Carter Shaw briefly explained the not-so-complicated incident in just a few words. Logan Sullivan thought for a moment and said, “Alright then, let’s hurry up tonight and get the report done. I’ll wait for it—once it’s finished, I’ll stamp, scan, and upload it myself. Hopefully, we’ll get a reply tomorrow and won’t have to waste another day.”

Carter Shaw had no objections—after all, he wasn’t the one who’d just poured his heart out.

Later, Zach Warren came downstairs and poured him a glass of honey water. Whatever she brought over, Logan Sullivan didn’t see; he could barely keep his eyes open. He just grabbed a pen and scribbled his signature everywhere, then waved at Zach Warren and the man behind her, who was like a ghostly shadow: “Don’t flaunt your love in front of a miserable single guy—get out of here!”

By the time Carter Shaw and Charles Gray finished the preliminary research report and handed it over for his signature and stamp, Logan Sullivan had already fallen asleep on the desk.

Darrin Grant had to knead his back with its paws to wake him up. Darrin Grant asked, “I forgot to ask you—where’s my super-luxury treehouse cat condo?”

Logan Sullivan, still groggy, muttered, “…You fat bastard, sometimes I really want to kill you and eat your meat.”

With a “whoosh,” Darrin Grant leapt onto his shoulder and roared into his ear, “Meow! You jerk! Where’s my luxury cat condo?! Where’s my luxury cat condo?!”

Logan Sullivan: “……”

He picked up the now-cold water and drank it all in one go, grabbed the fat cat by its short neck, tossed it aside, wiped his face, and felt a bit more awake: “It’s basically settled. If things go quickly, we should be able to move in by next autumn.”

Hearing this, the black cat immediately dropped its arrogant attitude and ingratiatingly rubbed against his hand. “Of course, our boss is so capable. Um… about that treehouse, it’d be best if there were some bird eggs inside…”

Logan Sullivan flicked its big head with his finger and wiped his hand on the desk.

“Stupid cat,” he said coldly, “you shed all over my hand.”

With that, he didn’t wait for Darrin Grant to explode, quickly signed his name, and stood up. “I’m heading out. Thanks for your hard work today, both of you.”

Carter Shaw: “Hey, wait, how did you get here?”

Logan Sullivan: “Took a cab. I’ll just call another one to go back.”

Charles Gray, ever the good-natured one, said, “It’s so late and cold, and you might not be able to get a cab at our gate. How about I give you a ride—ow!”

Carter Shaw stomped hard on his foot under the table, then sprang up with lightning speed, pinned Logan Sullivan to the chair, and, with sleight of hand, fished out his phone from Logan Sullivan’s pocket. “Mr. Sherman should be on break already. I’ll call him to pick you up.”

Logan Sullivan: “……”

This brute must be dying to know who he treats as his personal chauffeur!

He reached out to grab his phone back, but Carter Shaw nimbly dodged and directed Charles Gray: “Hey, hold him down, hold him down—he’s so drunk he can barely stand… And the way he’s looking at you is all wrong. I don’t believe Mr. Sherman hasn’t given in after all this time.”

Logan Sullivan was pinned down by Charles Gray and the ever-troublemaking Darrin Grant… Darrin Grant even dutifully plopped down on his stomach, nearly squashing the boss breathless.

Logan Sullivan: “Come on, I’m begging you, can you not make things worse?”

Carter Shaw raised his eyebrows at him, and just then William Sherman’s voice came through the phone: “Yunlan? What’s wrong?”

He picked up after just one ring—treatment even his own father never gave him. Carter Shaw gestured at Logan Sullivan—Chief Zhao, you’re something else! How is this heartbreak?

Carter Shaw cleared his throat. “Oh, Mr. Sherman, it’s me. Our boss had a bit too much to drink today and is hugging everyone in sight, turning the office upside down. Could you please come and take him home?”

Logan Sullivan grabbed a pen holder and hurled it at Carter Shaw’s head. Carter Shaw dodged, then said into the phone, “No, no, it’s nothing, just that drunk cat throwing things. Mm… okay, we’ll look after him. Please come quickly—Criminal Investigation Division, 2nd floor, No. 4 Guangming Road. See you soon!”

Logan Sullivan pointed at him: “…You bastards.”

Darrin Grant swished its tail. “Yeah, we’re bastards—big guy, what are you gonna do about it?”

