Cthulhu America, I can see the kill line.

Inside a research building at Hills University.

Ofawi Vicarette adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze falling on the somewhat awkward-looking young man from the East.

"Three months left, Jiu Jiu. Should I say you found out early or late?"

The old professor sighed, picked up the visa overstay application form that Kong Jiu had rushed out overnight, frowned slightly, and spoke with a hint of disappointment.

As a highly respected scholar at Hills University, Professor Offavi was clearly more affectionate toward Conjur than toward his other students.

This student from the East wasn't academically outstanding, but he was thoughtful and meticulous in his dealings with others. Whether it was mentoring new students, organizing research projects, or assisting with the handover of police projects, he could always handle even the most trivial tasks in an orderly manner.

In Professor Ofawi’s eyes, Conju was undoubtedly a good teaching assistant, a good senior student, and a diligent and tactful young man.

Why did things go wrong on such a crucial issue as visas?

"Professor, it was my oversight. I should have thought of this when I applied for the 4+4 research program."

Kong Jiu lowered his head, his tone sincere, almost as if he were apologizing.

Ofawi shook his head: "I was the one who sent you to clinical internship, and I also bear some responsibility for not paying attention to your visa expiration date."

A flicker of panic crossed Kong Jiu's face, and he quickly waved his hand, "No, no, Professor, this is my own problem. You just need to sign this, and I'll handle the rest with the international student office myself..."

"Alright, that's enough."

The old professor interrupted him, his tone softening, "This isn't a big deal, it just takes a bit of trouble."

He picked up the pen and signed the document deftly, thus issuing a certificate confirming that Kong Jiu had served as his graduate student intern.

"With the normal processing speed, let alone three months, you wouldn't get this approved even in three years."

The old professor opened a drawer on his desk, squinted, and began searching through a stack of business cards.

"Jiujiu, you rarely make mistakes. The occasional slip-up actually makes me think you're like a young person, and I believe this will be your last."

As he spoke, he took out an orange business card and handed it to Kong Jiu.

Fern Lee, whose business card clearly shows that he is also of Chinese descent.

"This person is strange, but he's a master at handling urgent government affairs. You two may have a lot in common."

Kong Jiu accepted the business card with both hands and bowed repeatedly. The professor waved his hand impatiently.

"You should talk to him yourself, don't say that I recommended him."

Kong Jiu nodded knowingly: "Don't worry, I'll resolve the visa issue as soon as possible and then come back to report the good news."

After speaking, he turned to leave.

"Wait, Jiu Jiu, there's something else," Ofavi called out to him.

"The police station has two more bodies today. They belong to psychics. Try not to let them accumulate until the weekend. Go and deal with them when you have time in the next couple of days."

Two sets of psionic remains?

Kong Jiu's heart skipped a beat.

"Professor, I have another question I'd like to ask you."

He carefully chose his words, "If someone is struck by psychic energy and doesn't experience any major physical abnormalities, but when visually observing others, they see regular, unusual objects on the top of their heads, is this considered a psychic aftereffect?"

"Good lad."

Ofawi glanced at him, his eyes filled with approval.

"How did you know I'm going to give a lecture to freshmen next week about the effects of psychic energy on the optic nerve?"

Kong Jiu pursed his lips.

"What? How would I know? I don't know. I was also wondering if this condition counts as an illness, and whether it requires treatment?"

Of course, he couldn't directly ask, "Professor, can you recommend a top expert on the aftereffects of psionicism?"

In Amerigo Veterinary Medicine, showing an indecent wound to someone is a major taboo.

The professor took off his glasses, took out a silk cloth, and slowly wiped them. "Since you're interested, come and audit the class."

After responding, Kong Jiu secretly glanced at the professor's bulging health bar and sheepishly left the office.

What exactly is the effect of this 'health bar'?

Both Old Chad and his own health bar had a blurry image, as if some of it had been depleted.

But the professor's health bar was full and spotless.

Is it possible that the more knowledgeable a person is, the more blood they have?

That shouldn't be the case... Old Chad can't even calculate eight times eight, so how come his health bar is about the same as mine?

He walked through the thin layer of snow, lost in thought, until he reached the small clinic.

Winter is great; even the faint smell of corpses in the clinic has faded considerably.

Winter is terrible; every day there are new corpses being collected.

As soon as Kong Jiu pushed open the door, he saw two long plastic bags placed in the waiting area through the glass window of the operating room door.

