At three o'clock in the afternoon, Dongbailang Dock, Dockworkers Association.
Crane wore a thick sweater, a brown-yellow jacket and a simple soft hat, which made her image closer to the common investigative journalists, rather than the outfit that often attended banquets and interviewed people with status and status, which cost him an extra £10.
At this time, he was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was neatly combed back, and his face was glossy. He had no messy beard on his face. He had to wrap his lips around his lips, and his height was at least five centimeters more than before. He tried to have a clear difference from the image of the worker last night, so that people who were not particularly familiar could not have associations at all.
In his pockets of his clothes and pants, there was no Eye of All Black, no various talismans and herbal essential oils, so he had to have a deck of tarot cards, a stack of sticky notes, a water-filled pen, a wallet, a change, a bunch of keys, and a fake reporter's certificate.
He did not know the current state of Ranhös, nor did he know where the powerful and extraordinary people surrounding the other party came from, so he was cautious and did not bring any items that would arouse suspicion.
Looking at the two-story building ahead, Klein walked through the street, pretending not to rely on the clown's intuition to find several gazes staring at him.
He pushed open the door and found that the layout of the dock union was quite simple, with no ladies in charge of reception, nor a spacious hall. The staircase leading to the second floor was in the center, with office corridors on both sides, and there were no wooden boards on the ground, not to mention blankets, and it was simply built with cement.
Klein turned his head and looked at the man guarding the door, then moved closer and said:
I am a reporter for the Beckland Daily, and I want to interview the staff of your association to understand your demands and desires.
The man was wearing a coat with a lot of patches, with some of the corners even showing dirty cotton wool, and only a linen shirt inside.
After hearing the word "Reporter", he suddenly became alert and replied in a mixed voice:
No!We haven't organized a strike recently, no!
I think you misunderstood. I am a person who sympathizes with you. I plan to do a special report describing the things the unions do and the practical difficulties they encounter in helping workers. Believe me.With the extraordinary ability of the clown, Clean made his eyes look extremely sincere.
So Ah...you go to Mr. Rand, who is our committee member in charge of publicity, turn right, and the second office on the right.The man hesitated for a few seconds.
Thanks.Klein pretended to be relaxed and felt the eyes of him gaze disappearing in the dark corner.
His back turned to the right with a little cold sweat and knocked on the door of the corresponding office.
As the door opened, a middle-aged man with sparse hair looked at him in confusion and said:
Who are you?
Is it Mr. Rand?I am Statham, a reporter from Beckland Daily. This is my reporter's certificate. I want to do a report on the theme of the union to help you gain more attention.Klein was almost convinced that he was a journalist.
I am Rand.The middle-aged man glanced at the reporter's certificate and said hesitantly unhappily, "I can't believe that you reporters are here to help us."
I was born in the East Side and I know how miserable the workers’ lives are, and if you don’t believe my intentions, you can always follow me and oversee every issue of me.Crane suddenly smiled and added that I had reports made by actual interview materials, which were better than nothing, and was written entirely based on imagination. At least you can explain your views and guide things in the hope.
Rand touched his scalp and replied hesitantly:
All right.
I will follow you all the way.
Thanks!Klein almost couldn't control his emotions.
Afterwards, under Rand's leadership, he entered one office after another and interviewed the workers' association staff according to the preset questions in advance.
There was no harvest in the corridor on the right, there was no harvest in the corridor on the left... Klein stepped on the wooden stairs as usual and came to the second floor.
This time, Rand took him into the office opposite the stairs and introduced to the person inside:
This is a reporter from the Beckland Daily, Mr. Statham.
He wants to do some interviews with you, but I must remind you in advance that you have the right to refuse to answer some questions.
Klein smiled and took two steps forward, making a gesture of shaking hands with the office staff one by one.
At this moment, he saw a slightly familiar figure.
Although the other party's skin turned bronze, his ordinary round face became angular, and his glasses were also changed from round frames to long gold-edged frames, Klein still found a trace of inexplicable familiarity with the spiritual intuition of the diviner.
Immediately afterwards, his body trembled and the smile on his face almost lost control.
No, sorry, I suddenly had a stomachache. Where is the bathroom?Crane asked with a embarrassed smile as she covered her abdomen with no pen and sticky notes.
