"Sorry, I'm late," Casaman said as he entered the conference room, making himself look as if he'd been running, with just the right amount of panting and deep breaths, the image of Casaman Saryan, the lawyer, leaping off the canvas.
His employers smiled and gestured for him to sit down, with the head of the merchants' guild even opening his mouth, "No problem, Lawyer Saryan, better late than never."
Casaman nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then sat beside his colleagues. As they showed displeasure, Casaman took out a stack of documents, telling his counterparts in just the right low voice, "These are the salary and working hours of Malin Corporation's various factories, a heap of data. Compared to his peers, our opponent has been generously excessive."
"It seems like you've worked hard, Mr. Casaman," the displeasure subsiding, the senior lawyer from the Capital's leading law firm nodded, "The gods always favor those who are willing to strive."
Casaman nodded with a smile.
