"Why do you think he had to draw it on me? Wouldn't it have been better to draw it on the ground?" Eric Bennett said. "No one could be that stupid, right?"

"I don't know either. Maybe it's because you look so delicate. Wasn't there a movie where the Nazis especially liked tattooing on children's skin?"

"Impossible." Eric Bennett found it strange. He recalled what that person said when attacking him and felt that the person's intentions were very clear. He was attacked, and it definitely wasn't because the other guy was stupid. The reason for carving it on his own back was probably because it seemed more secure—meaning, the desire to leave this information was extremely strong.

So, what exactly is the significance of this pattern from the ancient corpse's back, that made that person think it was so important, important enough to risk his life just to leave it behind?

"Since you know Samuel Cooper is a tomb robber, why didn't you call the police?" Eric Bennett thought for a moment and said to himself: If you had called the police earlier, none of this would have happened. Maybe I could have even gotten some honorary citizen award and shown off at the morning assembly.

"Call the police? Someone who dares to talk to me so openly about this must have nothing to fear. Besides, how do I know if what he said is true? What if he's just a big liar? And anyway, being a tomb robber is such a cool job. The guy is pretty good-looking too. I thought I'd spend some time with him, see if anything develops, and then call the police if needed. And his boss is just so charming. If I could see him again, that would be wonderful."

"Come on, don't drag me into your crushes," Eric Bennett said. "I almost got electrocuted by your crush today."

"How was I supposed to know he just wanted to use me? I thought we had a good conversation." Grace Thompson sighed, the pain in her back making her frown. "Men, they're just fucking unreliable."

"And you're fucking unreliable too, okay!" Eric Bennett shouted at the driver, "Sir, take us to the nearest police station, we need to report a tomb robber who attacked us."

The driver turned around and gave them a puzzled look. Grace Thompson immediately said, "Just kidding, just kidding, my boyfriend has some mental issues."

"So young and already dating, impressive," the driver said.

"What exactly are you trying to do?" Hearing Grace Thompson call him her boyfriend, Eric Bennett's heart softened, and he asked in a low voice.

"I told you, these people are not to be messed with. Judging by his boss, he's definitely not an ordinary guy. And they clearly have a lot of people. If we rashly call the police and make a big deal out of it, and they want revenge, where would we hide?" Grace Thompson said. "You have to trust my life experience—this world isn't as simple as you think."

Eric Bennett curled his lips, thinking that the police were still more reliable than a lovesick woman. He made up his mind to report those bastards, to get some closure for his back, but not now—he still wanted to see what else would happen between him and Grace Thompson tonight.

The taxi drove on and finally stopped at Wangjing. Grace Thompson, wearing high heels, had trouble walking, so Eric Bennett helped her, stumbling into a building in a residential complex. After reaching the fourteenth floor, they finally arrived at Grace Thompson's home. They opened the door and went in; it was pitch black inside. Eric Bennett smelled a scent unique to a woman's home—not exactly fragrant, but very comforting.

"Wait a second, it's a bit messy, don't be scared," Grace Thompson turned on the lights. Eric Bennett immediately saw an extremely simply furnished living room—aside from a sofa, there was no other furniture, but clothes and black stockings were piled everywhere.

Eric Bennett frowned, thinking that if she hadn't warned him, he would have thought the place had been robbed. He was about to make a joke when suddenly Grace Thompson screamed, and he immediately saw that there was actually someone sitting on the sofa.

That person must have been sitting there with his eyes closed, resting, and only opened his eyes when the lights came on.

It was a young man, tall and slender, wearing a brown jacket and gloves, looking very casual. In front of him was a cup of coffee—who knows if he brought it himself or made it with Grace Thompson's equipment. The young man looked at them calmly, as if he wasn't surprised at all.

"Your boyfriend?" Eric Bennett asked, thinking, Oh no, I'm not ready to deal with this. How many men does this woman have?

"No, this is Samuel Cooper's boss," Grace Thompson said. "I met him briefly at the hospital."

"My name is Henry Foster." The young man stood up, lit a cigarette, and Eric Bennett noticed it was the same brand as Samuel Cooper's. "Sorry, you two, my subordinate didn't handle things well. I hope you can forgive us. I believe our transaction isn't finished yet."

Grace Thompson couldn't help but tremble a little, backing away. Eric Bennett sensed Grace Thompson's fear and immediately became afraid as well, also backing away.

They had only taken a few steps back when they heard a noise behind them. The elevator doors opened, and several burly men came out, blocking their way.