Quinn Barnes could barely stand, stumbling as she collapsed onto the hospital bed with William Sherman's help, her gaze vacant as she looked at Logan Sullivan: "It killed someone, and it will kill me too. I saw it. It won't let me go, will it?"

Logan Sullivan didn't answer. He pulled a small notebook and a pen from his pocket. "Can you describe what 'it' looks like?"

"I didn't see it very clearly, but it... it was human-shaped. When it stood up from the ground, it was... about this tall," Quinn Barnes gestured with her hand, "pitch black, a bit short, so it looked kind of chubby..."

Logan Sullivan paused his writing, frowning as he repeated, "A bit short and chubby?"

Quinn Barnes nodded.

"Is it possible that it wasn't actually short, but that you turned and ran as soon as you saw it, so it hadn't had time to fully stand up yet?" Logan Sullivan asked.

Quinn Barnes was stunned, her reaction even slower than before. Then she lowered her eyes, avoiding Logan Sullivan's gaze, and nodded again. "Maybe... I guess so."

Logan Sullivan's look at her became a bit strange. "And then?"

Quinn Barnes kept her head down. "Then I just ran."

Logan Sullivan said nothing, simply scrutinizing her.

Quinn Barnes's fingers were tightly entwined, her fingertips turning white.

After a while, Logan Sullivan finally let her off the hook. He tore a page from his notebook and wrote down a string of numbers. "If you have any clues, or remember anything, please contact me as soon as possible. My phone is on twenty-four hours. Thank you for today."

With that, he handed the note to Quinn Barnes and stood up.

William Sherman: "I'll walk you out."

"No, no, that's not necessary," Logan Sullivan said. "I'll just go outside for a smoke. You talk to her. I was a bit anxious just now, maybe I scared this student. I'm really sorry."

William Sherman glanced at Quinn Barnes. Quinn Barnes seemed lost in thought, not reacting at all to Logan Sullivan's words.

After Logan Sullivan left with a cigarette in his mouth, William Sherman finally asked Quinn Barnes as gently as possible, "Are you hungry? I can go to the cafeteria and get you something to eat."

As soon as Logan Sullivan left, the pressure he brought seemed to dissipate instantly. Quinn Barnes visibly relaxed, looking utterly drained, and weakly shook her head at the question.

William Sherman asked again, "Then how about I call the school doctor to stay with you for a while? You can rest here, and go back when you feel better, okay?"

Quinn Barnes nodded.

William Sherman took a couple of steps, then remembered something and turned back. "Do you still have money on you? If not, do you want me to give you some to use for now?"

Quinn Barnes heard the kindness in his words and finally managed a strained smile. "Thank you, teacher, but really, there's no need."

William Sherman looked at her and sighed, seeming like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he said tactfully, "Some lies are told on purpose, some are not. The former deceive others, the latter deceive yourself... Either way, it's a sad thing."

Quinn Barnes was taken aback.

William Sherman lowered his eyes. "Forget it, just take care of yourself."

With that, he went to the school clinic's pharmacy, grabbed a small bottle of medicine, and hurried out.

Logan Sullivan was still in the hallway, taking a call.

"I've checked, and actually, the problem isn't on our side this time—it's something from 'over there'," said a woman's voice on the other end, different from Zach Warren's. She drew out her words deliberately, with a hint of teasing. "Last night, when the gates of the underworld opened, more than a dozen registered souls went missing from the records over there. Most of them were newly deceased, not yet past the seventh day, so they're still attached to the mortal world and don't know the rules. That's not a big deal—they can't stir up much trouble. The real problem is, apparently, a starving ghost escaped in the chaos."

Logan Sullivan almost thought he'd misheard. "A what escaped?"

"A starving ghost."

Logan Sullivan immediately lost his temper. The person on the other end was an old subordinate, so he didn't bother to hold back. After making sure no one was around, he lowered his voice and cursed, "What the hell kind of mess is this? How could a starving ghost end up in the human world? Which damn underworld official is slacking off?"

