The Golden Ritual
Act I "Did you check the tensile specs on the new mortar batch?" Kenji Kondo asked, his eyes fixed on the crumbling edge of the golden spire. The structure hung above the terraced tea hills like a broken tooth, its surface flaking under the grey Tōhoku fog. His brother, Haruki, stood behind him, arms crossed, wearing a suit that cost more than Kenji’s monthly tow-truck dispatch fee. "The plans...
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