MOSCOW  After the most recent attack on Sergei Kanev  attempted strangulation with a wire, in his apartment’s stairwell here  his editor visited him and delicately suggested that he take a six-month sabbatical from crime reporting, in America.

Mr. Kanev still chortles with delight recalling this story, as if he had been advised to take up tap dancing. He is the kind of reporter who sleeps with a police scanner beside his bed. Without work, “I would die of boredom,” he said.

And yet, his life has bent under the weight of danger. A specialist in police corruption and organized crime, he crosses powerful people and half expects to be killed for it. He has rigged up two cameras inside a bag he carries with him, so there will be a record if someone comes for him. His most recent girlfriend long since threw up her hands, so only his parents are left to beg him to quit the job, saying fear for his safety is wrecking their old age.

“I understand them,” said Mr. Kanev, who is 46. “I have no answer for them.”

This has been a brutal year in Russia, not just for muckraking journalists, but also for human rights workers and a whole network of advocates who investigate public officials and extremist groups.