The next day, following the address on the business card, Klein arrived in front of a rather run-down building.
The brickwork on its outer walls had begun to flake away, and mottled patches covered the surface. It looked at least several decades old.
Only when he saw two burly men in gray uniforms standing outside, apparently guards, did Klein realize he had come to the right place.
"The Truth Society... It certainly looks unassuming," Klein murmured, lightly rubbing the gilt-edged business card in his pocket.
After a night of consideration, he had decided to visit the guild and see what it was like.
He walked straight up to the entrance, where one of the guards reached out to stop him. "Identification."
"Identification?"
After thinking for a second, Klein handed over the business card Charles Hoorn had given him.
The guard took the card, looked Klein over a few times, then gave a slight nod. "Please go in."
"Thank you." Klein took back the card and walked straight toward the door.
When he pushed the door open, Klein's pupils contracted slightly.
Unlike its shabby exterior, the building's interior was surprisingly spacious. The hall was brightly lit, and its walls were covered with all kinds of wanted posters, case summaries, and maps.
Even more striking were the hundreds of people gathered in the hall.
"That bastard definitely used a false identity! I checked down at the docks. There was no such person!"
An agitated voice came from the left. Klein glanced over and saw a stubbly middle-aged man slapping a table, a stack of yellowed lists spread out before him.
"Heh, you're still investigating that? I told you ages ago, if he'd used his real identity, that bounty wouldn't still be up."
The entire space was filled with low conversations and