His life was already gone; he had nothing left to gain, and nothing left to lose. His soul was forever trapped in the moment he died beneath the wheels, already lost to obsession.

Logan Sullivan frowned, feeling that this matter was difficult to handle—he just picked up a few fruits by the roadside and put them in his pocket, does that mean he deserved to die? Even if someone stole a wallet, at most they'd be sent to a detention center if caught, certainly not executed on the spot. Clearly, it wasn't a crime deserving death, right?

But because these people were greedy for petty gains, they ended up causing the death of an honest man who was simply looking forward to going home for the New Year. Shouldn't he hate them? Shouldn't he seek revenge? Who, in his place, could just laugh it off and let go, moving on to reincarnation?

That does seem reasonable.

So, the resourceful Logan Sullivan quickly came up with a brilliant idea. He planned to first send Adam Warren back to the underworld. According to precedent, Adam Warren could appeal his case before the Ten Yama Kings. If, after hearing him out, the Kings also agreed that his revenge was justified, they would issue him a pass. At that point, he could do whatever he wanted in the human world, seek revenge on whomever he wished, and it would have nothing to do with the Soulbound Order. Whatever happened would be their responsibility.

But just as he was about to voice this win-win solution, William Sherman suddenly interjected.

William Sherman said slowly, “Those who take without asking are thieves, whether it’s gold and silver or just a few fruits—it’s all the same. Not to mention that someone lost their life because of it. I do think it should be treated as ‘murder for gain,’ so your revenge is justified.”

As soon as these words left his mouth, Logan Sullivan had no time to stop him. The words caught in the throat of the usually slick Director Sullivan, nearly choking him half to death.

As soon as William Sherman finished speaking, Adam Warren realized that the force that had been subtly restraining him disappeared.

Others might not understand, but Logan Sullivan knew perfectly well. Even though that person appeared as William Sherman, he was, after all, the true Soulwarden. Since ancient times, there was first the Soulcleaver to right wrongs, and only then the Ten Yama Kings to judge merits and faults.

In other words, the authority of the Soulwarden was extremely high. His verdict could not be overturned, not even by the Yama Kings. Now that William Sherman had spoken these words in the interrogation room, it was equivalent to directly granting the “pass” to Adam Warren.

“But revenge only breeds more revenge, and it will never end. If you let them go now, perhaps one day the consequences will catch up to them… or maybe they won’t live long enough, and it will come in the next life. But you were originally just a human soul, and because of excessive resentment, you lost yourself to obsession, even committing the heinous act of killing your wife and child. Even if you’re allowed to take revenge now, after this, you might be imprisoned in the eighteenth level of hell. Hurting your enemies ten thousand times, but losing eight thousand yourself—do you have no regrets?”

Aside from Logan Sullivan, who knew the inside story, Adam Warren realized more than anyone else in the room that William Sherman was different. He carefully observed William Sherman, then nodded solemnly and replied crisply, “No regrets.”

William Sherman turned back and asked Logan Sullivan with feigned politeness, “What do you think, how should we proceed?”

You’ve already handled everything, so what’s the point of asking… Logan Sullivan glared at him, then coughed lightly and had to cover for him. He pulled a Soulbound Order from his pocket, slapped it on the interrogation table, and pushed it in front of Adam Warren: “Wait here for now. Before dawn, a messenger from the underworld will come for you. Show this to him, and have him take you to the Yama Kings to get a pass.”

Adam Warren moved his lips, and after a while, slowly leaned forward and took the Soulbound Order with both hands.

“One last reminder,” Logan Sullivan said as a matter of procedure, “He’s right. With the pass, you may get your revenge for now, but you’ll face much harsher punishment afterward. Think carefully before you act.”

Adam Warren stared blankly at the Soulbound Order in his hands, then shook his head. “No need to remind me. I’ve already killed more than ten people; there’s no turning back for me.”

At this, he gave a bitter smile. “I never thought that even after death, there would still be a place for reason. I suppose I should thank you.”

Everyone present changed expression at his words. Holly Harlow immediately asked, “Wait, you said you’ve already killed more than ten people? Was it all by the same method? Are they all dead?”