These directly delivered remains are all "white corpses".

A white corpse is a body that has been closed by the police and has not been claimed by any family member.

The professor essentially bought the body from the police, and could even get an invoice.

Why did the professor assign him this lucrative job?

Because both biopharmaceuticals and clinical medicine require a large number of human subjects for experiments.

Those in better condition can be transferred to medical schools as teaching aids after a little processing.

Those who are less fortunate have their organs harvested and supplied to pharmaceutical companies.

However, very few are actually in good condition.

Most of those handled by the police were unfortunate souls who died unnatural deaths in the slums.

They either have bullet holes in their foreheads or are covered in germs.

People who die a natural death would have been claimed by their families long ago; why would they be sold here?

Of course, only a small number of the white corpses cooperated with the police.

More often than not, he had to go to the site himself and buy the "black corpses" just like buying and selling them at a vegetable market.

To put it bluntly, they are the remains of illegal immigrants.

These corpses didn't even have a registered address before they died, so the police didn't bother with them, and their deaths were often more gruesome.

Kong Jiu changed into protective clothing and entered the dissection room.

Unzip the plastic bag, and two faces I'd seen just yesterday came into view.

No, perhaps it shouldn't be called the face.

The psionic thug was headless, while the homeless psionicist had a bloody hole in his head, his unfocused pupils staring straight at the ceiling.

"Is it really you?"

Kong Jiu frowned.

He picked up the documents the police had brought him and looked at the biographical information of the two men.

The petty thug's experiences are unremarkable; he's the kind of guy who takes some kind of booster and knows a little bit of psychic abilities, thinks he's made it big, and ends up as a street thug.

This homeless man, however, has quite a rich resume.

His name is Oscar Dale, a Chicago native, and like old Chad, he was a veteran.

But after his wife became addicted to drugs, their family was destroyed. From then on, he focused on hunting drug addicts and roamed the slums.

In Amerigo, there are many people who deeply resent the enhancer, and old Chad is one of them.

Enhancers are touted as being able to improve sensory experience and unleash potential.

In reality, that momentary pleasure is enough to make people abandon all responsibilities and ties, ultimately turning them into empty shells that exist only for sensory stimulation.

Kong Jiu gazed at the remains, his eyes filled with a newfound respect.

This person was not the ruthless psionic criminal he had imagined.

If that's the case, why did he struggle to inject a wisp of spiritual energy into his body before he died?

If only this corpse could open its mouth and tell me what kind of psionic energy was causing that health bar-like thing.

Kong Jiu sighed and began to deal with the body.

Apart from the hole in the forehead, the body is relatively intact and may be left as a teaching aid for younger students.

As he cut open the clothes and prepared to take them off, he pulled a stack of papers from the deceased's chest pocket.

Strange, the police didn't search thoroughly?

Out of curiosity, Kong Jiu unfolded the paper.

But after reading just the first few words, he felt a chill run down his spine.

"Future gentleman, witness to my death, numerology will surely guide you to see this letter."

His heart skipped a beat.

This psychic somehow managed to bypass the police search and get this letter into my hands?

Is he a follower of Chaos Theory? Did he use some kind of numerology to interfere with his ability to see this letter?

Although Kong Jiu considered himself a mechanical atheist, he couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart when faced with such bizarre events after being transported to this place.

He composed himself and forced himself to continue reading.

"My life is short and insignificant compared to Amerigo Vespucci's great three hundred years, but I would never want to see the beacon of freedom fall into the abyss of enhancers."

Future sage, this extraordinary ability to see the lifelines of others is what I have learned throughout my life.

If one develops bad habits, one's peaceful life will crumble, and one's life will slowly fall to the brink of death, where one will be killed by the world.

Whether it's eradicating endangered scourges or saving countless lives, may you become an agent of the chaotic sea, making good use of this power.

At the end of the letter, there was a drawing of an eight-pointed star.

The moment Kong Jiu's gaze fell upon the pattern, his pupils paused slightly.

[Spiritual Vision +1]

[Gained Skill: Gaze at the Dead Eye]

[Look directly at the eye of death: You can observe a person's comprehensive lifeline, which includes social status, physical condition, wealth, etc. Falling below this total threshold indicates death.]

[Gained Skill: Chaos Agent]

[Chaos Agent (Beginner): You may step into the boundless sea of ​​chaos, but please note that there are no rules there.]