The spread of faith was even faster than imagined.
Benedict was a man of tremendous initiative, and he had a group of followers behind him.
That very day, a team from the Provisional Administration Bureau fell.
Even Flesh Mountain found it unbelievably smooth. Benedict was even more proactive than he, the mole.
That evening, just as Flesh Mountain was getting ready to clock out, go home, and lie down, Benedict stopped him.
"Don't leave yet. None of the brothers in our team are on duty today, so I'm throwing you a welcome dinner," Benedict said loudly.
The Management Bureau's offices were shared. The people from the other teams heard him and merely gave them a few extra glances.
They all knew that Benedict's team had gained a formidable new member. Now it seemed like nothing more than Benedict trying to win him over further.
Flesh Mountain hesitated for a moment. He did not think he needed a welcome dinner.
But Bax had already hooked an arm around his and said enthusiastically, "Brother Rosen, let's go."
Flesh Mountain thought it was still necessary to build good relationships with his colleagues, so he agreed.
But he soon realized he was wrong.
"This is a welcome dinner?"
Looking at the cheap takeout spread across the table, Flesh Mountain really wanted to ask whether they had misunderstood the meaning of the words "welcome dinner."
Seeing how clueless Flesh Mountain was, Benedict looked like he hated iron for not turning into steel. "Brother Rosen, your awareness is far too low. This is the time to fight for our sacred cause. Forget the welcome dinner."
Well, damn. So the welcome dinner had only been an excuse.
Flesh Mountain felt somewhat depressed. He had been flattering himself.
After wolfing down the takeout, Benedict cleaned the table with