtle and completely obscure. A new room? Obviously, yes. The rough smell of steel borders on the smell of rubber and subtle notes of burnt plastic. Electricity that burns plastic somewhere from excessive voltage on the circuit. And then, instead of a light burnt fragrance, the one that makes a man turn his head away rushes into his nose – sickly sweet for him, disgusting and suffocating the nasopharynx.

Overweight men push the brown-haired man into a cage, tightly locking the steel prison with several large locks, leaving the office and making it clear to the girl that in case of anything, she should immediately call for help. Settling down more comfortably on a small, narrow, and low chair for the ogre's bulky size, he folds his arms over his chest in a Protestant gesture. The face shows sincere displeasure, if not contempt for the person sitting opposite, which is clearly understood both by the disrespectfully relaxed posture and by the expression on his face. His eyebrows slanted down to the bridge of his nose, arching over deep eye sockets with hideously black liquid running down his cheeks and trickling down to his chin, roughly resembling fresh tree resin. From time to time, the upper lips rise at the top, and the lower ones are clamped with teeth in an almost animal display of their feelings – the man grins, causing the skin around the nose, eyebrows and forehead to gather, forming facial wrinkles. To tell the truth, even after a couple of months in a psychiatric clinic, the putrid smell coming from Jack did not go away – the man did not know how and did not want to take care of himself. The nurses, and sometimes the nurses, had to wash him by force several times in order to somehow get rid of the smell of Jack's body, which smelled of an exceptional smell of garbage and rot. Although this amber has become less noticeable, nevertheless, it has not completely disappeared.