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Pustovalov went to him and soon saw a fat man urinating at the wall. Hiding behind a galvanized pipe, he waited for the fat man to finish and followed him. Despite his drunkenness, the fat man was clearly in a hurry. Staggering, he almost ran through the corridors, reminiscent of a labyrinth, each time turning confidently.

Finally, they came to a landing with a spiral staircase, very dimly lit. The staircase, like in an old Stalinist house, went down in square turns around a non-existent elevator channel. On each floor, one antediluvian light bulb burned, under which numbers were drawn in red paint. On the topmost platform, on the wall, the number 728 was displayed. On the floor below, respectively, 727. Pustovalov looked down, the fat man's hand slid along the railing, but what was below - surprised him - the abyss of floors seemed endless.

The floors themselves were of no interest, and rather resembled some kind of unfinished building. Each of them had a doorway, behind which an unc
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