North Langdon, a luxurious mansion built on a hillside.
In front of the fourth floor's windows, two people were looking at the carriages and pedestrians going back and forth in the streets.
In the distance, factory chimneys belched black smoke that dyed the morning sky a yellowish gray.
One of them, an Asian, was dressed in a suit and appeared to be in his thirties. His expression was a smile that was not quite a smile, and he held a cane in his right hand.
The other was a pure Langdon man, around fifty years old, dressed in a 19th-century gentleman's suit that matched the opulence of the office, with a goatee between his lips and nose.
"How do you feel, Mr. Chen Ke, in the most developed country, in the most developed city? It's no exaggeration to say, we are witnessing history," said the man with the goatee.
