Roland watched his companions fall silent.
Knowing full well how much psychological pressure his earlier words had placed on them, Roland could not help but sigh softly in the depths of his heart.
Without saying a word, he intended to find himself a stool and rest for a while.
And give his companions some time to think.
However.
Just as he moved his feet.
Suddenly.
Driven by some instinctive premonition.
He instantly drew the two revolvers at his waist with lightning speed.
Pointing their muzzles toward a certain spot in the waiting room.
There.
Where no one should have been, a figure in a green suit had appeared soundlessly at some unknown moment.
Judging by his appearance alone.
He was a white male with brown eyes, seemingly in his thirties.
As for his features, there was nothing distinctive about them. He had the sort of ordinary face one forgot the moment one looked away.
Facing Roland, who was aiming guns at him.
The other man displayed no startled reaction.
He merely waved calmly and said:
"Gunslinger—Roland."
"Roland.De Shan, from Jili of the Middle World."
"You need not be nervous. We are not enemies."
After saying that.
He looked at Roland's companions and called them out one by one:
"Of course."
"Roland's companions, his ka—Tate—are the same."
"Eddie Dean from New York City in the 1980s, Odetta Susanna Holmes from New York City in the 1960s, Jack Chambers from New York City in the 1970s..."
Finally, he looked at the dog-like creature and smiled as he nodded.
"And you, a Raccoon Dog from the Middle World, Ao Yi."
"I do not think everyone needs to be so tense."
From beginning to end.
The man's expression and tone remained peaceful and composed.
Faced with someone who had revealed all their origins, Roland