Set in the Russian city of Yekat, "Natmin" slips between old blockhouses and runs through empty allotment gardens as it follows a story of a young federal security officer and the boys who chose to be terrorists. Profane and innocent, naive and wise, it speaks in the tongue of Russian youth, it speaks in twisted parables and hangman's jokes.

"Natmin" treats the reader as a fellow insider rather than a remote observer. It lets the reader take a peek into the obscure lives of young people of modern Russia, who often find themselves neglected and overlooked.

Each and every character is repressed by his own thing. One is stranded with money, and the other is squashed by the rules and customs. One says nothing, and the other has no one to hear him say anything. One day is the same as the day before, every day is worse than the day before, and the only ways they find to break out of the circle lead to violence and bring pain.

Everyone handles the emotions in his own way. While one plays tough, the other hides behind the formalities. Some make fun of each other, some crack bitter jokes. But as good as the humor of the novel is, it gives way to sincere talks, intimate revelations, and damning truths.