The police officer froze for a moment. He looked Kent up and down. Kent had neither changed clothes nor cleaned himself up properly. He had been scrambling around in that basement earlier, getting himself covered in dust and grime. Normally, the station would hardly receive someone like this, because people like him were likely addicts hallucinating after getting high. And the fact that he wanted to see the Sheriff the moment he arrived was indeed very strange.
But Kent was simply far too handsome. Even covered in dust and grime, he had a certain wild appeal. The only superpower the system could not punish was being handsome. The officer truly could not believe that someone this good-looking could be a lunatic high out of his mind.
He opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing. After a pause, he finally said, "The Sheriff went out on patrol. Why don't you wait?"
"Fine." Kent did not say anything else and sat down in a chair in the reception hall. Whether blinded by lust or dazzled by beauty, the officer even poured Kent a glass of water before asking, "You have something to give the Sheriff? What is it?"
"Some leads on a case. We arranged this before," Kent said. "But before I came here, my friend ran into a little trouble. The car got stuck in the mud, and it took us a long time to get it out. Otherwise, I wouldn't have missed the agreed time."
The officer suddenly understood and said, "So that's what happened. But I didn't hear that the Sheriff had arranged to meet anyone."
Kent glanced around and lowered his voice. "I'm a reporter."
The officer looked at him in surprise. After studying him again, he said, "You really do look like someone from a big city.