James Bennett ignored him and busied himself, barely touching the ground. In the middle of it all, he took a moment to contact an administrative assistant downstairs to give some instructions, then answered a call and left the office. Before leaving, he unceremoniously dumped all the case files from the past five years in a bundle and sent them to William Carter.

This was probably the initial task assigned to every intern—organizing case files. William Carter had assigned this job to others before, so he was certainly no stranger to it. To be honest, this kind of work was tedious, overwhelming, and eye-straining—a real grind.

But William Carter was more than happy to do it. The reason he joined South Cross Law Firm as an intern was precisely for this unavoidable task. This way, he could openly review all the detailed materials related to the “explosion case.”

William Carter’s optical computer had been projecting holographic pages for over an hour, right up until lunchtime. Before the smart folding feature kicked in, the stack of holographic files was tall enough to bury him and his entire desk alive.

In the end, it was another intern, Locke—oh, the blond one—who came to ask if he wanted to eat, and only then did the optical computer finally shut its mouth.

“My god, that much?” Locke exclaimed. “Are all these cases handled by Lawyer Bennett?”

“No idea, I haven’t looked closely yet.” William Carter had the files folded; in an instant, the thick stacks were compressed into a thin, flat surface, no longer so overwhelming.

“Too realistic isn’t always good,” Locke said. “Did they say when you have to finish organizing? Why do you look so happy about it?”

Because he could finally take a look at the specific “cause of his own death.”

Of course, if he said that out loud, Locke would probably be scared, so William Carter considerately made up an excuse: “Because I can finally get something to eat.”

He and Locke ran into a few other interns as they left, and together they found a nearby restaurant next to the law firm.

“Cherish these rare days when you can actually eat well,” the girl named Felicity joked. “Once we get busy, I’ll never need to diet again.”

After she said that, another intern, Anna, looked at William Carter: “Ruan? How come you’re eating even less than the two of us?”

William Carter had a common lawyer’s problem—a bad stomach. It was an annoying issue: not exactly serious, since if his stomach really gave out, he could just get a medical procedure to replace it, and it wouldn’t be life-threatening. But it wasn’t trivial either, since you can’t keep replacing your stomach, and you have to eat every day, so every meal required some care to avoid discomfort.

Recently, William Carter had to be even more careful, since he hadn’t eaten properly for half a year and couldn’t handle much food at once.

But he didn’t like talking about these minor ailments, so he just calmly swallowed his food, took a sip of warm water, and smiled at them: “With all those files waiting for me, I shouldn’t eat too much.”

Or I’ll throw up.

Locke, who was on his second helping, choked on a mouthful of pasta and turned to cough like an idiot.

Halfway through lunch, William Carter suddenly received a message.

It was from the apartment where he lived. The person who saved him had rented that apartment using his fake identity and smart device number, leaving no trace of himself.

The message was very short, just two sentences, but after one glance, William Carter lost his appetite—the apartment notified him that his lease would expire tomorrow, and if he wanted to stay, he’d have to prepay the rent.

Six months at a time.

“……”

For the first time in years, Professor Carter was so worried about money that he felt sick before even looking at the case files.

The message also said there would be a call later for a voice confirmation.

Five minutes later, William Carter suddenly received a call from an unfamiliar number. It had to be from the apartment.

He answered with a smile: “Sorry, I won’t be renewing the lease.”

No money—how could he rent?

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, and then, without a word, the call was cut off.

“……” William Carter was baffled. Apartment service calls usually didn’t act like this, did they???

Chapter 5 Business Trip (Part 1)

“What’s up? Lease expired?” Locke struggled to swallow his last forkful of pasta and mumbled, “No wonder you looked unfamiliar this morning—I guess you’re not on campus much?”

William Carter nodded. “I’m really not around much.”

Meiz University had a Hall of Fame. As a top, long-established school, it naturally boasted a host of illustrious alumni. Having your name entered into the Hall of Fame and written into the school’s history was a tremendous honor in itself.

William Carter’s photo had been placed in the Law School’s Hall of Fame years ago, surrounded by a group of middle-aged and elderly friends—a unique and striking sight. Without a doubt, he was the youngest person in the entire Hall of Fame…

And also the one who died the earliest.

Now, that photo had probably been moved to the “Deceased Hall of Fame” for people to pay their respects.

He couldn’t dwell on this—if he did, his stomach would hurt.

In short, as a member of the Hall of Fame, his life was colorful and extremely busy. Although he held the title of “Dean” and had a spacious office he could arrange however he liked, he actually didn’t spend much time on the Meiz University campus.