At eight that evening, Ririko pushed open the wooden doors to the conference room.
Every conversation inside stopped at once. More than a dozen impeccably dressed monks turned in unison, their gazes settling on her.
They had already heard from Matthew that he had found a "special woman" to offer to the High Priest, and had spent all day speculating in private-
Was she some heavily made-up dancing girl? Or a daughter sent by a bankrupt noble family to curry favor with the church?
But this woman's mysterious, sultry face was like a blade half-wrapped in cloth. It was clearly dangerous, yet the gems on its hilt kept tempting people to claim it.
No one spoke. Even their breathing seemed deliberately hushed.
Ririko glanced around the room, then walked over and sat beside the head of the conference table.
She drawled:
"It's already eight. Why hasn't the meeting started?"
The gazes withdrew one after another.
The monks took their seats.
Matthew sat at the head of the long table, his round, oily face brimming with smug satisfaction as he said:
"Gentlemen, for tomorrow's sacrifice, Oswald Cobblepot will serve as the embodiment of Gotham's sins. We need to make the ceremony more ritualistic, more awe-inspiring...
After careful consideration, burning him at the stake would be more suitable than any other method. The flames symbolize the Death Angel's flaming sword and will stir the deepest emotional response in our faithful."
The monks around the table nodded.
Matthew continued:
"As for the music, I've contacted the choir. We'll accompany them with organ and brass. The lighting must have a sense of ceremony. The torch should be carried once around the altar before being handed to the High Priest."
"What about a livestream?" a tall, thin monk beside him interjected.
"I suggest broadcasting the