Carter Shaw silently picked up the Darrin Grant cat, reached out to cover its eyes, turned his head away with his usual look of deep suffering and hatred, avoiding the unsightly mess before him.

Just before departure, Holly Harlow somehow found a huge military supply bag, stuffed the doll into it whole, and said to the air, “Sorry to make you stay in Soul Mirror a bit longer, once we get off the plane you can come out again.”

A wisp of white smoke flew out from Logan Sullivan’s watch dial, circled around Holly Harlow, and finally stopped in front of her, revealing the vague figure of a young girl. It seemed that being near Logan Sullivan was not very comfortable for ghosts—Zach Warren looked noticeably more haggard.

“Just pretend I’m airsick.” Zach Warren said in a voice as thin as a thread. Then she glanced at her future body, and in her always misty eyes, there finally appeared an indescribable look of reproach.

Charles Gray didn’t even dare to lift his head.

In the end, the entire team from the Criminal Investigation Division at No. 4 Guangming Road shamelessly tagged along. With nothing better to do, they were determined to see what could possibly mobilize the great Logan Sullivan.

However, along the way, no one dared to provoke Director Sullivan, not even Darrin Grant, who had turned into a cat pendant the size of a fingertip and obediently lay on Holly Harlow’s phone—their boss looked like he was about to hijack a plane.

...Until they ran into William Sherman and his students in the airport waiting hall.

Everyone watched as Logan Sullivan’s face, which had been dark with anger, instantly cleared up like a sky after rain. His cold gaze melted in a flash, and the gloomy aura swirling around him dissipated at once.

Then, without hesitation, he abandoned his colleagues and strode over to the man surrounded by students, putting on an act in this carefully orchestrated encounter: “William Sherman, what a coincidence!”

William Sherman’s eyes flickered. Logan Sullivan couldn’t tell if he was surprised or startled, but after a moment, William Sherman pushed up his glasses and nodded, “Officer Sullivan.”

Holly Harlow looked over and suddenly seemed to understand something.

Among the teachers and students from the ivory tower, Logan Sullivan easily became the one in control of the scene. Before William Sherman could even say a word, these mischievous students had already revealed their exact destination and research assignment to Logan Sullivan in just a few sentences.

Logan Sullivan asked with a smile, “There are more than ten hours of winding mountain roads between the city and Qingxi Village. How are you planning to get there?”

William Sherman immediately realized this guy’s ill intentions, but unfortunately, he had too many teammates like pigs. Just as he was about to speak, the female class monitor in red blurted out, “By coach bus, of course!”

William Sherman: “...”

“There’s only one coach bus a day, leaving at six in the morning. And it doesn’t go exactly to your destination. I know the bus you’re talking about—it goes to a county.” Logan Sullivan saw they’d taken the bait and became even more relaxed.

The class monitor was stunned for a moment. “I checked the map. It looks like we can get off midway and walk the rest of the way. It doesn’t seem far...”

“With your small frames, you could walk for four or five hours.” Logan Sullivan leaned back, glancing at William Sherman out of the corner of his eye. “Plains to the east, mountains to the west. In mountainous areas, what looks close on the map might mean crossing several wild, untamed mountains. I say four or five hours, and that’s if you don’t get lost. Think about it: by the time you get off the bus, it’ll already be night. Walk another four or five hours, and you’ll probably have to camp out in the wild. In this season, it’s colder than you can imagine over there—camping in the snow...”

The students, as expected, broke into a flurry of anxious discussion.

Logan Sullivan noticed William Sherman was watching him with a half-smile, and suddenly felt embarrassed at being caught trying to curry favor. He couldn’t help rubbing his nose and coughed, “Alright, alright, everyone calm down. Here’s the deal: I have a few friends who can help call some cars for you. That way, we can all go together and look out for each other. How does that sound?”

The class monitor hesitated, “That’s... too much trouble for you, isn’t it?”

Logan Sullivan waved his hand, already pulling out his phone, and hooked an arm around William Sherman’s shoulder, winking at her. “No trouble at all. What’s my relationship with your teacher...”

William Sherman turned his face slightly and looked at him coolly, “What relationship?”

