In Nasir City, there is an ancient and solemn mansion, just a few kilometers away from the famous Fischer Manor.
The elderly and extraordinary leader of the "Dagger Brotherhood," Moore, stood quietly on the spacious balcony.
His not so tall figure was concealed by the gray curtain woven by the torrential rain, emanating a mysterious and ineffable authority.
Raindrops fell around him like pearls off a broken string, harshly striking the stone pavement, splashing countless fine and rapid droplets, as nature displayed its irresistible force and wildness at this moment.
Moore, dressed in a well-fitted dark suit with a coat of the same color, had his lapels fluttering lightly with the occasional strong wind, yet his composure and determination remained unshaken.
His features were stern and profound, and those eyes that seemed to see into people's hearts were now piercing through the dense rain curtain, gazing at the blurred scenery swallowed by the storm.
