Post by Tokoz on Apr 13, 2022 16:47:10 GMT -5
The Sambon Shipping Conglomerate was a multi-island corporation with outlets in ports all over Paradise, and even in the South and West Blue. The company moved product between the various islands of Paradise, and even took upon itself the tricky task of getting things back out of the Grand Line.
Such a well-off company was naturally going to have a branch in the carnival town of San Faldo, enabling the shipping of the resources needed for the many parties that were ongoing all the time. The shining halls and hardwood accents showed just how well-off those who owned it were, and helped add a sense of elitism to those who worked there.
Down the hall of one the building's floors strolled a suited figure like almost every other in the building. Carrying a clipboard and with a pencil tucked behind it's ear, the slightly huddled shape of Lassa Iskario was muttering over a small stack of paperwork.
The Sambon Shipping Conglomerate, or SSC was suspected of moving goods for the Revolutionary Army, and possibly the underworld as well. Having such a vital component of the economy be potentially influenced by the World Government's enemies was a problem. However, openly accusing them of this would also be a problem. If the information was wrong, then there would be trouble for nothing. If it was right, it would likely just drive the radical elements elsewhere.
Therefor, this brought Lassa to his current location. Slipping into a file closet, having snuck into the building and begun impersonating an employee, the Cipher Pol agent began flicking through the file drawers quickly. Nobody was supposed to be in here, given it was lunch time, so he should have a few minutes to try and find some clues before he had to move on.
Ideally, nobody else would duck in here. After all, who else in this company would be in a file room during the lunch break?
(Burgundy)
Such a well-off company was naturally going to have a branch in the carnival town of San Faldo, enabling the shipping of the resources needed for the many parties that were ongoing all the time. The shining halls and hardwood accents showed just how well-off those who owned it were, and helped add a sense of elitism to those who worked there.
Down the hall of one the building's floors strolled a suited figure like almost every other in the building. Carrying a clipboard and with a pencil tucked behind it's ear, the slightly huddled shape of Lassa Iskario was muttering over a small stack of paperwork.
The Sambon Shipping Conglomerate, or SSC was suspected of moving goods for the Revolutionary Army, and possibly the underworld as well. Having such a vital component of the economy be potentially influenced by the World Government's enemies was a problem. However, openly accusing them of this would also be a problem. If the information was wrong, then there would be trouble for nothing. If it was right, it would likely just drive the radical elements elsewhere.
Therefor, this brought Lassa to his current location. Slipping into a file closet, having snuck into the building and begun impersonating an employee, the Cipher Pol agent began flicking through the file drawers quickly. Nobody was supposed to be in here, given it was lunch time, so he should have a few minutes to try and find some clues before he had to move on.
Ideally, nobody else would duck in here. After all, who else in this company would be in a file room during the lunch break?
(Burgundy)