No matter how anxious Director Sullivan had been before, now that he stood still to talk to someone, he spoke as if giving a flag-raising speech on a Monday morning—his pace unhurried, his tone measured, neither overly enthusiastic nor the least bit cold.

“Sorry, I have something urgent to take care of and need to leave for a bit. If you need anything, just come find me directly, don’t be shy. We’re all family from now on. Thanks for your hard work coming here today!” Director Sullivan gave Charles Gray an apologetic smile, greeted Old Watson at the reception, and then hurried off.

Old Watson was probably a die-hard fan of Director Sullivan. Even though he’d just listened to a bunch of irrelevant chatter, he was grinning from ear to ear. As he led Charles Gray into the office building, he chattered on, “Our Director Sullivan is young, capable, has a good temper, and never puts on airs with anyone…”

Charles Gray still hadn’t recovered from the terrifying atmosphere of meeting a big boss. He was just starting to calm down, listening absentmindedly.

Because he didn’t dare look anyone in the eye, he didn’t notice at all that the face of his guide, Mr. Old Watson, looked deathly pale under the lights, like peeling paint, with blood-red lips stretched all the way to his ears. As his mouth opened and closed, it was clear he had no tongue inside.

The office building was bustling with people, looking unusually busy.

Only then did Charles Gray slowly start to feel something was off. Logically, if there was something urgent, working overtime in the middle of the night was normal—but did the reception, logistics, and HR all need to work overtime too?

Maybe seeing the confusion on his face, Old Watson explained enthusiastically, “Don’t get the wrong idea, Xiao Guo. Most of the time, you’ll be working day shifts too. As long as there’s no big case, we rarely work late. But it’s July now, and every year there are just a few days when we’re this busy day and night. Don’t worry, you won’t lose out—overtime is paid at triple rate, and the monthly bonus is doubled.”

Charles Gray was even more confused. What did “just a few days of being busy day and night” mean? Did all the criminals have a mid-year summary meeting and experience exchange?

Or was it based on the lunar calendar?

But he was afraid of seeming too dumb, so he didn’t dare ask, just nodded vaguely. “Mm.”

Old Watson continued, “I usually work the night shift. The day shift at the reception is another colleague, so you probably won’t see me much. Actually, I quite like being around young people like you—are you a recent graduate? Which school? What did you study?”

Charles Gray temporarily set aside his confusion and sheepishly confessed his unimpressive academic background, then added in a mosquito-like whisper, “I wasn’t a very good student…”

“Oh, nonsense! You’re a college graduate!” Old Watson waved his hand. “I really like educated young people, because I wasn’t so lucky myself. My family was poor when I was a kid. When I was seven or eight, I studied at a private school in the village for a few years, but the teacher left for better prospects after a while. After all these years, I’ve pretty much forgotten everything I learned—can barely recognize the characters, just enough to read the newspaper.”

What the heck? Private school?

Charles Gray once again didn’t understand, but still didn’t dare ask for fear of seeming stupid.

At that moment, Old Watson said cheerfully, “Oh, here we are!”

Charles Gray looked up and saw the words “Personnel and Logistics” written on the office door—white background, red characters. But the red was off somehow. He couldn’t say exactly how, but after staring at the words for a long time, he suddenly realized—it was the color of dried blood… red tinged with rust!

Old Watson knocked on the door beside him. “Xiao Wang, are you there? I’ve brought the new colleague for onboarding. Sorry to trouble you, could you help us with the paperwork?”

After a moment of silence, a very soft female voice came from inside: “Mm, coming.”

The voice sounded both far away and as if it was floating right by his ear, making Charles Gray instinctively shiver, the back of his neck turning cold.

Old Watson, however, seemed oblivious, chattering on, “Sorry to trouble you, Xiao Guo, for coming over so late. But there’s no other way—our Xiao Wang, like me, can only work the night shift, so onboarding has to be done at this hour…”

Wait a minute…

What does it mean… can “only” work the night shift?

