Logan Reed was clearly more concerned about finding the book. He swallowed nervously and said, "The little girl just now—was she trying to tell us that the book she lost is one that the angel knows about? Brian Carter, do you know of any such book?" After a pause, Logan Reed added, "I know too many books. I've been reading in your library for almost a year, and I've glanced at every single one."

Brian Carter, on the other hand, wasn't in much of a hurry. "I've always been in charge of the new book acquisitions on the third floor, so I definitely know more than you do."

Seeing him like this, Logan Reed broke out in a cold sweat. "So what do we do? It's already the second day."

Brian Carter didn't answer Logan Reed's question. He walked around the pile of black ash. Logan Reed kept muttering to himself, trying to recall what the little girl had said when she appeared, but he couldn't find any decisive clues. Anxiously, he said, "Brian Carter, what are we going to do!"

"Don't panic." Brian Carter squatted in front of the bookshelf's ashes, looked up at Logan Reed, and smiled slightly as the "sunlight" from outside the window shone on his face. "What's more important now is... why did the demon burn this bookshelf?"

Logan Reed was stunned.

There were twenty-three bookshelves. Normally, the demon would have a three-in-twenty-three chance of burning the right book—assuming the angel hadn't found it first.

Logan Reed thought for a moment and explained, "The child's voice said the demon couldn't remember which shelf he hid the book on, so he was probably just burning them at random."

Brian Carter replied casually, "Maybe."

Logan Reed ran his hands through his hair. "We'd better hurry up and find the book. If we can't, we're really doomed. The books I've read recently were all on this shelf and..." He paused, his expression turning grim, "and on this burned shelf. What about you, Brian Carter?"

Brian Carter stood up. "I've read too many books. Every day I have to tidy up the books you all leave in a mess."

Logan Reed looked grave. He glanced at the books on the nearby shelves, then at the ashes on the floor. He seemed like a real lunatic, muttering nonstop, repeating the little girl's words over and over.

In fact, if any normal person encountered such things—witnessing so many supernatural events—it wouldn't be surprising if they were driven mad.

Brian Carter reached into the ashes and scooped up a handful. He glanced at the pacing Logan Reed, and after a moment, suddenly remembered, "I did organize a few bookshelves recently. About three days ago, the director asked me to tidy up the H section shelves."

Logan Reed stopped in his tracks and looked at Brian Carter. "Three days ago? That's so recent—maybe it's here!"

But when the two of them reached the H section shelves, they were dumbfounded.

"There are over twelve thousand books on the H section shelves," Brian Carter estimated.

Logan Reed asked calmly, "What counts as finding the book? If we take out every book from the H section shelves, as long as we pull out the right one, does that count as finding it?"

That was something the game rules hadn't specified. The game only said the angel could get a clue during the day, and the demon could burn books at night. If they directly handed the correct book to Mosaic, they would surely complete the task. But if they simply took the correct book off the shelf, would that also count as success?

Brian Carter hadn't thought of this approach either. He said, "With over twelve thousand books, if we hurry, maybe we can take them all off the shelves within two hours."

So they got to work.

Logan Reed excitedly started pulling books, and Brian Carter also got to work diligently. They split up, each working on one side of the shelves. Time ticked by, and as night fell, Brian Carter had just taken out a Qing dynasty history book. When he tried to grab the next one, he found he simply couldn't remove it from the shelf.

Darkness fell before their eyes. Logan Reed said in terror, "I can't take out any more books."

Brian Carter pressed his lips together. "Me neither."

Feeling their way along the shelves, the two of them made their way back to the service desk and turned on the only lamp that would work.

In the dim, yellowish light, Brian Carter and Logan Reed sat on the floor, leaning against the desk, staring intently in the direction of the H section shelves. At this moment, they couldn't see anything in the darkness, but they knew that within two hours, one of the shelves would be burned. When the flames erupted, they would be able to see everything in the library clearly.

In such tense and oppressive circumstances, time passed excruciatingly slowly—every second felt like a year.

Logan Reed's eyes were bloodshot, like a homeless man who hadn't slept in three days. His lips were cracked, and his hair was dusted with dandruff like snowflakes. Only his hands were exceptionally clean, his nails neatly trimmed, as if to preserve the last bit of his dignity.

The second night lasted from 11:52 p.m. to 1:52 a.m. the next day. The clock on the library wall clicked as the hour hand reached midnight.

"We've known each other for about a year now, haven't we?"

Logan Reed suddenly turned his head, like a startled animal, looking toward any sound at the slightest movement.