On the top floor of the Remot's Trade Union Hall, Theon was standing in Old Blues' office. Old Bruges' pre-office was full of the bourgeoisie of the old era, and the old black tape phonograph, the black tape discs from who knows where, the eighty-two wines, and even a yellowing poster of Mary Lemonade made up the early twentieth century.

However, this office had already been requisitioned by Theon, the new chairman had a new style, thus all traces of Blues disappeared. The new ...