Ethan snapped his fingers, and a black bookmark appeared between his two fingers. “The second row of bookshelves on your right, the book at the far bottom left.”

　　Gunsmith took the bookmark and said, “Heh heh, thanks.”

　　Ethan spoke again in an extremely disgusted tone, “Tracking device.”

　　Gunsmith said, “Got it. I’ll help you remove it once I’m out.”

　　He scampered over to the bookshelf and squatted down. Ethan stretched out his voice and shouted from behind him, “You idiot! That’s the left!”

　　Chapter Six: The Second Victim

　　On December 12th, the police had already withdrawn from the school. Everything in the teaching building had returned to normal, but what could never return was the human heart.

　　The atmosphere in the staff room seemed peaceful. The teachers did their best to act as usual—chatting, resting, scolding students. But every now and then, out of the corner of their eyes, each of them would glance at Matsuo’s original seat. In that moment, none of them could quite describe what they were feeling inside.

　　Because the deceased was the homeroom teacher and a replacement couldn’t be found in a short time, the school temporarily arranged a substitute teacher for Samuel Grant’s class.

　　He was an elderly man with graying hair, probably a retired teacher hired from outside. Seeing him, at his age, still braving the cold wind and riding a bicycle to school to contribute what he could, one couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy.

　　Whether he was truly passionate about education or forced by circumstances, he was still much better than someone like Matsuo. Even if the students didn’t exactly respect him, at least they didn’t loathe him the way they did Matsuo.

　　Half a day slipped by quietly. Although some people still talked about Matsuo, their expressions were far less animated than yesterday. Perhaps this is the saddest thing about “people.” Humans are just too easily forgotten by their own kind, because each of us only remembers ourselves.

　　“Walter Reed.” Samuel Grant walked up to Walter Reed and called him by name.

　　At these words, Walter Reed’s expression changed immediately. Samuel Grant actually took the initiative to talk to him—this surprised him greatly. Normally, Samuel Grant was always bullied by Walter Reed and would never approach him on his own. Even if forced to speak, he would always use honorifics first. But today, he looked serious and directly said “Walter Reed.”

　　“What is it?” Walter Reed responded quickly, guessing that this abnormal behavior must be related to what happened the night before last.

　　Did he see me with the mosquito coil?

　　Walter Reed’s worry didn’t come true, but something even more terrifying happened. Samuel Grant’s next words struck Walter Reed like a bolt of lightning.

　　“September 4th.”

　　After saying this, Samuel Grant calmly turned and walked away, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.

　　Walter Reed didn’t call after him, just sat there in shock, his eyes losing focus.

　　Halfway through the first class in the afternoon, Walter Reed suddenly claimed to feel unwell, left the classroom, and then went to the staff office to ask for leave and went home early.

　　“Kill him… kill him… bastard… that bastard… I have to kill him…” From the moment Walter Reed left the classroom, he began muttering through gritted teeth, his vicious expression sending chills down anyone who saw him.

　　September 4th—few people knew the meaning of these words, but Samuel Grant was definitely not one of them. The only reason he would say this to Walter Reed was because it was the condition of his deal with Ethan.

　　“At one o’clock tomorrow afternoon, just say ‘September 4th’ to Walter Reed. Once you’ve done that, you can come find me to complete the deal.”

　　Recalling what Ethan had said at the time, Samuel Grant still couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was just a random phrase—what consequences could it possibly have?

　　That evening, a few stray cats knocked over a trash can while scavenging for food, and Walter Reed’s head rolled out from inside.

　　His body was discovered in an alley this way. The place wasn’t on his route home, and his family later confirmed that he hadn’t returned after leaving school that day.

　　The police speculated that this wasn’t the primary crime scene, because Walter Reed had been dismembered. The body parts stuffed in the trash can had been chopped into more than a dozen pieces, all packed into a large garbage bag.

　　After school, Samuel Grant knew nothing about this. He hurried eagerly to Ethan’s bookstore. Bursting through the door, he stumbled to Ethan’s desk and said, “Quick! Tell me! What was Matsuo’s purpose for sneaking into the school at night? And why did Walter Reed kill someone?”

　　Ethan scratched his head and yawned. “Walter Reed is already dead.”

　　Samuel Grant froze in place. “Wha… what… what did you say…”

　　“I don’t want to repeat myself. That would make me look stupid—just like you.”

　　“Impossible! He was at school today! I even said to him…”

　　“Yes, I know. He took leave and went home afterward, and then he died.”

　　“How… how did he die?”

　　“He was hacked to death.” Ethan took a sip of coffee and glanced at Samuel Grant. “Do you want to know who did it?”

　　“Who was it?”