The international summit suffered its worst incident in decades.
This was not merely an assassination. Under the cameras of the global media, right before the eyes of world leaders, inside an international convention center with unprecedented security, someone had silently breached every line of defense and taken the life of a summit chairman.
Capacitor-news like this was, of course, firmly suppressed among the general public.
The official statement claimed that Chairman Cengfeng Dieshui had overworked himself during preparations for the summit and suddenly fallen gravely ill on the eve of the conference. He had been rushed to the hospital for treatment and, regrettably, would be unable to attend.
The responsibility of speaking with dignitaries from other countries naturally passed to the next in line, a member of the Kijima Family's main branch.
At the press conference, the Kijima Family's representative stood before reporters from around the world with a warm, polished smile, answering every question without losing his composure.
His wording was airtight, his smile perfectly measured, as though everything were under control.
But those who knew the truth understood that beneath that calm face lay terror he was desperately trying to suppress.
Because the Kijima Family knew better than anyone that Cengfeng Dieshui should have belonged to their faction.
Had the Naoe Faction not intervened and snatched away the hosting rights, the person lying in the morgue today might have been one of their own.
What frightened them even more was that the assassin codenamed Moon had taken Cengfeng Dieshui's life without killing even one of the three grandmasters.
The three grandmasters did not have a single blade wound on their bodies, yet every sword in their hands had been severed, the cut surfaces smooth as mirrors.
Being able to kill but choosing not to was the true deterrent.