The Akatsuki's hideout lay deep within an abandoned underground drainage system.
Moss covered the damp stone walls, and murky water dripped steadily from the cracks, splashing into puddles with monotonous echoes.
A few dim oil lamps provided the only light, barely illuminating the small space.
The air smelled of mildew and rust, mingled with the faint air of frailty that came from prolonged malnutrition.
At that moment, the cramped space was packed with people.
Besides Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan, there were more than a dozen other Akatsuki members.
Most were young, dressed in rags, with sallow faces and gaunt bodies.
Yet a similar light burned in all their eyes-discontent with the way things were, tempered by a faint hope. It was the light of idealists.
Now, however, that light flickered violently, like candles guttering in the wind.
Every gaze fixed on the figures who had just entered the hideout.
Leading them was the mysterious masked man, the "Majesty" of Las Noches.
He still wore his spotless white haori, utterly out of place amid the filth and decay.
Behind him, Tier Harribel stood to his left with a massive sword over her shoulder, while the elegant, composed Haschwalth stood to his right.
Starrk leaned lazily against the entrance, Lilynette looked around curiously, and Luppi stood with his arms folded, undisguised arrogance on his face.
What frightened the Akatsuki members even more was the sight of their leader, Yahiko.
An invisible force held him captive, suspended half a meter behind Liuyu.
Though fully conscious, he could not move so much as a finger. All he could do was watch.
Nagato stood silently half a step behind Liuyu's side, his head lowered and his red hair hiding his face. His position said everything.
Konan bit her lip, her face pale, staying close to