"Saint of Secrets"? The man who'd just given me a terrifying feeling, and had the dense aura of the True Creator about him?
"Who are you?"
Klein's wandering thoughts were interrupted by the question. He came back to himself and politely nodded to the middle-aged man behind the desk.
"Are you Mr. Rand?"
"I'm Stenson, a reporter for the Backlund Daily. Here's my press pass. I'd like to do a feature on the association and help you attract more attention."
Klein sounded so sincere that even he almost believed he was a reporter.
The middle-aged man behind the desk looked distinctly hesitant.
"I am Rand. To be honest, it's hard for me to believe reporters would come here to help us of their own accord."
To be honest, I don't believe it myself.
Klein added the words silently. He really wanted to take the man up on the offer and leave, but he worried that doing so might draw the terrifying Saint of Secrets's attention. Besides, he still hadn't accomplished what he'd come here to do: find Lanevus.
After hesitating for less than two seconds, he "reluctantly" made up his mind.
After a pause, he wore a look of recollection mixed with sorrow and said, "I was born in the East District. I know all too well how miserable the workers' lives are. If you don't believe my intentions, you can follow me the whole time and supervise every question I ask."
"This might not immediately change the workers' current circumstances, but I believe that if we can draw more attention to the problem, it will be solved sooner or later."
Rand touched what little hair remained on his head and replied hesitantly, "All right."
"I'll stay with you the whole time."
"Thank you!" Klein nodded to him with barely