Rand and the staff in the office did not doubt it and pointed at the outsider:
Go out, turn left, and walk to the end and you can see the sign.
Klein smiled and stepped back, left the door, and rushed straight to the bathroom.
After entering, he picked the toilet lattice near the window, sat on the toilet, and locked the wooden door.
He bent down his back, his mouth widened, and he laughed silently, laughing so hard that he couldn't straighten his waist, and a drop of crystal liquid fell to the ground.
Klein has confirmed that it is Ranrus!
This was not based on the little sense of familiarity, but rather that he noticed another breath in the other party, which impressed him to the extreme!
And this is also the main reason why he almost lost control on the spot just now.
His body trembles come from instinctive fear and fear!
His emotional collapse comes from the thriller and sadness deep in his memory!
That's
That's...
That is the breath of the real Creator!
…………
Klein washed his face and continued the interview without anything happening. Even when facing the Lanceus who had changed so much for some reason, he asked questions step by step and recorded the answers.
Doing all this, he said goodbye and left the dockworkers' association and walked out of the house with poor lighting and slightly dim light.
The clouds were covered with mist outside, as if it was early to enter the evening.
The breath of the real Creator can only come from Himself, His descendants, and things that extend on this basis, such as the objects He gave, such as His divinity... This is very consistent with the words Ramèus said to Hud Oggen, and coupled with the inexplicable sense of familiarity, I can't confirm that it is Him... If I had not had dealt with the real Creator several times and had frequent contact with his spiritual pollution, I could not recognize that the aura that did not contain power or person belonged to Him... Klein was in a very serious mood, but he looked very relaxed.
He stood on the street and deliberately sorted out the interview note.
During this process, he saw a familiar figure among the homeless man opposite him.
Ms. Hugh?Klein made a guess instantly based on the incident.
He did not stop, packed the notes and headed towards the station of the public carriage.
At this moment, a carriage suddenly stopped in front of him.
We met again.Sitting in the carriage was a thin but elegant middle-aged and elderly gentleman. His temples were gray and elegant. He was the detective who could assist the police in investigating the case, Aisinger Stanton.
And Klein's appearance at this time is not much different from usual, he is just a little taller and has changed his clothes.
What a coincidence, I was thinking about the last interview with you.Klein answered this on purpose.
Aisinger understood it immediately and changed the topic with a smile:
I came here to investigate the case. Shibel's death case was removed and I was mainly responsible for it. Her death was very close to Dongbailang Dock.
Is it really an imitation crime?Klein pretended to know.
After a few greetings, he got on a railroad bus and did not go home directly, and turned to the Kragg Club in the Hillston District.
In the club's lounge, he quickly went to the gray fog and confirmed that no one was following him.
At this point, Klein completely relaxed and felt scared.
The breath of the real Creator was like a nightmare, lingering in his mind, making his back-fitting clothes dry and wet, wet and dry.
To ensure that, Klein showed a yellow-brown parchment paper and a crimson round-bellied pen in front of him, and then wrote the divination sentence that had been considered long ago:
The source of the previously inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Putting down the pen and leaning against the back of the chair, he entered the dream while silently reciting.
In that gray and illusory world, he saw a figure.
The figure is ordinary in facial features, wearing round-frame glasses, and always has a look down and sarcastic smile. It is Lanerus!
Finally found you!Klein no longer used the clown's ability to control his expression and gritted his teeth and said to himself.
Immediately, he sat upright, ready to respond to Miss Justice’s prayer.
Klein controlled his emotions and spoke in a low and indifferent voice:
No confirmation is required.
That's Lahlus.
You can inform the Church of the Goddess of the Night and tell them that Lanceus has the divine nature of the ‘fallen Creator’.
…………
Audrey, who was watching her father trained a hound with Susie, was stunned for a moment after hearing Mr. Fool's response.
The Falling Creator...Isn't this the real Creator?
That fraudster actually has the divine nature of the real Creator?
This, this, is a simple task that actually involves the divinity of the real Creator!
Sure enough, I said that Mr. Fool also has a deep purpose...He is targeting the real Creator... He is worthy of being Mr. Fool!
