Any speculation without concrete proof would inevitably carry a person's subjective biases.
Mr. Gandiro had, of course, had other choices, and his path could be explained in other ways. But only this line of reasoning could make Mrs. Gandiro feel... most comfortable.
Of course, Kallen felt it all made sense, and his conjecture was most likely correct. He had merely deliberately left out some other factors and possibilities when presenting it.
He treated Mrs. Gandiro as his "client." The essence of treatment was to ease his clients' suffering and make them feel more comfortable and relaxed.
He was neither a detective nor a judge. There was no need to insist on a perfect account of the truth.
Mrs. Gandiro walked dazedly up to the crystal coffin, braced her hands against its rim, and murmured, "You mean he's completely dead?"
"This was your husband's way of protecting you."
"But I don't want this kind of protection. To me, it's more of a torment."
"Your husband was indeed a genius, but he wasn't a god, after all. He was only loving you as best he could."
"Heh. Perhaps I shouldn't have let you speak."
"Your earlier treatment of my people made it quite clear that you aren't an apostate in the true sense. You let me speak simply because you wanted to give yourself an excuse, a reason.
"Because you know perfectly well why I'm speaking: so that my team members and I can survive. Isn't that right?"
"Kallen Immoreles?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You were very right about one thing. If my husband could see you, he would probably be very excited."
"Though I regret not meeting the esteemed Mr. Gandiro, through you, ma'am, we have already sensed each other's presence."
"I want to know what my husband experienced after he left here,