My name is Evgeniy (my name, of course, has been modified). I won’t talk for a long time about myself and my life before “hour X”, because it’s not that interesting. But I’ll still make things clear.
Since childhood, I got along well with the computer, at the age of 14 I made money from illustrations in Paint, at 18 I plunged into carding and began traveling around the world. I was depressed by the fact that I was essentially earning money through banal theft, but I had no moral strength to leave this road and start a white business (and this despite the fact that my income was from 500k, always wooden in the worst months).
At first, no one was interested in me, but after reaching decent volumes, it became clear that I would have to act carefully. I moved to different cities every few weeks, started using fake passports, and encrypted all my work information. But carelessness in the first months ruined me: the trail remained, and the American law enforcement system found it.
I was detained in Paris. I still remember how it happened: a knock on the door from the supposed landlord of the apartment I rented on Airbnb. I opened it, and three big guys from Interpol immediately attacked me. Following them, another 5 investigators and the landlord himself entered, very frightened. After 4 hours I was taken to the USA.
The trial went quickly. I saw no point in denying the charges: all the evidence was in hand. He made a deal with the investigation, received 3 years of general regime and went to serve. It was in California.
The layout of the prison is as follows: there are units, there are three wings, each wing has 16 cells. Camera for two people. In total there are a hundred people in the unit. Every day someone is taken away, someone is brought in, but for the most part the composition changes imperceptibly. The cell is small: a double bunk, a toilet, a sink, a small table and two plastic chairs. At 6:30 the cells open - you can walk around the unit. They close at 9 pm.
I lived with some Mexican - a member of a criminal gang. He was a cool guy. From the age of 9 he took part in street fights, at 16 he joined a gang, and the first easy money came. He killed five, although he received a sentence not even for this, but for drunkenly opening fire in a restaurant where he came with five girls. People live happily, in general.
I remember the American prison as a maximum security resort. They don't ask too much of you and don't give too much. It's like a Soviet sanatorium on minimal wages. You can work and earn small but honest money, and it’s not pennies: a few dollars an hour. You can do nothing, but then it will be hard. The prison also has shops where you can buy various essentials.
We were fed mainly Mexican food: rice, beans, corn. There is not a lot of meat, but on the whole there is more or less enough so that your health does not deteriorate from poor-quality food.
A lot of people are in prison for drugs. And there is a very interesting division: the Mex sit for a large amount, they are all serious bigwigs there, and they also have serious deadlines. And blacks - for just a couple of grams of crack.
Everyone sticks to their own gangs. In an American prison, it doesn’t matter who you are in life. Even if you are a pedophile, but black, and in prison there is enmity between the Nazis and blacks, their people will not touch you. But you cannot enter the territory of another gang without a reason: this is an unwritten law, and if you break it, you can safely count on the loss of several fingers, or even worse.
The main disadvantage of the local zone is some kind of general indifference to everything and everyone. They won’t harshly oppress you or bully you in any way, but they won’t help you either. Neither morally nor physically (if anything happens). You have to be very strong psychologically to live for several years in this mode and remain the same person.
I went into prison in poor physical shape, and when I came out I looked like the jock from those posters of yours. The whole point is that you can swing there as much as you want and in any way you want, but there’s nothing else to do in particular. Except for prison work, TV and socializing. But all this quickly gets boring, and you have to alternate it with something. And the workout helped me out a lot.
After serving my sentence, I returned to Russia. This was my mistake. It turns out that I managed to annoy one well-known carder in local circles, who set the faces themselves against me. In general, we took it right at the airport. You can imagine my mood at this moment: you are driving relaxed, with the desire to start a new life and never deal with black stuff, and then they take you and take you to a pre-trial detention center.
I was kept for days without food or water and almost without a toilet. In our system, everyone has no rights, and nothing can be done about it. They wanted me to confess to all the sins of the world, including the Kennedy assassination. I denied everything, naturally. Still, they did not torture me too much - they beat me with socks and sand. It hurts the kidneys very much, but leaves no traces - ideal for law enforcement agencies.