Audrey instantly had many ideas.
Crane wore a thick sweater, a brown-yellow jacket and a simple soft hat, which made her image closer to the common investigative journalists, rather than the outfit that often attended banquets and interviewed people with status and status, which cost him an extra £10.
At this time, he was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was neatly combed back, and his face was glossy. He had no messy beard on his face. He had to wrap his lips around his lips, and his height was at least five centimeters more than before. He tried to have a clear difference from the image of the worker last night, so that people who were not particularly familiar could not have associations at all.
In his pockets of his clothes and pants, there was no Eye of All Black, no various talismans and herbal essential oils, so he had to have a deck of tarot cards, a stack of sticky notes, a water-filled pen, a wallet, a change, a bunch of keys, and a fake reporter's certificate.
He did not know the current state of Ranhös, nor did he know where the powerful and extraordinary people surrounding the other party came from, so he was cautious and did not bring any items that would arouse suspicion.
Looking at the two-story building ahead, Klein walked through the street, pretending not to rely on the clown's intuition to find several gazes staring at him.
He pushed open the door and found that the layout of the dock union was quite simple, with no ladies in charge of reception, nor a spacious hall. The staircase leading to the second floor was in the center, with office corridors on both sides, and there were no wooden boards on the ground, not to mention blankets, and it was simply built with cement.
Klein turned his head and looked at the man guarding the door, then moved closer and said:
I am a reporter for the Beckland Daily, and I want to interview the staff of your association to understand your demands and desires.
The man was wearing a coat with a lot of patches, with some of the corners even showing dirty cotton wool, and only a linen shirt inside.
After hearing the word "Reporter", he suddenly became alert and replied in a mixed voice:
No!We haven't organized a strike recently, no!
I think you misunderstood. I am a person who sympathizes with you. I plan to do a special report describing the things the unions do and the practical difficulties they encounter in helping workers. Believe me.With the extraordinary ability of the clown, Clean made his eyes look extremely sincere.
So Ah...you go to Mr. Rand, who is our committee member in charge of publicity, turn right, and the second office on the right.The man hesitated for a few seconds.
Thanks.Klein pretended to be relaxed and felt the eyes of him gaze disappearing in the dark corner.
His back turned to the right with a little cold sweat and knocked on the door of the corresponding office.
As the door opened, a middle-aged man with sparse hair looked at him in confusion and said:
Who are you?
Is it Mr. Rand?I am Statham, a reporter from Beckland Daily. This is my reporter's certificate. I want to do a report on the theme of the union to help you gain more attention.Klein was almost convinced that he was a journalist.
I am Rand.The middle-aged man glanced at the reporter's certificate and said hesitantly unhappily, "I can't believe that you reporters are here to help us."
I was born in the East Side and I know how miserable the workers’ lives are, and if you don’t believe my intentions, you can always follow me and oversee every issue of me.Crane suddenly smiled and added that I had reports made by actual interview materials, which were better than nothing, and was written entirely based on imagination. At least you can explain your views and guide things in the hope.
Rand touched his scalp and replied hesitantly:
All right.
I will follow you all the way.
Thanks!Klein almost couldn't control his emotions.
Afterwards, under Rand's leadership, he entered one office after another and interviewed the workers' association staff according to the preset questions in advance.
There was no harvest in the corridor on the right, there was no harvest in the corridor on the left... Klein stepped on the wooden stairs as usual and came to the second floor.
This time, Rand took him into the office opposite the stairs and introduced to the person inside:
This is a reporter from the Beckland Daily, Mr. Statham.
He wants to do some interviews with you, but I must remind you in advance that you have the right to refuse to answer some questions.
Klein smiled and took two steps forward, making a gesture of shaking hands with the office staff one by one.
At this moment, he saw a slightly familiar figure.
Although the other party's skin turned bronze, his ordinary round face became angular, and his glasses were also changed from round frames to long gold-edged frames, Klein still found a trace of inexplicable familiarity with the spiritual intuition of the diviner.
Immediately afterwards, his body trembled and the smile on his face almost lost control.
No, sorry, I suddenly had a stomachache. Where is the bathroom?Crane asked with a embarrassed smile as she covered her abdomen with no pen and sticky notes.
