The "Annan Dream Fund" was a long-term initiative. Annan attended for a week, then left the rest to others.
Idelia had a mountain of official business to handle. There was no way she could spare an afternoon to interview Alchemists.
Dunbelly was already a beneficiary of the fund, and helping choose applicants suited him. He certainly couldn't get out of it.
As for the remaining seat... Annan put the Black-Clad Cardinal in it.
The Wealth Church was funding the initiative, so it was only right that they send someone to review the applicants. That still left one seat. Annan wanted someone on Free City's side who could stand up to the Black-Clad Cardinal.
Annan's gaze fell on Francois, who had just hurried back, and his dark eyes lit up.
A chill ran down Francois's spine. He felt as though something terrifying had fixed its gaze on him, and his legs nearly gave way.
He made a tiny turn on the spot and swiftly vanished from Annan's sight.
"Francois—"
Annan was about to call him back, but Francois said without turning around, "I just remembered I left something cooking. I have to check the pot!"
Ingrid passed Francois, who was fleeing as though a dog were on his heels, and drew the terrifying being's attention instead.
"Sorry, I'm busy."
"I haven't even said what I want!" Annan snapped.
"Go on, then."
"We're still one person short to interview the Alchemists—"
"I'm busy."
Ingrid's refusal came even faster this time. She walked away, her boots striking the floor.
"I'm stripping you all of your duties!" Annan muttered.
"Is that an option?" asked the Minister of the Military Affairs Department, passing by with a delighted look.
He had originally come with Annan to make himself useful and offer the younger generation some guidance.