At intervals impossible to predict, they emerge from their dens, often in packs. Hollow-cheeked and glassy of eye, they seek only one thing: sustenance to carry them through the night’s project work.
This is their habitat. They know its every nook and cranny; they have made it their home. They work and play and sleep here. And at this hour, they know where food is to be found.
There’s always a company event or presentation evening going on in one of WBS’s lounges, and where these people gather, there is prey. The prey: leftover buffet. Sandwiches, cakes, and if you’re lucky some of those yakitori things or the chicken pieces with pepper.
It may be in the upstairs lounge, where the central terrace glows eerily in the spring moonlight. Or the hall opposite, where the strange coven known as the Alumni meet for their lunar rituals. Sometimes the MBA wing itself, although in this area the hunters are many and the land overgrazed; but venturing further afield, to the smaller rooms of the 3rd or even 4th floors, can yield rich pickings for the alert hunter.
The prey has been found: a consulting company presenting in a meeting hall. Swiftly and silently, the MBAs take their prey without a struggle, and slink back into the syndicate rooms from whence they came.