Adam Warren: “Of course they’re dead, and in terrible ways too. After death, they’ll never be reincarnated.”

Holly Harlow glanced at Logan Sullivan in shock and doubt—because of the growing population and increasingly noisy environment, vengeful spirits causing trouble and illegal killings were not uncommon. If it was just one or two, it was normal not to sense it. But once the number increased and the accumulated evil grew, not only the Soulbound Order, but even some minor sects in the same city with a bit of cultivation could sense the overwhelming dark energy.

But there was nothing—until Adam Warren confessed, none of them knew he had already claimed more than ten souls—not even William Sherman!

William Sherman immediately thought of the “Virtue Quill” and asked, “Did you use some method… to alter your karmic merit?”

“I did.” Adam Warren admitted frankly. “At that time, I had just poisoned my wife and son, and was about to go after my first target. Someone approached me and said he wanted to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“He said that if I kept killing recklessly, I’d soon attract the attention of the law enforcers in the human world. So he sold me a talisman, told me to wear it around my neck, and said you wouldn’t be able to sense me. But he wanted the souls of the people I killed,” Adam Warren said straightforwardly. “I thought, those things are useless to me anyway. I’m already dead, nothing left for others to covet, so I agreed. And he didn’t lie—no one bothered me after that. Most of those people thought they had some strange illness and died in the hospital, who would have thought someone could actually call the police for a stomachache.”

Logan Sullivan pressed, “Did you see what was written or drawn on the talisman?”

“I did.” Adam Warren said. “It had my name and birth date written on it, first in black ink, then traced over with cinnabar, and the characters were circled in red.”

As he spoke, he reached up and pulled out a small yellow paper talisman, folded into an octagon, from around his neck. “This one. You can take a look.”

Carter Shaw took it and opened it. Sure enough, there was a line of characters circled in red, but before he could see clearly, the yellow talisman self-ignited and turned into a small pile of ashes.

It was just a hurried glance, so William Sherman found it hard to judge whose handwriting it was. But from Adam Warren’s description, it was almost certainly the Virtue Quill: black ink for demerit, red ink for merit, one on the left, one on the right—whether you were extremely good or evil, loyal or treacherous, with a single stroke, everything could be wiped clean.

Legend has it that the shaft of the Virtue Quill was carved from the root of a tree that grew in the underworld. The wood was incredibly hard, impossible to cut with steel, yet the tree had no branches, leaves, flowers, or fruit. For some reason, it was called the “Virtue Tree,” a name passed down from ancient times, its origins now lost.

But William Sherman thought, perhaps the name was meant to mock the so-called karmic merit of the three realms—doing good for merit, avoiding evil for retribution. Once merit is born, the true heart is dead, and pure goodness is gone.

Logan Sullivan asked, “What did that person look like? Where did you see him?”

The question made Adam Warren pause. “He looked… pretty ordinary, I guess. Strangely, now that you ask, I can’t really remember. It was…”

He trailed off, suddenly pinching the space between his eyebrows, as if he also found it odd. “I really can’t recall exactly where, but it should have been near my home. I live in Ximei Village, twenty li west of the city. If you want to look, you can check there.”

William Sherman stood up and nodded to him. “Thank you.”

Adam Warren replied calmly, “I should be the one thanking you. I have nothing to hide about killing for revenge, nothing I can’t say. If you want to know anything, just ask.”

William Sherman and Logan Sullivan exchanged a glance, then William Sherman was the first to leave the interrogation room.

Logan Sullivan patted Julian West on the shoulder and said quietly, “Call the underworld messenger, explain the situation, and they’ll know what to do.”

With that, he followed after.

William Sherman was waiting for him at the end of the hallway. Logan Sullivan led him to his own office, closed the door, and finally asked, “So? Do you think it’s that Virtue Quill?”

William Sherman frowned. “I can’t be completely sure, but it’s very likely. Even if it’s a fake, whoever made it must know the The Four Saints inside out.”

“Hmm.” Logan Sullivan stroked his chin.

“What’s wrong?” William Sherman asked.

Logan Sullivan was just about to speak when suddenly, the shadow of a puppet skeleton flashed past the window outside his office. Logan Sullivan walked over, opened the window, and let the puppet in.