Malt gripped the edge of the door tightly and could not help asking again, "The sandstorm in the Death Desert is different from those elsewhere. And this one is a sandstorm on this scale!"
Emma raised a hand to shield her eyes. The headscarf she had used to wrap her hair had already come loose, and her naturally curly brown hair was tossed into disarray by the gale, but it did nothing to diminish her appearance.
"Don't you think this sandstorm came rather strangely?" Emma said. Malt's expression tightened. "It did come extremely suddenly, without the slightest prelude. It was as if it had formed on such a massive scale in an instant. But that is how the Death Desert is. If you live here long enough, you'll learn that most of this place's anomalies simply make no sense."
Emma nodded slightly. "That is exactly why. The other party is someone who knows the desert dwellers exceptionally well. Every thought you might have is within his expectations. What happened just now already showed that he is very clever. And since we have established that he is a clever person, I usually do not mind assuming he is even cleverer."
Malt parted her lips slightly, then sighed only after a long while.
She finally understood Emma's line of thought. After considering it carefully, she had no choice but to admit that it was highly plausible.
Among Ali Baba's Golden Township Bandits, he was the one most closely connected to the Sand Tribe.
He knew the Sand Tribe extremely well.
Yet the Sand Tribe's knowledge of him was very limited.
The labels he displayed on the surface were cleverness, kindness, trustworthiness, and a complete lack of Greed.
Those qualities were utterly out of place in the Death Desert, as if he were