Damon smiled politely, replying, "I haven't noticed any vampire activity in Windy City recently. I suggest you contact the neighboring provinces and arrange for more inter-provincial cooperation to crack the case as soon as possible."
"That sounds reasonable. We won't take up any more of your time, Mr. Harris. Thank you," Shawn said, standing up along with Clerk to leave.
Clerk stopped at the door, turned back to look at Damon, his gaze lingering for a moment before speaking, "Mr. Gilbert, if you do notice any signs of vampires, please report it immediately, or contact me directly. Appreciate your help."
"Understood," Damon replied, sending them off courteously.
Jay closed the office door and sat back on the couch. He lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, and then, with a serious expression, asked, "Damon, are you absolutely sure you haven't found any trace of vampires?"
Damon gave a faint smile. "Professor, are you suspicious of me?"
"Suspicious? No, I'm worried about you." Jay tapped the table, his tone becoming stern. "Though I've retired from the VEA, the rules haven't changed. Harboring a vampire is a serious crime. One mistake, and it's all over—your reputation, your life, everything."
"Professor, don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Also, you're getting older—maybe you should smoke less and drink more soup. Take care of your health," Damon said, walking over and snatching the cigarette from Jay's hand, putting it out.
"You brat, stealing my cigarette? Get out and do your work before I get even more annoyed," Jay waved him off.
"Alright, I'm off," Damon said, casually grabbing the cigarette pack from the coffee table and tossing it into the trash as he left.
Jay watched Damon's retreating figure, deep in thought. After a moment, he picked up his private phone and dialed a number. When the call was answered, he spoke in a low voice, "Things are starting to take shape. Let's wait a little longer."
"Mm," came the faint reply on the other end of the line. The voice was so soft it was almost imperceptible, neither male nor female, before hanging up.
Jay put down the phone and glanced at the cigarette in the trash, muttering to himself, "We all die eventually. Smoking less won't change that."
At 9 AM, Damon had just finished teaching a class and was packing up his teaching materials at the podium when a female student, blushing, hesitantly approached. She finally mustered the courage to say, "Mr. Gilbert, I made these hand-crafted chocolates for you. Please try them."
"Thanks, but I don't accept bribes," Damon replied with a faint smile, not even looking up as he picked up his papers and turned to leave.
The girl stood there holding the chocolates, her face falling in disappointment. "Mr. Gilbert…"
This kind of scene played out every day in Damon's class, except on weekends.
Being so young and good-looking—handsomer than most celebrities on TV—combined with his cool, aloof demeanor, Damon drew attention from countless female students. Some of them never gave up, constantly trying to win his favor. But Damon was always disinterested, never responding to their advances.
However, sometimes things changed—like right now.
"Hey, miss, what department are you in? Want to join us for a coffee?" On a quiet, picturesque path lined with trees on campus, a few boys were walking arm-in-arm, blocking the way of a lone girl.
The girl had golden hair cascading down her shoulders, her features exquisite, skin fair, her long, curled lashes casting soft shadows over her deep, mysterious eyes. She carried an umbrella and wore a golden wig to hide her pointed ears. Her face held a confused, almost seductive expression.
"Coffee? Can I drink something red?" Elena asked, her voice carrying a subtle hint of intrigue.
"Oh, so you like red wine? Then how about we pour some wine on you, and you can sip it one gulp at a time?" The boys immediately perked up, excited at the thought that this girl liked alcohol. This would be the perfect opportunity to get her drunk.
"Sounds good," Elena smiled, her eyes glinting with an eerie light.
"Let's go then. The café is just around the corner," the boys hurried to lead her.
Elena's heart leapt with excitement. Finally, fresh food to feast on. She couldn't wait to show her fangs.
"Damn it! How did this thing get out?"
In his office, Damon stood by the window, catching sight of the familiar figure outside. With a sigh, he put down his textbook, rubbed his forehead, and walked out.
His colleague Caroline, looking uneasy, said, "Mr. Gilbert, where are you going? The public lecture is about to start. It's our first time working together, and I'm afraid I can't handle this alone."
Damon paused and turned back, glancing at her with a faint smile that held no warmth. His voice, calm but firm, floated in the air like the gentle warmth of afternoon sunlight: "Give me ten minutes."
"Alright, I'll wait for you," Caroline replied, though there was a nervousness in her voice as her hands fidgeted uncertainly. She wasn't afraid of teaching on her own—she was used to being the center of attention—but she didn't want to risk losing the chance to collaborate with him.
At the 'Serenity Café' on campus, the only café authorized by the university to serve alcohol, things were quiet in the morning. However, today was different. A stunning, aristocratic-looking blonde had entered, followed by five male students who looked like they were up to no good.
They ordered four bottles of red wine, ten shots, and some snacks, and then made their way up to the largest private room, surrounding the blonde as they went.
The server, concerned about what might happen, quickly called campus security after they had gone upstairs, worried that the students might cause trouble after drinking and harm the school's reputation.
Less than three minutes later, Damon walked into the café, holding an unopened frying pan. He approached the counter and said, "Room number. Now."
"406," the server replied, surprised to see him. "Mr. Gilbert, what are you—?"
"Mm," Damon responded coldly, his handsome face as cold as ice. His long figure moved with deliberate calm, as if a chill had followed him into the café. Without another word, he made his way to the stairs.
In room 406, the atmosphere was lively. The boys had poured the red wine into small cups, lined up on the table with ice cubes, and were eagerly filling them one by one. The wine spilled over, flowing across the table and onto the floor, filling the air with the rich scent of alcohol.
One of the boys sat next to Elena and raised a glass to her. "Miss, how do you want to drink this?"
"Guess," Elena said with a sly smile. Without warning, she grabbed the glass and threw the entire drink into the boy's face.