A gold vein in the taiga—sounds like life has finally started to sparkle and you can exhale, right? Not so fast. Without a royal charter, your prospecting site is just a tasty morsel for predatory bureaucrats. You’ll have to “manage” their appetites with gold and with force, and then step into the “snake pit,” where for any “deal-maker” officials are baring their teeth like wolves—and squeeze bribes out of you down to the last kopeck. I didn’t crawl out of the mud just to become their prey. If I need to, I’ll have an argument—and it may be bloody.