"No matter how tight the security, you can't prevent the occasional jailbreak. Besides, look, 'over there' still hasn't gone paperless. Those cave-dwelling ghosts are still using early twentieth-century management methods. It's just that these starving ghosts have been locked up so long they've gone stupid. If it were me, I could probably break out eight times a day." The woman paused. "Oh, right, someone died this time. 'That one' has sent a calling card—he'll probably come in person. You'd better come back and take a look. I don't dare open his card."

Logan Sullivan frowned. "Got it. I'll head back now. While I'm gone, help me with a few things—The place where the dead body was found faces University Road. There should be surveillance cameras at the intersection. See if you can pull the footage. Also, check on Quinn Barnes, a first-year grad student in the Foreign Languages Department at Blackstone University. And while you're at it, ask 'over there' about that old Sundial with the Wheel of Return engraved on the back—what exactly is it?"

At that moment, he caught sight of William Sherman coming after him out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his voice on the phone, "That's it for now, I have something to do. Hang up, and update me if there's any progress."

With that, Logan Sullivan turned around. In the blink of an eye, he wiped the annoyance from his face, transforming from a rogue into a refined young man, and said warmly and politely, "No need to see me off, Professor Sherman, you're too kind."

Chapter 10 Reincarnation Sundial Nine …

William Sherman handed him the medicine he'd gotten from the school clinic. "I noticed you didn't get your medicine earlier, so I brought it over."

As he spoke, he frowned at the patch of skin scraped off Logan Sullivan's arm. "Be careful when you get back. Don't get the wound wet these next few days, and try not to eat anything spicy or—"

Logan Sullivan stared at him in silence.

William Sherman finally grew uncomfortable under his gaze and stopped. "What is it?"

Logan Sullivan asked out of the blue, "Is Professor Sherman married?"

William Sherman was caught off guard and blurted out, "How could I be..."

Logan Sullivan made a sound of acknowledgment and continued, "Then does Professor Sherman have a girlfriend?"

His gaze was just the right amount of intense, making William Sherman feel that, in this situation, nodding or shaking his head would both be awkward.

Logan Sullivan took the opportunity to take the medicine bottle from his hand, spinning it a few times with a half-smile. "Nothing, just thought that someone as outstanding and considerate as Professor Sherman must be very popular. Sorry for being nosy."

"Don't say that..." William Sherman was a bit flustered.

Logan Sullivan laughed, dimples showing. "Oh, right, can I borrow your phone?"

William Sherman took out his phone, but Logan Sullivan didn't take it. Instead, he gently held William Sherman's hand and, using his hand, brazenly entered his own name and number into the contacts, saved it, and dialed once before hanging up.

"Just leaving a contact," Logan Sullivan said, putting on a serious face. "If you have any leads related to the case, feel free to get in touch."

With that, he tossed the medicine bottle in the air and caught it, then turned and waved at William Sherman. "Thanks a lot. I have something to do, so I'll head off. Once this case is over, I must treat Mr. Sherman to a meal."

This time, he didn't hurry at all. One hand in his pocket, he strolled away, his posture relaxed yet graceful—like a peacock flaunting his colorful tail, seizing every moment to show off his overflowing hormones.

Only after he was gone did the awkwardness fade from William Sherman's youthful face. His gaze was deep and restrained. He looked once more at Logan Sullivan's now barely visible figure, then turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Yet after only a dozen steps, he couldn't help but look back, but the person he wanted to see had already disappeared from view.

In his phone's contacts, the flamboyant "Logan" lay quietly on the screen. Whenever he silently mouthed those two characters, it felt as if a knife was gently rolling through his heart, slicing the softest part until it was raw and bloody—yet finally, his thin lips locked it away where no one else could hear.

William Sherman lifted his fingers, which still carried the faint scent of another person's cologne. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.

He didn't know which brand or type the other man used. It was his first time smelling it, yet somehow, that scent seemed to have haunted his soul for many years.