“Bail is not a problem.” James Bennett looked into his eyes and said, “But you must promise me that the next time we meet, you’ll tell me everything, without holding anything back.”

When he stared at someone, he really had a kind of presence that made people unconsciously become honest. If someone like him really became a teacher, students would probably react to him like mice seeing a cat.

Joshua Dale forced himself to hold on for a few seconds, then glanced at him listlessly and sat back down.

It was as if he had exhausted all his strength, sitting there motionless like a statue.

Obviously, although he was no longer cursing or going crazy, he still didn’t believe James Bennett. After quite a while, he finally spoke again, his voice low and mocking: “If you can get me out, I’ll call you grandpa. Get lost, liar.”

The first time you hear someone talk like this, you might feel something. But if you hear it every day, year after year, you really become indifferent.

Liar William Carter and liar James Bennett were both calm as could be, leaving one after the other.

The guard, looking like his hands were itching, stroked his beloved electric baton and said, “You lawyers really are something…” With that, he shook his head and closed the door without ceremony.

In the cramped room, the man who had screamed himself hoarse sat expressionless for a while, then drew his knees up and buried his head, curling his back and not moving again.

Compared to the detention center, the daylight outside was bright and open; seeing it suddenly was almost dazzling.

William Carter shielded his eyes with his hand, pulled out a holographic screen to check the time, “It’s not even 2 o’clock yet. Let’s go to the public security court and—why are you looking at me like that?”

James Bennett stared into his eyes for a moment, then looked away and said, “Nothing, I just think that as an intern, your reaction to this kind of thing is a bit unexpected.”

William Carter: “…………” Hmm… that’s a good question.

Chapter 8 Business Trip (IV)

“Isn’t it?” James Bennett said.

William Carter replied in his heart: Yes, that’s right.

But what came out of his mouth was already nonsense. When this guy lies, he doesn’t even bother to make up a story—he just says whatever comes to mind: “I don’t think I ever said this was my first time dealing with something like this, did I?”

James Bennett looked at him.

William Carter started spinning a tale: “My father is also a lawyer, and I’ve been exposed to a lot of things following him around. There were a few times he was on the phone in his study without his earpiece, and I overheard by accident. I’ve heard things ten times more intense than this. The first time I heard it, I was little and got a fright. After that, it was just whatever.”

Professor Yan was a master at the art of lying: never be too specific. Only someone who knows they’re lying will try to convince the other person with long-winded stories and deliberately add convincing details.

That’s called “protesting too much”—a guilty conscience.

When people are really just chatting, unless they’re excited, they’ll just explain things briefly and move on. Because they’re telling the truth, they don’t worry about whether the other person believes them.

After he finished, he glanced at James Bennett out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t see clearly, but at least James Bennett wasn’t staring at him with any “probing, penetrating gaze,” and he didn’t slow his steps. It seemed he’d just asked casually and listened just as casually.

“Did you cry?” After a moment, James Bennett suddenly asked.

William Carter: “???”

“I mean, when you were little and heard those things, did you cry?” James Bennett asked, neither warm nor cold.

William Carter: “……”

Classmate, look me in the eye and tell me—who are you saying cried?

But clearly, Lawyer Gu was just taking another jab at his “childhood self” and didn’t really expect an answer.

By the time William Carter snapped out of it, James Bennett was already two steps ahead.

But it was that question just now that made the usually careless William Carter realize he might be being too unguarded. If he kept being so reckless, he’d be in trouble sooner or later. Actually, he wasn’t worried about anything else—he just couldn’t stand losing face.

Especially losing face in front of his own student.

The public security court in Wine City was very close to the detention center, just a ten-minute walk.

The public security court was the most basic level of court, handling all sorts of trivial, messy procedures and cases every day. It wasn’t as solemn and quiet as many people imagined; sometimes it was unexpectedly noisy, especially in places where people applied for bail.

It wasn’t William Carter’s first time here, but every time he came, he couldn’t help but sigh: the public security and judicial staff in Wine City really had it tough—must have had terrible luck for eight hundred lifetimes to be assigned here.

Groups of people gathered in the hall, noisy and chaotic, with holographic paper sheets everywhere.

“I feel like I’ve walked into a poultry farm…” William Carter gave a dry laugh and simply leaned against the door, looking very well-behaved. “This time I’ll stick to my duties as an intern and not compete for Teacher Bennett’s spot. Go ahead.”

James Bennett: “……”

He must have had terrible luck for eight hundred lifetimes to be assigned this intern.