He couldn’t find the right words, so he gestured awkwardly. Logan Sullivan understood at a glance—it meant endless conflict. Logan Sullivan nodded approvingly at Sally Shaw, turned, and walked out. Suddenly, a new line of thought opened up for him.

In the primordial chaos, the gods waged ceaseless wars. Yan and Huang defeated Chiyou, establishing a new order. As the human population grew, among the little clay figures brought to life by Nuwa’s breath, something called “power” emerged. No matter who it was, if someone toppled Buzhou Mountain, could it be that they intended to break this order, create a new one, and return everything to that… original, flourishing state of all things?

Logan Sullivan thought of his dream. Who was the person speaking to him in that dream? What did they mean?

Carter Shaw hadn’t come alone; he brought a little tagalong—Charles Gray, bundled up like a cotton ball, with at least two scarves wrapped around his neck, covering half his face, making himself look like a Ninja Turtle of the new era. One of the scarves was clearly not his.

It was said that after Carter Shaw vanished into thin air, Charles Gray walked toward his own home for five minutes, but before he could hail a cab, he changed his mind. He felt too guilty to let down Darrin Grant’s trust on the first day of the new year, so he turned back to that little alley, searching all the way, nervously asking people for directions in a stammer.

His expression was so constipated, his speech so disjointed, he looked just like a foreigner practicing spoken Chinese.

After searching in the biting wind for over half an hour, Charles Gray, nose red from the cold, was finally found by a kind community service auntie, who kindly brought him to Carter Shaw’s door.

After the auntie left, Charles Gray didn’t dare knock. He circled around Carter Shaw’s door several times, hearing no sound from inside. He wanted to leave but felt uneasy, wanted to knock but remembered Carter Shaw’s annoyed face from earlier, so he didn’t dare. Only when Carter Shaw received the Soulbound Order summons and was about to leave for 4 Guangming Road did he discover the frozen kid squatting at his door, and had no choice but to bring him along.

The atmosphere in the office was tense. Carter Shaw sat at the desk, one hand in his pocket, the other idly playing with Logan Sullivan’s lighter, eyes fixed on the table, his expression cold and severe. Darrin Grant paced back and forth in silence. In the entire Criminal Investigation Division, the only sounds were Charles Gray sniffling and blowing his nose.

When Logan Sullivan hurried out from the wall with a book under his arm, Carter Shaw finally looked up slightly. “Why did you call me here?”

Logan Sullivan sat across from him, studied Carter Shaw’s expression, and asked bluntly, “Let’s skip the nonsense. I have one question for you: are you planning to leave?”

Carter Shaw lowered his eyelids and said nothing.

Logan Sullivan said coldly, “Take your hand out of your pocket. Don’t think I can’t smell that stinking thing!”

Carter Shaw gave a mocking laugh and pulled his hand out. In his palm was a small piece of bone, its tip glowing with a faint blue light. The bone was hollow, with four holes on it, called Bone Horn, a tool used to control zombies and the undead. Because desecrating the dead is a grave matter, Bone Horn has always been considered an evil art.

Charles Gray sneezed on the side. Carter Shaw shot him a sideways glance and said slowly, “I think you should have someone take this unlucky kid home first…”

Logan Sullivan ignored him and turned to Charles Gray: “Xiao Guo, sit down—Darrin Grant, tell the kitchen to bring him a bowl of Banlangen.”

“Tell me what you’re planning to do,” Logan Sullivan pressed, “Are you going to take that stinking thing and go back underground to be your Corpse King? Wear the Shackles of Merit for life, never see daylight, and hide from the underworld forever?”

Carter Shaw’s expression turned cold as well. “Three hundred years ago, I was arrogant and didn’t know the rules. Since I made a mistake, I’ll bear the consequences. These three hundred years, I accept them—I’m not wronged. Otherwise, could a few measly underworld officers do anything to me? They better not push their luck!”

“Delays with the Shackles of Merit are routine. Why can others endure it, but you, Carter Shaw, can’t?”

Carter Shaw lowered his voice and said, word by word, “I am not other people. Logan Sullivan, remember this: I wear the Shackles of Merit because I want to, as a courtesy to them, not because I’m groveling and admitting my fault…”

Logan Sullivan cut him off sharply, “You still have the nerve to talk about that mess you made?”

