The site's searchlights weren't on, and the two opposing groups were only barely illuminated by the faint glow of the distant Manhattan night scene.
"Agent Sitwell."
Madame Gao's hands were folded over the dragon-head handle of her rosewood cane. No panic could be seen on her wrinkled face, and her voice was raspy and slow, carrying a tone that was more of an interrogation than an inquiry: "A late-night visit... this doesn't seem to be within the scope of our agreement, does it?"
"If this old woman remembers correctly, not a single cent that was supposed to reach your accounts has been missing."
"That is indeed true; credibility has always been The Hand's golden trademark." Sitwell pushed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, a bureaucratic, skin-deep smile on his face. "But the problem is, Madame Gao, you've caused too much of a stir this time."
He pointed to the slightly trembling ground beneath his feet and said meaningfully, "Three consecutive weeks of low-frequency vibrations. The bureau's geological monitoring department has already drafted three reports. If I hadn't been marking this data as the aftershocks of subway expansion... I'm afraid it wouldn't be me coming this time, but quinjets."
Madame Gao's cloudy eyes shifted slightly, and a cold smile curled at the corners of her mouth. "Since Mr. Sitwell can suppress this matter, it shows it's not an unsolvable trouble. Speak, Mr. Agent, are you dissatisfied with the previous lubrication fees?"
"Haha, money is a good thing; no one ever thinks they have too much."
Sitwell shrugged and looked at Madame Gao, a greedy light flashing in his eyes. "But at our level, simple numbers sometimes don't bring a sense of security. As a partner, I need to know what I'm helping you cover up."
"Only by knowing the bottom line can I serve you better, can't I?"
"Ultimately, we aren't the type to raise prices on the spot; we just want to broaden our horizons."
This was blatant prying.
Sitwell had clearly caught a scent of something unusual and wanted to see the bottom of this hand of cards.
Facing this overstepping probe, Madame Gao merely lowered her eyelids indifferently, her tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Mr. Agent worries too much. There are no earth-shattering secrets; this is just a small private hobby of us old folks."
"We are excavating some cultural relics and some rare prehistoric biological fossils."
"You know how it is; as one gets older, one always becomes exceptionally fascinated by these old things buried in the dirt."
"Pfft—"
Far away in her apartment, Sumire almost spat out the cola she had just sipped upon hearing this nonsense.
"Are you serious? Digging for cultural relics in New York?"
Sumire wiped the corner of her mouth, her face full of speechlessness. "This excuse is too lazy. Even saying you're drilling for oil would be more believable than this."
However, complaints aside.
Combining current intelligence, the puzzle pieces in Sumire's mind finally came together.
From a certain perspective, Madame Gao wasn't entirely lying; she was indeed digging for 'fossils.'
Only they weren't dinosaur fossils, but—Dragon Bone.
This thing was the skeletal remains left behind after an ancient divine dragon died, containing an extremely vast amount of 'Qi.'
The old monsters leading The Hand ground it into powder and used it with secret methods to gain long lives, even allowing their ninja subordinates to be resurrected repeatedly. It was just that their stock was running low, which was why they were so desperately digging for new Dragon Bone in New York.
Of course, Sumire had always looked down on this stuff.
It was true that Dragon Bone could extend one's life, but once one started using it, it had to be consumed continuously.
Otherwise, the body would rapidly fail, and long-term consumption would lead to the decay of internal organs.
What was the difference between that and a junkie? More fatally, this stuff only granted longevity, not eternal youth.
It was also true that it could bring the dead back to life, but the mind and soul of the resurrected would become fragmented and incomplete.
With such severe side effects... Sumire didn't want to turn herself into a crazy, ugly old hag.
Compared to the true artifacts in the Marvel Universe, Dragon Bone could at most be considered a third-rate supplement with a curse.
Sumire didn't think much of it.
Of course, if she could take it away as a collectible or use it as a trump card, it would be a decent choice.
Sumire's gaze turned playful. "I see... that explains it."
"Why The Hand could carry out such a massive project for so many years right under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose without being discovered."
"They're all just birds of a feather!"
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