As a result, they were only able to solder me a couple of episodes, and I sat down for two years. A trivial period, but I was desperate. Everything is new again. And acquaintance with another penitentiary system.
Everything is different in Russia. The bosses are really brutes who skimp on everything. The food is terrible; in comparison, the food in California was really sanatorium-like. The regime is strict; they can put you in a punishment cell simply because they want to. But there are also advantages.
The main advantage is the community of prisoners in the face of the authorities. We were sitting in the thieves' zone, there were almost no activists here, the thieves were in charge of everything. They strictly suppressed cooperation with the administration.
I immediately connected with my fellow inmates and the local community. Few people understood my profession, but they immediately respected me - after all, I’m just like a thief, only I also use modern technology. He spent hours telling the guys how he robbed Americans using seemingly complex but actually elementary systems. Half the prison was going to listen to me.
The administration offered to cooperate. They threatened with physical violence, omission and much more. Refused. In the end, everything worked out in words: after all, I’ve only been in prison for two years, I’m not much use.
In a Russian prison, my health suffered greatly. Poor nutrition, constant stuffiness and lack of fresh air, very strong stress from the guards (even at night it is difficult to relax and fall asleep peacefully).
After leaving prison, I lived for another two weeks as if in some kind of half-asleep, trying to understand when they would “take me away” again. They didn't take it. I was lucky: there was only one cache left with a couple of tens of thousands of American tugriks. I invested in a small business and within half a year reached a certain level of well-being. Now I don’t flash like that, but I have enough money for life and for some not too expensive entertainment.
At the request of my loved ones, I will express a wish to everyone reading: do not go to prison. Never. Many nights I almost cried from hopelessness. Psychologically, I was destroyed, because five years of my life could essentially just be erased. I have seen terrible things that are spoken about in whispers in the wild. I saw how people were bullied simply because of the color of their skin, because of an article, because of the wrong word. It's hard. And you can even get used to this. But I didn't succeed. And deep down I'm glad about it.
(c) https://pikabu.ru/story/o_drugoy_zhizni_10842188
Since childhood, I got along well with the computer, at the age of 14 I made money from illustrations in Paint, at 18 I plunged into carding and began traveling around the world. I was depressed by the fact that I was essentially earning money through banal theft, but I had no moral strength to leave this road and start a white business (and this despite the fact that my income was from 500k, always wooden in the worst months).
At first, no one was interested in me, but after reaching decent volumes, it became clear that I would have to act carefully. I moved to different cities every few weeks, started using fake passports, and encrypted all my work information. But carelessness in the first months ruined me: the trail remained, and the American law enforcement system found it.
I was detained in Paris. I still remember how it happened: a knock on the door from the supposed landlord of the apartment I rented on Airbnb. I opened it, and three big guys from Interpol immediately attacked me. Following them, another 5 investigators and the landlord himself entered, very frightened. After 4 hours I was taken to the USA.
The trial went quickly. I saw no point in denying the charges: all the evidence was in hand. He made a deal with the investigation, received 3 years of general regime and went to serve. It was in California.
The layout of the prison is as follows: there are units, there are three wings, each wing has 16 cells. Camera for two people. In total there are a hundred people in the unit. Every day someone is taken away, someone is brought in, but for the most part the composition changes imperceptibly. The cell is small: a double bunk, a toilet, a sink, a small table and two plastic chairs. At 6:30 the cells open - you can walk around the unit. They close at 9 pm.
I lived with some Mexican - a member of a criminal gang. He was a cool guy. From the age of 9 he took part in street fights, at 16 he joined a gang, and the first easy money came. He killed five, although he received a sentence not even for this, but for drunkenly opening fire in a restaurant where he came with five girls. People live happily, in general.
I remember the American prison as a maximum security resort. They don't ask too much of you and don't give too much. It's like a Soviet sanatorium on minimal wages. You can work and earn small but honest money, and it’s not pennies: a few dollars an hour. You can do nothing, but then it will be hard. The prison also has shops where you can buy various essentials.