Rand and the staff in the office did not doubt it and pointed at the outsider:
Go out, turn left, and walk to the end and you can see the sign.
Klein smiled and stepped back, left the door, and rushed straight to the bathroom.
After entering, he picked the toilet lattice near the window, sat on the toilet, and locked the wooden door.
He bent down his back, his mouth widened, and he laughed silently, laughing so hard that he couldn't straighten his waist, and a drop of crystal liquid fell to the ground.
Klein has confirmed that it is Ranrus!
This was not based on the little sense of familiarity, but rather that he noticed another breath in the other party, which impressed him to the extreme!
And this is also the main reason why he almost lost control on the spot just now.
His body trembles come from instinctive fear and fear!
His emotional collapse comes from the thriller and sadness deep in his memory!
That's
That's...
That is the breath of the real Creator!
…………
Klein washed his face and continued the interview without anything happening. Even when facing the Lanceus who had changed so much for some reason, he asked questions step by step and recorded the answers.
Doing all this, he said goodbye and left the dockworkers' association and walked out of the house with poor lighting and slightly dim light.
The clouds were covered with mist outside, as if it was early to enter the evening.
The breath of the real Creator can only come from Himself, His descendants, and things that extend on this basis, such as the objects He gave, such as His divinity... This is very consistent with the words Ramèus said to Hud Oggen, and coupled with the inexplicable sense of familiarity, I can't confirm that it is Him... If I had not had dealt with the real Creator several times and had frequent contact with his spiritual pollution, I could not recognize that the aura that did not contain power or person belonged to Him... Klein was in a very serious mood, but he looked very relaxed.
He stood on the street and deliberately sorted out the interview note.
During this process, he saw a familiar figure among the homeless man opposite him.
Ms. Hugh?Klein made a guess instantly based on the incident.
He did not stop, packed the notes and headed towards the station of the public carriage.
At this moment, a carriage suddenly stopped in front of him.
We met again.Sitting in the carriage was a thin but elegant middle-aged and elderly gentleman. His temples were gray and elegant. He was the detective who could assist the police in investigating the case, Aisinger Stanton.
And Klein's appearance at this time is not much different from usual, he is just a little taller and has changed his clothes.
What a coincidence, I was thinking about the last interview with you.Klein answered this on purpose.
Aisinger understood it immediately and changed the topic with a smile:
I came here to investigate the case. Shibel's death case was removed and I was mainly responsible for it. Her death was very close to Dongbailang Dock.
Is it really an imitation crime?Klein pretended to know.
After a few greetings, he got on a railroad bus and did not go home directly, and turned to the Kragg Club in the Hillston District.
In the club's lounge, he quickly went to the gray fog and confirmed that no one was following him.
At this point, Klein completely relaxed and felt scared.
The breath of the real Creator was like a nightmare, lingering in his mind, making his back-fitting clothes dry and wet, wet and dry.
To ensure that, Klein showed a yellow-brown parchment paper and a crimson round-bellied pen in front of him, and then wrote the divination sentence that had been considered long ago:
The source of the previously inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Putting down the pen and leaning against the back of the chair, he entered the dream while silently reciting.
In that gray and illusory world, he saw a figure.
The figure is ordinary in facial features, wearing round-frame glasses, and always has a look down and sarcastic smile. It is Lanerus!
Finally found you!Klein no longer used the clown's ability to control his expression and gritted his teeth and said to himself.
Immediately, he sat upright, ready to respond to Miss Justice’s prayer.
Klein controlled his emotions and spoke in a low and indifferent voice:
No confirmation is required.
That's Lahlus.
You can inform the Church of the Goddess of the Night and tell them that Lanceus has the divine nature of the ‘fallen Creator’.
…………
Audrey, who was watching her father trained a hound with Susie, was stunned for a moment after hearing Mr. Fool's response.
The Falling Creator...Isn't this the real Creator?
That fraudster actually has the divine nature of the real Creator?
This, this, is a simple task that actually involves the divinity of the real Creator!
Sure enough, I said that Mr. Fool also has a deep purpose...He is targeting the real Creator... He is worthy of being Mr. Fool!
Audrey instantly had many ideas.
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