I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

"Albert, my good brother."

Ivan lowered his head, using the act of wiping away tears to completely swallow the slight smile.

"You're so lucky to be dead."

The time ahead is long; after completing the extraordinary journey, one must still traverse the mundane realm.

The process involves taking a statement, signing, and leaving fingerprints. Then, in a different room, with a different investigator, the process is repeated.

The corridor lights made every face look somewhat sallow.

The hands of the copper-cased wall clock slowly climbed from twelve o'clock to one o'clock, and then from two o'clock to three o'clock.

By the time all the procedures were completed, a thin layer of frost had formed on the cobblestone pavement in front of the New Haven Police Department.

Two luxury cars were parked at the bottom of the steps, their headlights cutting through the cold night of late November.

Karp got into the driver's seat himself, and Ivan was assigned to the passenger seat.

In the back row are Erdin and Mrs. Victor.

In the second car, Jack was driving, and two other bodyguards were accompanying Mr. Newt, the Hearst family's private lawyer in New Haven.

Throughout the entire process, Evan barely spoke; he simply closed his eyes and rested.

Every important document was handled by Newt, the lawyer who wore gold-rimmed glasses and spoke slowly and deliberately.

All Ivan needed to do was sign and put his fingerprint on the document.

The car started, and the engine emitted a dull roar.

Karp rested one hand on the steering wheel and glanced at Ivan out of the corner of his eye.

"Well done, Arkham."

His tone carried the kind of taut approval that only an old bodyguard would have.

Just now in the police station corridor, he used his connections to access several relevant eyewitness testimonies in advance.

Ivan's performance was flawless.

At this point, Erdin also spoke up.

“Arkham, classmate.”

Her voice came softly through the velvet back of the seat behind her.

"Thank you for your perseverance, and... for your courage."

"Alcott has been bothering me for a long time. After this, I should be able to have some peace and quiet."

Ivan wiped his nose and turned around from the passenger seat.

That tired face broke into a rather simple smile in the dim moonlight.

"Then... could I get a bonus?"

There was a half-second of silence in the carriage.

Erdin covered her mouth and laughed.

"Let Mr. Karp decide; he's the professional."

Karp sighed and tapped his knuckles lightly twice on the steering wheel.

"It will happen."

He sighed, but the tension that had been building up inside him quietly eased.

"good."

He silently praised him in his heart.

"With this kid's emotional intelligence and cunning... he can forget about winning Miss's favor."

"This is a bodyguard I can trust."

What just happened would have been a golden opportunity for any ambitious young man.

Tears, gratitude, oaths of loyalty, and a few weighty, beautiful words...

If Evan wanted, he could easily use tonight's commotion to elevate himself into Miss Hearst's sights.

If he actually did that, Garp would immediately become wary.

That's what those with ill intentions do.

Now, this kid just talks about money all the time.

Garp chuckled inwardly; things would be much easier from there.

After all, for someone of his caliber, problems that can be solved with money are not problems at all.

When I got back to the hotel, it was already past four in the morning.

The crystal chandelier in the lobby, which had been specially brightened, had been switched back to its usual dim setting. The entire floor was so quiet that you could hear the echo of your own heels hitting the marble.

Most people had already gone back to sleep, except for Dean Smith, who was still standing next to the small sofa covered with dark red velvet in the corner of the lobby.

The usually meticulous Director Smith, whose hair was styled as neatly as an oil painting.

At this moment, he looked like an old coat that had been casually pulled out of the closet and hung up haphazardly.

His hair was a mess. His glasses were perched crookedly on his nose.

The handkerchief he usually folded into a neat square was now crumpled into a dirty, mushy mess.

His expression was just like that of a gambler who was desperate and about to be confronted by gangs demanding repayment of debts.

He was the one leading the team, so if something went wrong, he would naturally be responsible.

If it were just a poor student like Arkham who died, this wouldn't even cause a ripple. An orphan who doesn't even have parents could easily pocket the three or five hundred dollars in compensation he received earlier.

Then the file is locked in a drawer, and the following week it's completely forgotten, and no one will mention it.

But this time, eleven people died.

Moreover, they were all from wealthy families.

Alcott was branded a "wicked criminal" for reaching out his dirty hands to the people he least wanted to harm.

This kind of thing can't be suppressed by simply giving some money; the companies that were offended are almost all well-off.

Seeing Ivan and his group walk in through the revolving door, Smith jogged over to greet them.

"Miss Hearst!"

He paused abruptly at the word "classmate," forcing the second half of the sentence back to the proper form of address for a noble lady.

"How's the situation over there...?"

Ertin had been tormented for several hours tonight, and a hint of exhaustion was visible in his eyes.

She slightly raised her chin towards the middle-aged man in the gray suit behind her.

“My lawyer will talk to you.”

After saying that, she didn't even slow down and walked straight toward the elevator.

Karp followed behind, Mrs. Victor pulled down her hat brim, and the group filed into the elevator. The brass elevator doors closed, leaving Smith behind.

Newt, the lawyer, wearing a well-tailored gray suit, a dark brown wool coat, and gold-rimmed glasses, spoke with a smile.

"Director Smith."

He nodded politely in greeting.

Smith grabbed his elbow and practically dragged him onto the small, dark red sofa.

"gentlemen!"

His voice was low, trembling with barely suppressed emotion.

"Can this be handled privately?"

“I will negotiate with the Alcott family! I can negotiate a sufficiently generous compensation!”

Newt didn't rush to answer, but instead scrutinized the director in front of him from behind his glasses with the same look he would give a poorly fitting suit.

“Look…” Smith’s voice was filled with eagerness.

He finally spoke.

"Miss Hearst, are you short of money?"

Smith's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Newt casually toyed with an exquisite metal cigarette case.

"If it weren't for Arkham's insistence."

"If it weren't for the fact that we happened to alert that hidden serial killer."

He paused for a moment, as if giving the other person time to process the two "ifs".

"If Miss Hearst really suffered what those poor girls suffered."

Do you think your compensation will solve the problem?

Smith opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

He raised his hand to adjust his glasses, his hand trembling so much he could barely hold the frame.

Large beads of sweat slid down his temples and wrinkles, landing on the collar of his waistcoat and leaving a small dark stain.

He knew that this time, he was truly finished.

……

The fate of the judges' faction allowed the storm, ignited by Ivan himself, to spread at an alarming rate along various intelligence networks.

Secret messages from the extraordinary side are sent out through specific means of communication.

Meanwhile, intelligence from the secular side was sent back to Bolton City overnight via telegram, the fastest means of communication.

A large number of high-ranking officials were alerted at the same time.

Lighthouse Hill, Hearst Manor.