A panel came down from the ceiling, close to the wall.
The music stopped, adding to the anxiety of everyone, forgetting about poker.
The screen flashed and turned on.
The image focused on a middle-aged man wearing glasses, and a wrinkled white shirt under his wool vest. In the background, a scenario filled with computers.
The gentleman on the screen looked striking and unpleasant. He was skinny and his long face clashed with his old-fashioned glasses. His hair was something else_ long and plastered with gel, combed to the right. To Haruki, the man looked like he was out of an anime series from the 80s.
The face on the screen scrutinized each one of them, before starting to speak. So Haruki took the initiative, impatient,
"Yes, we are real and we are stuck! Get us out of here!"
"Oh, it's really true!" the man said, looking over his shoulder at someone out of sight. Looking at the camera again, he greeted them,
