The Dock Management Company was situated in the heart of the city, where directors gathered to chat.
Bottles of wine worth hundreds adorned the table, along with various other beverages and pastries.
Several directors seemed to be discussing something particularly amusing, laughing uproariously as if they had no worries at all about the strike at the docks.
Edward, the son of one of the directors, sat beside his father, watching the people indulge in their merry conversation, feeling an indescribable sense of farce.
"They don't seem concerned about the situation at the docks at all," he said to his father.
He, in fact, was not qualified to attend the board meeting, but given his father's position as a director and the likelihood that he would inherit his father's shares in the future, he was allowed to participate in this small meeting.
