Sylvester sat there in the room, his face resting on his palm. His eyes remained closed, but his mind raged on with ideas, suspicions, and theories. He detested it because he lacked the information to come to any conclusion.
Considering the fact that the names Gabriel suggested were all either famous monarchs, genocidal rulers, or great thinkers. It terrified him to even imagine who Saint Scepter was. Sylvester asked himself, who was he against? Which mastermind from history was he up to? And the biggest question was, what was all that for? Who was the Saint Scepter serving?
Sylvester held no delusion that he was the greatest spy and thinker in the world. The Shadow of Masan had already proved it once. He didn't need to learn the same lesson twice.
