The basement level of an abandoned church.
In the scattered, cavernous underground space, six figures had gathered atop a raised platform. Five stood on the platform, while one knelt at the steps.
There were no lights and no sounds. Only several flickering flames on a distant wall provided a faint glimmer for the vast, empty underground space.
A faint scent of blood hung in the air. Tracing it to its source led directly to the center of the platform, to the altar-like stone table surrounded by the five people.
At the head of the group, an elderly woman leaning on a massive wooden cane, her body hunched and her face withered, was the first to break the silence.
"Bakuto, I don't want to hear any more of your nonsense. Don't preach like some saint. You know it—there's no difference between you and me."
A man whose features could not be seen replied from the lower right corner, "Madame Gao, you know perfectly well that I wasn't preaching. I was stating facts, and you know that too."
It was not difficult to tell from their conversation that the elderly woman called Madame Gao had some issue with the man called Bakuto. Yet the fact that she had not refuted him showed that Madame Gao likely agreed with his view. She simply did not want to admit it.
Or perhaps she was unwilling to admit it.
"Bakuto. I don't have much longer to live."
Madame Gao said, "If I could, I wouldn't want to be this hasty or this obvious. But I really am about to die."
Bakuto said nothing, tacitly accepting Madame Gao's words. The other three leaders of The Hand standing alongside them also remained silent, likewise accepting what Madame Gao had said.
Yes, Madame Gao truly was close to