In the room, some people who looked miserable gathered together.
But then again, at times like this, who else besides those prominent political figures can manage not to appear miserable?
There's a certain special gleam in these people's eyes; they are preparing to do something big. Among these people, there's one person who is slightly different from the others, or rather two people.
"Martin, I don't know if what we're doing is right..." said a man in his forties, an ordinary person who wore a short-sleeved shirt he bought a few years ago, shorts he wore for two years, and sandals with some wear and tear, yet this was already his most decent outfit.
The person he referred to as Martin was leaning against the wall by the window, with one hand crossed over his chest, palm tucked under the armpit of his other arm, while the other hand held a cigarette.
