In a dimly lit room, far from the bustling streets of Kyoto, a man in a phoenix mask sat motionless behind an ornate desk. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows across the room, dancing on the walls like restless spirits. A gentle knock broke the silence.
"Enter," the masked man commanded, his voice low and measured.
The door creaked open, and a slender figure slipped inside, bowing deeply before approaching the desk.
"Sir," the assistant began, voice barely above a whisper, "the Pang brothers have recently been spotted in Kyoto."
The masked man leaned forward, his interest piqued. "What are they up to? Why would both of them be in a small city like Kyoto?"
"I will try to dig deeper, sir, and will keep you updated," the assistant replied, eager to please.
The man's fingers drummed against the polished wood. "Make sure you don't lose them. I want to know who they meet, who they eat with, where they take a poop—I want to know it all."