Carter Shaw slammed the table. “I said it, so what? I really don’t regret it. If I could go back, I’d still skin that brat alive, even if it meant another three hundred years in prison! What’s all this about adults and children, merits and faults? In my eyes, there are only two kinds of people: those I can kill, and those I can’t. Besides, Director Sullivan, I’m not the one looking for trouble now—someone’s forcing me. If I’m so irredeemable, and three hundred years can’t atone for my sins, then what’s one more crime? I’ll bear it all. I just hope in the future, everyone keeps an eye on their kids, so a single blow of the Bone Horn doesn’t scatter their souls and turn them into little ghosts.”

Before he finished, Logan Sullivan raised his hand and slapped him—fast, precise, crisp, and loud, knocking Carter Shaw’s face to the side.

Carter Shaw didn’t react, but Charles Gray jerked back in alarm and fell off his chair, landing hard on the floor.

The two in the room glared at each other, neither backing down. Darrin Grant let out a low meow; for a moment, it seemed like the two might come to blows.

At that moment, a swirl of gray mist slipped in through the window, bumped into Logan Sullivan’s shoulder, rolled down his arm, and turned into a letter in his arms.

Logan Sullivan looked down—it was a note hastily written by William Sherman: “The underworld officer is already on the way. No matter what he asks you to do, don’t agree. Wait for me to come home—William.”

Chapter 70 Virtue Quill …

Logan Sullivan read the note without a change in expression, his cold face softening just a little. Then, with rare care, he folded it neatly and tucked it into his wallet, as if he were putting away a love letter.

Carter Shaw glanced at him and stood up to leave, but before he could turn around, three Soulbound Order flew from Logan Sullivan’s hand, trailing a shower of sparks, shooting straight up into the air. Charles Gray hadn’t even gotten up from the floor before the Soulbound Order burned into a chain and slammed down on Carter Shaw.

A powerful force pinned Carter Shaw back into his chair, leaving him unable to move.

The contract between Carter Shaw and the Soulbound Order hadn’t been broken. No matter how great his abilities, he was still bound by it.

Logan Sullivan glanced at him, pulled a recorder from the drawer, and hit play. It was Carter Shaw’s last words: “I just hope in the future, everyone keeps an eye on their kids, so a single blow of the Bone Horn doesn’t scatter their souls and turn them into little ghosts.”

Coming from the machine, the man’s voice sounded even colder and more chilling, with a rasp that seemed to scrape against bone.

“Do you think that’s something a human would say?” Logan Sullivan asked expressionlessly.

Carter Shaw’s gaze flickered, but the next moment, he stubbornly turned his head and said stiffly, “I was never human to begin with.”

Charles Gray stammered, “Chu—Chu-ge, don’t say things out of anger.”

Carter Shaw shot him a cold glance and said nothing.

Charles Gray hesitated for a long time before cautiously edging over, gently tugging at his sleeve, and buzzing like a mosquito, “I—I don’t think you really mean that. I didn’t understand everything, but Chu-ge is a good person. He wouldn’t do bad things for no reason…”

Logan Sullivan snorted, leaned heavily back in his chair, tapped the lighter on the table a couple of times, lit a cigarette, and looked at Carter Shaw with annoyance. “Do you even understand what it means to let the blame fall where it should, to keep things separate? All you do when you’re mad is act tough. You’re not even as sensible as Xiao Guo, a kid. I’m embarrassed for you.”

Carter Shaw glared at him with pitch-black eyes.

“What are you looking at? Not ashamed? I don’t have time to deal with you right now—Xiao Guo, push him to my office, lock the door, and keep an eye on him. There’s a lounge inside with a single bed. If you get tired, you can lie down.”

Charles Gray immediately asked kindly, “What about Chu-ge?”

“Him?” Logan Sullivan shot Carter Shaw a sidelong glance. “Let him sit there. He can meditate and take a good nap.”

He picked up his teacup, swirled the now-cold tea leaves inside, still annoyed, and added, “I almost want to splash it in your face.”

Charles Gray pushed Carter Shaw’s swivel chair to the office door, then couldn’t help but look back at Logan Sullivan. Seeing the boss wave him on, he finally pushed Carter Shaw into the director’s office and gently closed the door from inside.