After the Tribunal Division confirmed it would take over the human-bone case, everyone at the Jiangnan District police station let out a breath. Captain Huang—the officer with the dramatic, blown-out curls—carried a mug of goji-and-chrysanthemum tea back to his desk and sat down, thinking the weather looked great for once. At last, they could breathe. From here on, they only needed to cooperate with the investigators the Tribunal Division sent over.

Then the phone rang, sharp and urgent.

He had barely taken two sips of the tea before setting it down again.

A patrol car rushed to an older residential complex in Jiangnan West District. A body lay on the ground outside, and the local station had already set up cordon tape.

“Captain Huang.” A local officer greeted him.

Captain Huang frowned as he looked at the corpse. The dead man was tall and powerfully built, but he had been stabbed repeatedly—each cut deep enough to show bone, each one fatal. Whoever did this struck with vicious intent, aiming to kill from the first blow.

“There’s no residual atavist energy on him, so he was not killed by an atavist… I think.” The technician spoke, doubt creeping into his own voice. After all, these days, “no detectable residue” did not always mean “no atavist involved.”

Had it become a case of “one foot higher, one demon higher”? Criminals learned that using atavist power made them easier to catch, so they stopped using it on purpose?

Captain Huang’s hair already looked ready to explode again when someone hurried over with another report: there was another victim inside the complex.

Now his hair truly exploded.

Inside the complex, the other victim was a family of three. The ceiling and floor were covered in large patches of blood. Worse still, in the second bedroom lay a corpse that had been eaten halfway—most likely the couple’s child.

The scene remained in its original state; nobody had touched anything. Captain Huang scanned the room and noticed a takeaway container on the floor. He paused, puzzled. The container held raw meat. Why did it look half eaten and then discarded?

Was there a connection between this family of three and the body outside?

Downstairs, chaos reigned. Residents crowded together with outsiders who came to gawk.

Among the onlookers stood a tall, thin man with a pale face. Under his mask hid a deep gash stitched with many sutures, almost splitting his left cheek. The hand pressed over his abdomen also covered a wound that nearly opened his gut.

“Damn it,” he muttered through the pain. “I misjudged him. He’s a mad dog. No wonder he kept her hidden so well.”

He covered his left cheek and tugged the right corner of his mouth into a cold, crooked smile as he stared at the bulky corpse outside.

“You did good, brother. Your death has value. We’ll drag him into the light soon.”

He turned away and made a call.

“Find out what he is. Canine atavism, I think. Purity probably not high, but his close-quarters combat is brutal. He almost wiped us out without using atavist power. The style looks like Twelve Zodiac Academy training. Adult, so he must have graduated…”

…

Twelve Zodiac Academy.

After leaving the principal’s office, they did not return to class. They headed for the lounge area instead.

Feng Yilian spoke. “Do you know what a Mutant is?”

He was talking to Jing Pei.

Chen Mo and the others stared at Feng Yilian in shock. What was going on? That lazy parasite who found breathing tiring had actually spoken first.

Ah—got it. He would set it up, then toss the explanation to Chen Mo with a look.

Jing Pei, of course, already knew. Still, she chose to go through the motions and shook her head.

Chen Mo readied himself, lips parting.

Feng Yilian continued, “Mutants showed up about a century ago. Back then, the black market began selling an illegal drug called ‘Atavist Serum.’ They claimed that if an ordinary human injected it, they would become an atavist. One ingredient in the serum came from atavist genes extracted from atavists.”

“When that gene entered an ordinary human and fused with their cells, it triggered something like rejection, turning the person into a monster that lost reason and knew only hunger.”

Chen Mo… stayed silent.

“Later, governments across multiple nations jointly banned the drug and cracked down on those illegal research groups, and the Mutant crisis eased. But the authorities never caught the true boss behind the organization. Mutants still appear from time to time, like some people keep gambling that they can use the drug to become atavists.”

“I see.” Jing Pei nodded.

The lounge resembled a quiet library salon, with books and partitioned cubicles. Plenty of people sat inside. Jing Pei even spotted Wu Ying and her younger brother Jiang Qing. Something had happened—Wu Ying looked furious and slapped Jiang Qing across the face. Jiang Qing said nothing and silently poured tea and brought water for her.

Teams from the Atavist Division across grades and classes had been assigned cases and gathered here. Some teams included a few students from the Ordinary Division—anyone allowed in was clearly exceptional. People read case files or discussed their own cases in low voices.

Everyone found seats and began studying the dossiers. Only Jing Pei took out her phone to browse online.

“Hey, Long Jin—what are you doing?”

A displeased female voice snapped. Jing Pei raised her eyes.

Tang Qiaoqiao.

She looked miserable. Worry for Wen Yuxian’s health weighed on her. Wen Yuxian was also an atavist—his purity might be low, but his body still far exceeded an ordinary human’s. A common cold or fever rarely touched someone like him; if he took sick leave, it tended to mean something serious.

And she had been assigned a mission, so she could not go check on him or stay by his side. Restlessness gnawed at her. Her twin ponytails drooped, and her face looked sour as vinegar—she was hunting for someone to pick on.

She stared at the closed folder in front of Jing Pei, then at the phone in Jing Pei’s hand. The others all looked over as well.

“If you don’t want to take this mission, you can refuse. Don’t drag your feet,” Tang Qiaoqiao said.

Jing Pei blinked. “This? I already memorized it. No need to keep reading. I’m waiting for you all to finish.”

