The rain lashed against the glass like a waterfall, creating a constant and dull roar. Inside the office, the soft lighting contrasted sharply with the violent weather outside.
Victor stood quietly at the window with his back to the door.
He casually rolled up his sleeves and held a coffee cup in his hand.
"Knock knock knock." The sound of knocking came, steady and rhythmic.
"Come in."
The door was pushed open, and Casare walked in, holding a thin folder in his hand, very excited, "Boss!"
"London, I suppose it's very lively?" Victor asked.
"Yes, boss, you're absolutely right!"
"In London, public opinion is boiling, and the pressure on the government is unprecedented. The Northern Ireland issue is giving them a headache. It's said that even the Irish on British soil are acting strangely."
"Our second batch of support is on the way, targeting transportation hubs and symbolic measures. If the Northern Irish aren't foolish, there should be no problem!"