Logan Sullivan froze. William Sherman’s gaze was like a hook—if he answered vaguely, he’d be slapping himself in the face; if he answered directly, it would sound shameless. Logan Sullivan thought quickly: “Neighbors! Remember this, everyone: when you’re out and about, distant relatives aren’t as good as close neighbors. If you get along well, neighbors can be even closer than family, right, Mr. Sherman?”

William Sherman gave him a slightly helpless smile, which instantly left the scheming Director Sullivan dazed.

“Thank you,” Logan Sullivan heard him say.

“Thank me for what?” Logan Sullivan stood up and said enthusiastically, “Oh right, you guys haven’t eaten yet at this hour, have you? Wait for me.”

Before William Sherman could stop him, he had already turned and walked away.

A moment later, Logan Sullivan came back carrying several large plastic bags. Fortunately, he hadn’t completely lost his mind—he handed two bags to Charles Gray as he passed by.

Carter Shaw said, “Wow, that’s rare. I thought he’d forgotten about us.”

Julian West recited, as usual, to the fried chicken drumstick, “Amitabha, forgive me, forgive me.”

Then this meat-loving monk couldn’t wait to bite into the drumstick, and even reached for a cup of cola.

The food in Charles Gray’s arms was instantly divided up. While he was still in a daze, someone handed him a hamburger.

Charles Gray turned his head and saw it was Holly Harlow.

Holly Harlow handed him the food without looking at him, her eyes glancing over at Logan Sullivan—no one knew what Logan Sullivan had said, but everyone around him was laughing. No matter where he was, he always seemed to be the center of attention.

“Tha—”

“No need to thank me.” Holly Harlow cut him off, lowered her eyes, glanced sideways, and whispered, “Hey, who’s that guy?”

Charles Gray realized she meant William Sherman: “He’s a professor at Longcheng University. We were able to solve the last case thanks to his help. When Director Sullivan wasn’t around, we even dealt with a starving ghost together. But Director Sullivan said he wouldn’t remember any of that.”

Holly Harlow narrowed her long eyes and muttered, “He’s already a professor? He looks so young... But professors are usually older, right? He must be married with kids by now?”

Charles Gray scratched his head in confusion. “How would I know?”

Holly Harlow shot him a sideways glance, then looked back at Logan Sullivan. She saw that just as William Sherman picked up a chicken nugget, Logan Sullivan immediately tore open a sauce packet and handed it to him. Even from a distance, the look in his eyes was so gentle it seemed it could drip water—completely different from the grumpy, door-slamming boss from that morning.

“Hmm, well, looks like he doesn’t have a family yet.” Holly Harlow observed for a moment and came to this conclusion. “The Grim Reaper may be shameless, but he never goes after married men... Oh my god, my eyes are blind.”

Holly Harlow and Charles Gray watched as Logan Sullivan’s hotline of a phone rang again. He held a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, then, in a flash, snatched a French fry from William Sherman’s hand.

He ate it in two bites, even licking his lips while looking at William Sherman, making William Sherman awkwardly withdraw his now-empty fingers.

The dazed look on Charles Gray’s face slowly turned into shock.

The entire staff of the Special Investigation Bureau had been abandoned by their boss for three and a half hours—Logan Sullivan, under the pretense of “wanting to hear Professor Sherman talk to the students about Qingxi Village,” had switched seats with ulterior motives. Finally, their plane landed in the city closest to their destination with an airport.

As soon as they left the airport, before anyone could really feel the unique chill of this high-altitude place, a row of SUVs parked at the entrance, and a bear-like, middle-aged fat man wrapped in a fur coat got out. The man was holding a sign that said “Director Sullivan” and was craning his neck, looking around.

Logan Sullivan, leading both groups, walked straight over. The fat man looked at him, his expression first hesitant, then breaking into a look of sudden realization and a warm smile as he greeted them enthusiastically: “Director Sullivan! It must be you, right? I could tell you were the leader just by your energy.”

“Hey, what leader.” Logan Sullivan stepped forward, shook his hands, and said, “It’s really hard to get your bearings here at first. Good thing we have you, Brother Langston, or we’d be lost. With you here, we feel much more at ease.”