Chapter ElevenTHE PAGODA, JAPAN – OCTOBER 1967
The Raven sat as still as a stone in the darkness of his pagoda. The pagoda was his sanctuary, the place where he was strongest and most secure. It was the place where he could train and test himself in the killing arts. It was the domain of the Karasu-Tengu and his followers.
He felt the heat engulf him, the humidity encasing him. He still didn't move. His eyes were closed and his breathing was calm. But inside, his hard muscles and tendons were fixed, ready to spring at a moment's notice. He shifted subtly in his crossed leg position, barely more than a whisper against the wooden floor, as his arms reached up to fix the black hood of his Shinobi Shozoko, the traditional clothing of his assassins, into place. The hardness of his face was lo