We were fed mainly Mexican food: rice, beans, corn. There is not a lot of meat, but on the whole there is more or less enough so that your health does not deteriorate from poor-quality food.
A lot of people are in prison for drugs. And there is a very interesting division: the Mex sit for a large amount, they are all serious bigwigs there, and they also have serious deadlines. And blacks - for just a couple of grams of crack.
Everyone sticks to their own gangs. In an American prison, it doesn’t matter who you are in life. Even if you are a pedophile, but black, and in prison there is enmity between the Nazis and blacks, their people will not touch you. But you cannot enter the territory of another gang without a reason: this is an unwritten law, and if you break it, you can safely count on the loss of several fingers, or even worse.
The main disadvantage of the local zone is some kind of general indifference to everything and everyone. They won’t harshly oppress you or bully you in any way, but they won’t help you either. Neither morally nor physically (if anything happens). You have to be very strong psychologically to live for several years in this mode and remain the same person.
I went into prison in poor physical shape, and when I came out I looked like the jock from those posters of yours. The whole point is that you can swing there as much as you want and in any way you want, but there’s nothing else to do in particular. Except for prison work, TV and socializing. But all this quickly gets boring, and you have to alternate it with something. And the workout helped me out a lot.
After serving my sentence, I returned to Russia. This was my mistake. It turns out that I managed to annoy one well-known carder in local circles, who set the faces themselves against me. In general, we took it right at the airport. You can imagine my mood at this moment: you are driving relaxed, with the desire to start a new life and never deal with black stuff, and then they take you and take you to a pre-trial detention center.
I was kept for days without food or water and almost without a toilet. In our system, everyone has no rights, and nothing can be done about it. They wanted me to confess to all the sins of the world, including the Kennedy assassination. I denied everything, naturally. Still, they did not torture me too much - they beat me with socks and sand. It hurts the kidneys very much, but leaves no traces - ideal for law enforcement agencies.
As a result, they were only able to solder me a couple of episodes, and I sat down for two years. A trivial period, but I was desperate. Everything is new again. And acquaintance with another penitentiary system.
Everything is different in Russia. The bosses are really brutes who skimp on everything. The food is terrible; in comparison, the food in California was really sanatorium-like. The regime is strict; they can put you in a punishment cell simply because they want to. But there are also advantages.
The main advantage is the community of prisoners in the face of the authorities. We were sitting in the thieves' zone, there were almost no activists here, the thieves were in charge of everything. They strictly suppressed cooperation with the administration.
I immediately connected with my fellow inmates and the local community. Few people understood my profession, but they immediately respected me - after all, I’m just like a thief, only I also use modern technology. He spent hours telling the guys how he robbed Americans using seemingly complex but actually elementary systems. Half the prison was going to listen to me.
The administration offered to cooperate. They threatened with physical violence, omission and much more. Refused. In the end, everything worked out in words: after all, I’ve only been in prison for two years, I’m not much use.
In a Russian prison, my health suffered greatly. Poor nutrition, constant stuffiness and lack of fresh air, very strong stress from the guards (even at night it is difficult to relax and fall asleep peacefully).
After leaving prison, I lived for another two weeks as if in some kind of half-asleep, trying to understand when they would “take me away” again. They didn't take it. I was lucky: there was only one cache left with a couple of tens of thousands of American tugriks. I invested in a small business and within half a year reached a certain level of well-being. Now I don’t flash like that, but I have enough money for life and for some not too expensive entertainment.
At the request of my loved ones, I will express a wish to everyone reading: do not go to prison. Never. Many nights I almost cried from hopelessness. Psychologically, I was destroyed, because five years of my life could essentially just be erased. I have seen terrible things that are spoken about in whispers in the wild. I saw how people were bullied simply because of the color of their skin, because of an article, because of the wrong word. It's hard. And you can even get used to this. But I didn't succeed. And deep down I'm glad about it.
(c) https://pikabu.ru/story/o_drugoy_zhizni_10842188