Suddenly, a new wave of cold sweat broke out on Charles Gray’s back. He mustered his courage and nervously glanced at a staff member hurrying by—and instantly felt a chill to his very core.

With just that one glance, he clearly saw a uniformed person float past him—without touching the ground.

He… he… he didn’t even have feet!

The office door in front of him creaked open, the hinges groaning. A young woman in a white dress appeared at the door, her ethereal voice sending goosebumps down his arms: “Did you bring your admission notice and ID card?”

A chill swept out from the open office door. Charles Gray’s heart was pounding in his throat, almost unable to beat. He realized that if he kept pretending to be mute now, he might really be an idiot.

He held his breath and slowly looked up, his gaze sliding over the spotless white dress and landing on the girl’s exposed neck…

A second later, a strangled “gurgle” came from Charles Gray’s throat. His mouth hung open, unable even to scream, his eyes bulging in terror as he stumbled back a step, limbs cold and numb, as if they no longer belonged to him.

He saw… he saw a “red line” around the girl’s neck! Not jewelry, but stitches—tight, neat stitches holding her head and neck together!

A cold hand landed on his shoulder, and Old Watson’s voice sounded in his ear: “Hey, Xiao Guo, what’s wrong?”

Charles Gray spun around, coming face to face with Old Watson’s paper-white face and gaping mouth stretched to his ears.

He’d just been thinking that meeting a boss was scarier than seeing a ghost, and now, sure enough, karma had come for him. Clearly, tonight Charles Gray had gained a lot—not only had he met a boss, he’d also seen a ghost.

So, after a two-second pause, Charles Gray didn’t make a sound—he just fainted.

He fell straight to the ground—yes, and because he didn’t want to seem too dumb, he even skipped the step of rolling his eyes.

His dear uncle really had found him a most unique job.

【Volume One: Reincarnation Sundial】

Chapter 2 Reincarnation Sundial One …

The firefly-like light was no match for the pitch-black night. The young girl’s unsteady footsteps echoed on the uneven, timeworn tiles. Suddenly, something tripped her, and she fell heavily to her knees.

The summer night was as stifling as a steamer. Quinn Barnes gasped for breath, her fingers nervously twisting her clothes.

She could hear her own frantic heartbeat—and someone else’s footsteps.

Only old-fashioned, soft-soled cloth shoes made that “shuffling” sound. Listening closely, the steps were dragging, scraping along the ground as if the person had trouble walking.

Quinn Barnes whipped around, but aside from the insects flitting in the light, there was nothing behind her.

She was delicate and pretty, originally a beautiful girl, but with her hair disheveled and plastered to her face with sweat, her lips as pale as her complexion, she didn’t look very attractive at all.

Slowly, a strange expression appeared on her face—part sneer, part resentment, mixed with an indescribable fear.

“Don’t think you can cling to me…” she suddenly stood up, gritting her teeth. “If I could get rid of you once, I can do it again.”

The footsteps stopped.

Quinn Barnes rolled up her three-quarter sleeves, goosebumps rising on her fair arms. In the stifling midsummer night, it felt as if something invisible was making her cold.

She picked up a brick from the ground. The maggot-like footsteps surged from all directions, but she couldn’t see a thing.

Seeing nothing at all—that was the scariest part.

Quinn Barnes screamed, flailing the brick wildly through the air.

The brick in her hand grew heavier and heavier, the rough surface scraping her palm raw. Exhausted, her vision darkening, she bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Her gaze fell to the ground by chance.

Then, Quinn Barnes’s pupils contracted sharply. She began to tremble violently, the brick falling from her hand and landing on her exposed toes in her sandals, but she seemed not to notice at all. She staggered back two steps, her knees suddenly giving out as she collapsed to the ground.

A shadow… it was a shadow!

The streetlamp was right in front of her, and where the light shone, how could there be such a clear shadow?!