Tang Qiaoqiao: “…”

Everyone else: “…”

Damn. Forgot she is the academic god who farmed her way into seventh year through bonus questions.

So… so jealous. Tao Ying, who already felt her eyelids sinking after two pages, stared at Jing Pei with a dazed look, then slowly went back to reading.

Jing Pei kept watching what happened with her Hujing Prefecture client.

Hujing had a wild night. First, one half of the model rich-family couple died. Then the police finally learned where that Death Notice Serial Killer hid and launched a siege, only for the killer to slip away.

The police issued a wanted notice overnight, publishing the killer’s real name, ID number, photo, background, and more.

Now everyone in Hujing stayed on edge, watching every person around them, terrified that a friend might be the killer in disguise.

People in other prefectures grew tense too, fearing the killer would flee Hujing and continue killing elsewhere.

But Jing Pei knew the killer’s pride would not let him leave Hujing so easily, unless… he learned why he got exposed down to the last thread.

After a while, they all finished reading the file and began discussing what to do next.

Chen Mo said, “We should visit the places where the bones were found first.”

“But there are too many,” Tang Qiaoqiao complained. “Not just Jiangnan East, West, South, North—some were found outside Jiangnan District too.”

Feng Yilian said, “Split up and take a look. Those bone-drop spots are not the crime scenes. They might hold no clues. Don’t waste too much time there.”

Jing Pei said, “No objections.”

The others agreed. Teacher Cao nodded after hearing their plan. He looked at the five students. Of the Four Symbols, only three remained, and two sat right here. The other three were also top-tier talents with high atavist purity. From that alone, calling them the strongest team did not sound like boasting.

He warned them, “Keep your phones on. Stay in contact with me at all times. You must regroup at dinner. No solo action, got it?”

“Got it.”

They split up and headed to their assigned locations.

Jing Pei’s location was Jiangnan East District. Since she already knew the full truth, she had no plan to waste time running around. She picked a café with a good atmosphere and ordered coffee and dessert.

The sweetness exploded on her tongue. She took several swallows of bitter coffee to cut it down. What a joke—pretty on the outside, awful in taste.

She propped her chin and scrolled her phone.

Two days ago, she had called Tao Ze and had him mail a letter from where he was. That letter should arrive soon.

…

Tang Qiaoqiao did the same. The moment she split from the team, she pulled out her phone and called Wen Yuxian.

The ringtone sounded sharp in that dim room. It rang for a while, then rang again.

Wen Yuxian’s pale hand picked up. Tang Qiaoqiao’s bright, lively voice poured out like a waterfall.

“Teacher Wen! Teacher Wen, you got sick? What is it? Is it serious? Should I send my family doctor to check on you?”

At that moment, Wen Yuxian felt only irritation toward that voice. It sounded aggressive and pushy, the kind that sparked anger. His voice turned cold, losing its usual warmth.

“No need. I’m fine.”

“You took sick leave, how can you be fine? Let my family doctor come over, please. If you need medicine, we have—”

“No need. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to hang—” Wen Yuxian held his temper. He did not want to snap at a student. His hand moved toward ending the call.

“Sorry, Teacher! I really want to come see you myself, but the school suddenly assigned a mission today, so I can’t go in person. I swear, once I find an opening, I will come see you!”

Tang Qiaoqiao never noticed Wen Yuxian’s change. She panicked that he might think she lacked sincerity because she sent a doctor instead of coming herself, so she rushed to explain.

Wen Yuxian’s hand paused.

After a long beat, his tone softened a little. “What mission?”

“The Jiangnan District human-bone case. Teacher, do you know it?”

“I heard of it. It sounds dangerous. Are you alone?” Wen Yuxian asked.

“No, no. There’s Lianhua, Chen Ji—cough, cough—Chen Mo, Tao Ying, and Long Jin.”

Wen Yuxian showed concern, and Tang Qiaoqiao felt thrilled. She held nothing back and did not want to end the call.

So when Wen Yuxian asked what clues they had, she told him everything. After Wen Yuxian told her to stay safe and ended the call, she still felt restless, as if she wanted more. Ever since she confessed to him, he rarely talked with her this much one-on-one.

“Good. Still no clues that point at me,” Wen Yuxian murmured after hanging up. “I need to kill the one who escaped yesterday. I must kill him. But where is he hiding?”

“Ding-dong, ding-dong.”

The doorbell rang.

Wen Yuxian snapped his gaze over.

But the doorbell rang once and fell silent. A letter slid in through the gap under the door.

Wen Yuxian walked over and picked it up. No one stood outside. He opened the door a crack and leaned his head out, spotting the mail carrier riding away on an electric scooter.

These days, hardly anyone mails letters like this anymore—too slow, too easy to lose. That was why there was no mailbox outside his home, and the postal worker rang the doorbell instead.

Who sent it?

Wen Yuxian frowned, puzzled.

The return address listed Liuyun Prefecture—so far from Yunjin Prefecture it might as well be the edge of the world. The sender was “Mo Weiwei.” He did not recognize the name at all, and it did not exist in his memory. If the envelope did not clearly state his address and his name, Wen Yuxian, he would have suspected it had been delivered to the wrong place.

The envelope felt thin, as if it held nothing but paper.

When he tore it open, it really did hold no letter.

Instead, he pulled out a business card.

On it was printed:

Puzzle Intelligence Agency

And beneath that, a phone number.