Charles Gray, the most innocent accomplice, could only shrink into himself like a shivering mushroom under Chief Zhao’s glare.

Not long after, William Sherman arrived.

He had just raised his hand to knock when the office door was flung open from inside, and someone was tossed out unexpectedly. William Sherman quickly caught him, and Logan Sullivan crashed right into his arms.

Logan Sullivan, barely able to stand, still had plenty of fight left. He pointed at Carter Shaw in the office and said, “You little bastard, just you wait.”

Carter Shaw forced a smile onto his bitter face. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

William Sherman couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time, pressing down Logan Sullivan’s trembling hand. “Alright, alright.”

Whether he was really dizzy or just embarrassed to see him, Logan Sullivan used Carter Shaw as a distraction: “If I don’t deal with you today, you’ll never know how many eyes the Horse King has.”

Then he tried to break free from William Sherman and lunge at him again.

William Sherman sighed, nodded to the people in the room, and said, “Sorry to bother you. I’ll take him home now.”

With that, he wrapped one arm around Logan Sullivan’s waist, grabbed his wrist with the other, and, not letting him flail about, dragged him away.

Darrin Grant stood at the door, watching the two of them leave with a meaningful look, then suddenly said, “I feel a strange sense of being reversed. Our boss is such a shameless guy, he wouldn’t… hmm, comrades, what do you think?”

Carter Shaw gave its fat butt a kick.

Chapter 49: The Merit Brush …

Logan Sullivan’s mood was actually quite complicated.

He really had drunk too much and was unsteady on his feet, but after throwing up and taking a nap earlier, the effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off.

But since Carter Shaw said he was so drunk he didn’t know east from west, he simply went along with it, acting dazed and half-asleep, slumping in the passenger seat like a corpse.

William Sherman had come upstairs to get him, but deliberately left the car running to keep the heater on. Logan Sullivan felt the warmth as soon as he got in.

William Sherman sat down and gently nudged him. “Wake up. Sleep when you get home—it’s easy to catch a cold out here.”

Logan Sullivan played dead.

So he heard the person beside him sigh. Seeing he couldn’t wake him, William Sherman had no choice but to lean over and fasten his seatbelt. The two of them were so close that Logan Sullivan could smell the scent on William Sherman—unlike the coldness he carried as Soulwarden, now he smelled of freshly washed clothes and soap. Soulwarden had shed his fearsome black robe, and underneath, the man was clean and gentle.

Then, William Sherman took out a bottle of mineral water, poured some into a small cup, swirled it twice in his hand, and the cold water instantly gave off a warm white mist. He held the cup to Logan Sullivan’s lips. “Drink a little.”

Logan Sullivan opened his eyes a sliver. In the pitch-black car, it seemed like only William Sherman’s eyes held any light—bright, but not harsh.

Logan Sullivan’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. He leaned in and drank the water from William Sherman’s hand. Then William Sherman pulled out a blanket from under the seat, tucked it snugly around him, turned up the car’s heater, and finally drove off smoothly.

Logan Sullivan leaned back with his eyes closed, but his mind was wide awake… It seemed like it had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of warmth on such a cold night.

Since returning from the snowy mountains half a month ago, he hadn’t contacted William Sherman at all.

But daily, regular pestering and always keeping an eye on the things he liked had almost become a habit for Logan Sullivan. Breaking a habit was bound to be painful, so he’d let himself get a bit decadent under the excuse of the year’s end. Yet, even though people are social animals, too much socializing can be exhausting.

It’s not always about the glitz and glamour—sometimes, that’s when loneliness stands out the most.

He’d never lacked men and women throwing themselves at him. When in a good mood, he’d even enjoy a bit of flirtation to keep his self-esteem up. But ever since he’d cut off contact with William Sherman, Logan Sullivan couldn’t help but compare everyone else to him, and the more he compared, the duller they all seemed—none of them had that deep, bookish air worth savoring, none of them had such striking, picturesque features.

Logan Sullivan felt like he’d turned into a celibate old monk overnight. There was even a time at a dinner party when, to liven things up, they’d paid an agency to bring in a young model he’d always liked, and he couldn’t muster the slightest interest—even though, as Darrin Grant could testify, he’d once shamelessly used that model’s swimsuit photo as his computer wallpaper for a while.