He couldn’t tell for a moment whether what his eyes saw was fake, or whether the reflection in the mirror was fake. His chest turned cold in an instant, and even his breathing began to tremble.

Then, he saw that skeleton turn its head, its gaze meeting his in the reflection of the glass. Charles Gray saw that in the two hollow eye sockets of the skull, there seemed to be a person.

That person was draped in a cloak, shrouded in a layer of black mist from head to toe, holding something in their hand...

Before he could see clearly what that person was holding, he heard a man’s voice from downstairs say, “Hey, student, what are you doing climbing the wall?”

This sudden shout startled the already tense Charles Gray so much that he jumped. There happened to be some moss on the windowsill, making it dangerously slippery. His foot slipped, and he tragically succumbed to gravity.

Logan Sullivan quickly lunged forward, trying to grab him, but instead of catching the person, he grabbed a handful of Charles Gray’s cap-like hair. Charles Gray immediately let out a howl, and Logan Sullivan’s hand shook, letting him fall.

The black cat stood on the windowsill, flicked its tail, and meowed, “Meow—”

“Damn,” Chief Sullivan turned around, cursing as he ran downstairs, “What a troublemaker.”

Fortunately, the man below was kind enough to catch Charles Gray, preventing him from landing face-first on the ground.

The man was tall and slender, wearing a neatly pressed long-sleeved white shirt and tailored dress pants even in the height of summer. A pair of rimless glasses rested on his straight nose, and he held a lesson plan in his hand. He looked refined and clean, exuding a strong scholarly aura.

He asked Charles Gray, “Are you alright, student? That was dangerous.”

Charles Gray didn’t have time to answer. He quickly turned to look at the second-floor windowsill, but it was still empty—nothing there.

It was as if the skeleton hanging outside the window and the black-robed figure in its eyes had all been his imagination. Charles Gray finally plopped down on the ground—his legs had gone weak.

“Did you twist your ankle? Be careful.” The man with glasses bent down slightly and patiently said to him, “Also, climbing buildings is forbidden on campus. If you get caught, you’ll lose points from your overall grade.”

Charles Gray hung his head, feeling like he was born to be a loser. In this world, maybe the only thing he was good for was mooching off others—on his very first day at work, he was already on the verge of a breakdown.

Logan Sullivan hurried downstairs, grabbed Charles Gray by the back of his collar like a chick, and set him upright on the ground.

Even though he didn’t want to ruin his well-crafted image, he really wanted to take off his shoe and smack this idiotic intern in the face a couple of times.

So he forced himself to turn away, out of sight, out of mind.

“Hello,” he extended his hand to the man with glasses, “My surname is Zhao. We’re with the police. May I ask your name, sir?”

For a split second, something flashed across the man’s face—an expression of shock, perhaps, but it vanished so quickly that one might think it was just their imagination. He then lowered his eyes and politely shook hands with Logan Sullivan: “My surname is Shen, William Sherman. I teach at this university. Sorry, I thought he was a student staying on campus for the summer.”

William Sherman’s hand was icy cold, like a corpse just pulled from a freezer. Logan Sullivan was taken aback at the touch and couldn’t help but look up at him, meeting William Sherman’s gaze behind the glasses.

Although William Sherman quickly looked away, Logan Sullivan couldn’t shake the feeling that his look was a bit strange... hard to describe, but it wasn’t the look one gives a stranger.

As a criminal investigator—even a somewhat atypical one—he had to have a basic skill: the ability to recognize people.

In this line of work, face blindness is a huge liability. Anyone you’ve met, even in passing, you need to be able to recall if necessary.

So Logan Sullivan was sure he’d never seen this man before.

Just then, the big black cat, for some reason, swaggered over, climbed right to William Sherman’s feet, sniffed carefully, circled him a few times, and finally let out a soft, affectionate meow.

This cat usually acted lazy and aloof, always looking down on the foolish humans of Earth with a haughty attitude—never had it behaved so... cat-like.

Logan Sullivan was stunned for a moment, watching as the black cat shamelessly rubbed against William Sherman’s pant leg, then even looked up ingratiatingly, reaching its comically short front paws toward William Sherman’s knee, as if begging to be picked up.

William Sherman bent down and picked it up. The black cat didn’t mind his cold hands at all; instead, it let out a soft “meow,” curled up obediently into a ball in his arms, its emerald eyes meeting the man’s gaze behind the glasses.

Logan Sullivan had the illusion that the two of them were sizing each other up.

After a while, William Sherman reluctantly handed the cat back to Logan Sullivan, stroking its head: “This cat is very spiritual. Does it have a name?”

“Of course, it’s called Darrin Grant,” Logan Sullivan replied casually. “Nickname: Fatty. Alias: Dead Fatty.”

The black cat let out a yowl, snapped out of its dreamy pet mode, puffed up, and swiped its claws at Logan Sullivan.

“Oh, it even scratches people.” William Sherman chuckled, intercepted its paw, shook it gently, and the cat’s claws retracted obediently, letting William Sherman pet its head.

William Sherman asked, “I heard something happened at the university this morning. So, have you confirmed that the deceased was from our school?”

Under his boss’s gaze, Charles Gray braced himself, took out a file folder, pulled out a photo of a female student and a student ID, and nervously handed them to William Sherman, stammering, “Professor... Professor Shen, h-hello, could you please take a look? Do you recognize this person?”

Chapter 4: The Reincarnation Sundial (Three) …

In fact, the old campus of Longcheng University was built back in the Republican era, and it’s now over a hundred years old. The campus is filled with ancient trees, their canopies almost blocking out the sky, and the old teaching buildings hidden among them are in that unique Western style typical of the old foreign concessions—making them look aged and unapproachable.

Only the office buildings near the west gate are newly built in recent years. They’re much taller, standing out among the old buildings like a sore thumb, disrupting the entire campus’s atmosphere.

William Sherman said he didn’t recognize the student, and offered to take them to the college office to ask around.

But the brand-new college office building made Logan Sullivan’s eyelid twitch—it had eighteen floors, and he didn’t even need to count to know.

In the past, some real estate developers would avoid building residential buildings with eighteen floors, but as housing prices soared and more developers entered the market, everyone wanted a piece of the pie. With height restrictions in many places, they built as high as possible to maximize profits, and old “superstitious” taboos like this gradually faded away.

Only those in the know could spot the problem at a glance.

Maybe it was the air conditioning, but as soon as they entered the college office building, a chilly wind hit them. The Darrin Grant cat on Logan Sullivan’s shoulder shivered, its sharp claws digging into his shirt.

“The student ID says Mathematics Department. The office is on the top floor.” William Sherman led them into the elevator and pressed the button.

Logan Sullivan suddenly asked, “Professor Shen, aren’t you curious about what’s going on? Most people would ask a few more questions.”

William Sherman lowered his head slightly and said softly, “The dead deserve respect. I’ll help you investigate as much as I can. The rest is for you to know. Whether I know or not doesn’t matter.”

Logan Sullivan placed his hand on the black cat’s back, absentmindedly stroking its fur. “There aren’t many good citizens as helpful as you, Professor Shen. My Darrin Grant never likes people, but seems to get along with you.”

William Sherman smiled gently. “It’s the least I can do.”

Logan Sullivan fell silent for a moment, his gaze flickering. He felt that there was something off about William Sherman. Aside from that first accidental eye contact, Professor Sherman seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze.

The elevator reached the fourth floor, then suddenly jolted and stopped without warning. The light above flickered a couple of times. Charles Gray looked up at Logan Sullivan in alarm, but the man, whether out of nerves or something else, didn’t even blink—he was still thoughtfully studying William Sherman.