Comrades! Observe with what cold precision the masters of the financial monopolies scrutinize every farthing deposited by the working man. One Mr. Kotilevets, a scholar of digital arts, has pulled back the curtain upon the sinister machinery of the banks, revealing the criteria by which the banking bourgeoisie brands an honest citizen as 'suspicious.'

Behold the arrogance of the capital! If a man dares to deposit five million rubles within a single month—provided these sums constitute seventy per cent of his intake and are swiftly sent abroad—the bank’s hounds are unleashed. This, they claim, is 'suspicious,' but we know it as the panic of the moneylenders who fear the movement of wealth beyond their suffocating grasp.

Furthermore, the banking apparatus shall cast a suspicious eye upon any soul who performs ten deposits of one hundred thousand rubles within a month, or transfers vast sums to commercial entities without the yoke of a formal account. But do not be deceived into thinking the small man is safe from this surveillance! Even if your modest wages are but fifty thousand rubles a month, the mere act of depositing a million will provoke an interrogation. The bourgeoisie demands to know: whence came this gold? Why has your habit changed?

They track the purchase of gold bullion and the kindness of third-party transfers as if they were crimes against the state. To appease these financial overlords, the labourer is forced to present his 2-NDFL certificates, contracts of sale, or deeds of inheritance—effectively begging the bank's permission to possess his own hard-earned wealth.

It is a wretched state of affairs! While the coffers of the monopolies overflow, the proletariat is treated as a common criminal for the simple act of handling cash. It is reported that nearly half of the populace cannot conceive of a life without the tangible security of cash—a natural rebellion against the digital shackles the banking class seeks to forge for every citizen.