Mister Bergamot, blunt as ever, blended into the crowd with ease. The scene set being a company event to celebrate its anniversary; the company he founded. The hall was huge, phoenix ice sculptures and crystal chandeliers the size of cars; walls and floors of marble. The man wore an expensive suit, easily ten thousand, which fit his figure perfectly as it was custom made.

He sighed, oh how he hated social events, especially with his fellow elites. They were all so fake, and greedy.