"The buyer, the broker, and a total of five people, along with the seller Eric Carter, were all apprehended, and the communication devices and cash involved in Room 1625 have also been sealed," the disciplinary office team member reported solemnly. "The evolutionary meteorite carried by Eric Carter has already been sent to the appraisal department, and results will be out within eight hours."

Brian Sullivan said, "Return to the disciplinary office."

"Yes!"

All team members in the lobby quickly packed up and prepared to leave. Brian Sullivan walked toward the door, but just as he was about to step over the threshold, a hand reached out in front of him, effortlessly blocking his way.

"Did you forget something, Inspector?" Ethan White leaned casually against the doorframe, smiling.

The Chief Inspector's collar was buttoned up to his throat, dressed all in black with a pale, refined face and long, elegant brows and eyes. When he lowered his lashes to gaze at something, there was a silent, deep-cold aura about him, as if that intoxicating, wine-scented beauty had never existed at all.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. White." Brian Sullivan paused, then said, "But I hope I won't see you at a crime scene next time."

"..." Ethan White said, "That's too distant, Inspector. I never expect anything in return for my help—I'm not here for your thanks."

Brian Sullivan looked him up and down, as if to say, Then are you here to put on a show?

Ethan White glanced around, one hand in his pocket, leaned forward slightly, his thin lips almost brushing Brian Sullivan's ear, the end of his words laced with a teasing hook:

"Inspector, I submitted my application to be recruited by the Shenhai City Disciplinary Office three days ago. Don't you want to have me?"

Jason Brooks was striding over while listening to the report, and when he suddenly looked up and saw this scene, the whole group stopped in their tracks.

Brian Sullivan took half a step back, putting a bit of distance between them, and looked at Ethan White politely but without any emotion.

"The Central Disciplinary Office in City B has priority in recruiting domestic evolutionaries. As far as I know, they've already sent you an invitation. I appreciate your interest, Mr. White, but the Central Office is more entitled to have you than I am."

Ethan White persisted: "But I only want to follow you—is that not allowed? I thought so the first time I saw you in the newspaper."

"…"

"Following you has always been my lifelong dream, Inspector Sullivan."

Brian Sullivan gazed at the young, sincere face of Ethan White before him, narrowing his eyes slightly, saying nothing.

Perhaps the hotel's dazzling golden lights were too bright—no one could see the subtle, indescribable emotion in the eyes of the Shenhai City Inspector.

"—You are Director Sullivan, aren't you?"

That summer afternoon, the wind swept through the research institute's corridor. The young director of the Central Disciplinary Office leaned against the stair railing, the scent of training rounds lingering on his camouflage uniform, raising his hand to block the other's path, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

"My name is Kevin Foster, an evolutionary from the Central Disciplinary Office. After learning about your project, I became very interested and would like to apply to join your research group."

A group of researchers passed by at the end of the corridor, stopping when they saw the scene. Whispered conversations drifted on the wind: "Is that Kevin Foster?" "It must be him!" "I heard the institute has been trying hard to recruit him lately..." "Why is he looking for Director Sullivan?"

...

Brian Sullivan had just come out of the lab, one hand in the pocket of his white coat, standing on the upper steps, sizing up Kevin Foster for a moment before replying coldly, "Aren't you evolutionaries protesting at the UN every day, accusing me of human experimentation and persecuting you? Now you want to join me?"

Kevin Foster was sincere and gentle: "I've already learned the true nature of your research from the director."

Brian Sullivan narrowed his eyes, saying nothing.

"I want to follow you, to witness with my own eyes this path of research that defies ethics, to see where the wheel of evolution will ultimately be driven..." Kevin Foster looked up at those sharp, coldly handsome eyes above, reaching out his hand, palm up.

"Or, if you don't mind, please allow me to pursue you."

The two stood at different heights, separated by several concrete steps, with the distant sound of cicadas and voices fading into the background.

There was a subtle look in Brian Sullivan's eyes, as if weighing something. After a long moment, he finally descended one step, leaning slightly toward Kevin Foster's ear.

The posture was lofty and full of interest, but he didn't answer the previous question directly:

"I heard you're a rare S-class."

...

Under the brilliant hotel lights, Brian Sullivan finally let out a silent breath and said, "I don't need you, Mr. White."

Ethan White was about to say something when Brian Sullivan raised his hand—a gesture that brooked no argument—then leaned in slightly, and in a low voice only the two of them could hear, warned, word by word: "Stop prying into my personal affairs."

"…"

Brian Sullivan straightened up, his expression cold and composed, not sparing anyone another glance, brushed past Ethan White, and walked out of the lobby.

Chapter 7

The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. Ethan White came out, towel-drying his damp hair.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the bustling night view of the entire city could be seen. Ethan White's upper body was bare, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his muscles smooth and defined, every line exuding a quiet sense of power. His chiseled abs led downward, the V-line disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist.