The Taichu Golden Sky-Cruiser cut through the night clouds like a streak of pure gold.
Twin spirit-turbines roared with smooth, overwhelming power. Below the vessel, the neon lights of Tokyo faded into the dark sea of cedar trees that blanketed the base of Mount Fuji. The cold mountain wind whipped against the exterior energy shielding, scattering frost across the thick observation windows.
On the bridge, Tang Xiaomi tapped her glowing crystal display. “Chairman Lin, we have arrived above the northern forest. The subterranean blood-formation is directly beneath that jagged volcanic ridge. Thermal scans show one hundred living souls trapped seventy meters underground.”
Kagura Mio pointed at a plume of greasy crimson smoke curling up between the dark pines. “That is the stench of corrupted blood-magic. They have already ignited the sacrificial pyres. My spiritual senses can feel the mountain weeping.”
Lin Mo leaned against the polished brass rail, finishing his cup of warm tea.
Running away from your unpaid corporate debts was bad enough. Dragging one hundred elderly shrine keepers into a damp cave to feed an ancient snake demon was terrible manners. Lin Mo had met plenty of petty villains in his life, but the Kurokawa family truly went out of their way to earn negative morality points. They worked overtime at being evil, and they didn’t even get paid time-and-a-half for it.
