Chapter 137: Unable to Speak

Chapter 137: Unable to Speak

Oravi Medical Relief Foundation.

The woman responsible for volunteer registration hurriedly bent down and fumbled in panic for the fountain pen that had fallen to the floor. At that moment, Klein also noticed that what she had been reading earlier was an issue of News Report from a few days ago—the one containing his portrait and deeds.

This place subscribes to newspapers from the Rorsted Archipelago too? Counting the time needed for ships to arrive, they really can only read news three or four days old… If I had known, I would have reshaped my face and come with a fake name… Klein stood before the office desk, thinking somewhat helplessly.

The woman in her thirties finally picked up the fountain pen. Lifting her face, she asked in a trembling voice, “You, you want to be a volunteer?”

“Yes,” Klein replied affirmatively.

“But—but you are an adventurer.” The badly frightened woman stammered and found an excuse.

Instinctively, she did not want such an extremely dangerous fellow to become a volunteer.

Being famous is not necessarily a good thing… Forget it. I will change my face, clothes, and name later, then come again… Klein had already given up inwardly, but outwardly he displayed no emotion as he asked in return, “Who says adventurers cannot be volunteers?”

The woman in charge of registration wore an expression as though she were about to cry. She blurted out, “Not me!”

The volunteer registration room instantly became abnormally quiet. Klein was first stunned, then almost laughed, and only with difficulty managed to maintain Gehrman Sparrow’s image.

The woman calmed herself slightly and realized that there was an obvious problem with her answer. Forcing out a smile, she said, “No, what I mean is, no one says so.

“It is just that in my impression, adventurers are all very busy and often need to go out to sea. They rarely have time to volunteer.”

“That is them,” Klein replied concisely.

The woman lifted a hand to cover her mouth briefly, then forced out another smile.

“Alright. I will register you immediately.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a form and handed it over.

“Fill this in. We will provide corresponding training and volunteer posts according to your request.

“We will contact you proactively, or you may come by and inquire yourself.”

Inwardly, she had already made up her mind not to put Gehrman Sparrow’s form into the archives, but to hand it directly to the foundation’s director—and to the police station.

Goddess, why would such a dangerous person run here to volunteer? She silently drew a crimson moon over her chest.

Klein nodded soundlessly, accepted the form, sat down, picked up the fountain pen, and began swiftly filling in the basic information.

During the process, a man wearing a doctor’s white coat entered and asked, “Juana, are there any new volunteers? We are about to begin this morning’s training.”

Juana, the registrar, wanted very much to shake her head, but Gehrman Sparrow sitting before her gave her an extremely strong sense of urgency even though he neither spoke nor lifted his head. It made her afraid to lie.

“Yes,” she first answered the man in the white coat. Then she looked at Klein. “Mr. Sparrow, would you like to receive basic volunteer training now, or tomorrow?”

Klein thought for a moment.

“Now.”

He planned to become familiar with it, so that when he changed identities to volunteer later, he could weave in the necessary professionalism. That way, he could quickly begin helping at the hospital.

Juana visibly inhaled and said, “Then after you finish filling out the form, follow Mr. Graya.”

“Alright.” Klein answered calmly.

Half an hour later, the calm and polite yet secretly mad adventurer, Gehrman Sparrow, looked at the exceptionally filthy toilet in front of him, held his breath, and said, “Scrub it?”

“Yes. You have already received simple patient-lifting training, but this is not what we do most often at hospitals. We are mainly…