To clean or not to clean, is that even a question?
Pavlo was born in a relatively poor family. Yet, thanks to his vivid intelligence and innate energy that always pushed him for the greater heights he became... a mobster. As soon as he came of age, the local organisation took him under his wings, quickly recognising his talents. Before the first digit of his age changed or even came close to turning four, he was already responsible for managing the vast financial empire of his new family!
But everything has its own price. In the organisation like his, superiors always had to feel the breath of their subordinate on their necks. Sadly for Pavlo, what he felt was not the breath, but the cold steel of the autonomous truck that smashed his body into bits.
A pitiful end sprinkled with the salty realisation that said truck was a product developed by the company that Pavlo used to launder the organisation money in the first place!
Just like revolution eats its own children, so did Pavlo's investment claim its creator's life. But how could he see just a set of primitive bars instead of the glorious gate of the heaven... or more precisely, the stinky depths of the hell?
And most importantly, what the hell are those flashing letters that seemed to have some majestic aura to them?
WHAT DOES THE ULTIMATE CLEANING SYSTEM EVEN MEAN?
