The Stick Monk cleanly cut off Sowande's head. Listening to the blood gush from the severed neck, he sheathed his blade with disdain. "What a boring last word."
"But it did make some sense," Frank said gravely. "We helped Madam Gao silence the opposition within The Hand."
"Criminals will always exist, but The Hand probably won't be able to stir up much trouble anytime soon." Luke was far more open-minded about it. "As for Madam Gao, we'll deal with her when we get the chance."
At that moment, Matt and the two remaining True Pure Society ninjas walked over. "It's all taken care of."
"You didn't leave anyone alive, did you?" The Stick Monk looked doubtfully at his disciple. He knew Matt too well. That Catholic who liked solving problems through the law—what if he'd shown mercy?
"The Stick Monk." Matt sighed wearily. "Those ninjas had no need for redemption. The Hand's secret arts have too many side effects. Even if we didn't kill them, they wouldn't survive more than a few hours."
"That's true." The Stick Monk rarely showed a smile. Although Madam Gao had escaped, four of The Hand's five fingers had been severed. It was arguably the greatest blow they had suffered in centuries.
"It's over. What do we do with this place?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D.," Frank said. "They're professionals when it comes to cleanup. It definitely won't lead back to us."
"That's good." Matt relaxed slightly, then suddenly thought of something. "Alexandra is dead, and all The Hand's ninjas have been dealt with. You don't need to keep wearing that anymore, right?"
Frank paused and tried to remove the mask, but it felt like he was tearing off his own face. Other than pain, it did nothing.
"Maybe it needs a little more time."
"Fine. Then let's head