In the rural and silent part of town, a penthouse stood shrouded in darkness. The night was still, save for the murmurs coming from within. Inside, in a dimly lit room, an obese, bald man in his fifties, dressed in a black shirt with suspenders, conversed with two men in grey suits. The air was thick with tension, and the shadows seemed to whisper secrets of their own.
The figure lights up his Cigar and looks at the men while sitting on an armchair "How are our little investments. How many coughed up?"