"So this is your guess?"
The rain outside cleansed Old Dunling, as if washing away all filth, while the candlelight inside burned quietly, melted wax overflowing and then solidifying.
The Plague Doctor listened to the story Lawrence told, not long or complicated, merely a snapshot of an old man's life of ups and downs.
"Yes, I suspect Lorenzo de' Medici isn't dead. He's managed the Evangelical Church for so long; I can't believe he hasn't read the 'Revelation.'" Lawrence's eyes were dark, feeling as though an invisible enemy had appeared before him.
"Even I can find ways to 'immortality' within it. How could Lorenzo de' Medici possibly not find his own 'immortality'?"
Lawrence thought as he picked up a black-and-white photo from the table, depicting a familiar person, Lorenzo Holmes.
"Lawrence..."
The Plague Doctor thought of something, feeling a surge of terror, he spoke with some fear.
"You're not the first to discover this Authority, Authority·Gabriel."
