On the outskirts of Leimonte City in Mexico, workers at a privately owned timber factory were busily transporting the processed lumber. Inside the factory, the roar of the electric saws was deafening, indicating that the timber business was booming.
The owner, Raymond, a man nearing his fifties with a slight paunch and a bushy beard, with a head of black hair, was enjoying the pleasant weather as he sat under the canopy outside his makeshift office, eating fruit.
"Hurry up, Diego," he called out. "You have to get this batch loaded onto the trucks before sunset today. Damn it, if it doesn't arrive in Tampico in two days, I'm going to pay a huge penalty!"
"Don't worry, boss. I won't delay your delivery," Diego assured him.
Diego, a man in his thirties, stood beside the truck, sweating profusely as he directed the workers, occasionally lending a hand, busy with double duties as a supervisor and a laborer.
