"Hello, Beatrice!"

Sulu greeted the girl who entered, his voice steady.

He had to admit, Beatrice was truly beautiful—her eyes a striking emerald green, her long hair flowing like a soft waterfall, her small and delicate features, skin as smooth and pale as milk, and a figure that adhered perfectly to the golden ratio.

Sulu inwardly scoffed at himself, yet couldn't deny that most men were visually driven.

At the very least, seeing a beautiful woman was undeniably pleasant.

However, Beatrice, in that moment, frowned, her face wearing a haughty expression. "So, what’s this about? You called me here. What do you want?"

"Huh?"

Sulu furrowed his brows. "Didn’t you invite me here?"

A sense of unease began to stir within him, a quiet but persistent feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

"Sulu!" Beatrice’s nose tilted slightly upward, her voice cool. "I told you before—there’s no future for us. Don’t try to pull these petty tricks in front of me."

The proud girl. Sulu thought to himself, his mind clearing. At this point, he had no romantic interest left; instead, the unease inside him only grew stronger.

Whoosh!

A gentle breeze flowed through the small window, and the door to the private room shut quietly behind them.

Beatrice's expression softened slightly as she sat across from him, a playful smile curling at her lips. "Well, forget it... tell me, what surprise have you prepared for me tonight?"

‘Something’s even more off now,’ Sulu thought, already feeling the urge to stand up and leave.

Clearly, both he and Beatrice had been tricked into coming here. And the person pulling the strings behind it wasn’t done yet. There was undoubtedly a series of schemes waiting for him.

Just as Sulu stood up slightly, the wind outside grew even fiercer.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A cold, chilling presence seemed to spread from outside the window.

Beatrice’s playful smile disappeared in an instant, replaced by a look of fear. What had she seen?

A swirling mass of darkness, as though it had a life of its own, surged in through the window, connecting with the flickering shadows of the two figures, attaching itself to them.

"Can't... move..."

In an instant, Sulu's body went rigid. Though his mind was still active, he couldn’t move a single muscle.

Beatrice, sitting across from him, was similarly frozen. Her fearful expression remained locked in place, her eyes pleading in silent desperation, as though she were a motionless statue, carrying an absurd air.

But at that moment, Sulu couldn’t bring himself to smile.

Suddenly, his hand moved against his will. It rose up and grabbed the dinner knife from the table, driving it forward with an unnatural force.

Thud!

Under the control of the shadow, his arm seemed to gain terrifying strength. The knife pierced with overwhelming force, plunging directly into Beatrice’s chest.

Blood sprayed out in a gory fountain. Beatrice’s complexion turned ashen, yet she remained utterly still. Her pupils faded into despair, her gaze empty and distant.

She was dead...

Whoosh!

After carrying out the act, the dark shadow detached from the reflections of the two of them and swiftly escaped through the window gap.

Sulu regained control of his body, but he was unsure what to do next. He stared at the lifeless body of Beatrice, his face devoid of expression. "Miss... would you like a cup of coffee?"

...

Once he had made his sarcastic remark, the gravity of the situation struck him.

Beatrice was dead, stabbed through the heart. It had been too long; blood had pooled everywhere, and it was far too late to save her.

The barred window outside ruled out the possibility of anyone entering. This was a locked-room murder.

Unfortunately, he was the primary suspect.

Countless waiters at the café could testify that he had been with Beatrice when she died. He was the main suspect!

Should he try to explain that a black shadow had controlled him and forced him to kill Beatrice? But who would believe such a story?

Not to mention, the knife lodged in Beatrice’s heart had his fingerprints all over it.

With both witnesses and physical evidence against him, there was no way out. He was doomed! Was it too late to get a lawyer?

‘The black shadow... some kind of supernatural force! Is there someone with extraordinary abilities who holds a grudge against Beatrice, or is this an attack aimed at me?’ Sulu forced himself to calm down. It seemed more likely that Beatrice had attracted the attack.

After all, from what had just happened, he was completely helpless. If someone had a grudge against him, they could have easily finished the job with another strike.

But the murderer had left him alive, and it was clear that they intended for him to take the blame.

"Graduate and become a murderer?! This is certainly not the kind of development I envisioned..."

Sulu stared at the bloodstained floor and the lifeless body, his mind racing as he considered how to handle the aftermath.

Time was running out.

As a transmigrator, he had to admit that he possessed an unshakable resolve—his thoughts were still clear. "First, ruling out the option of calling the police. There’s no way I could explain this, and leaving my fate in the hands of others would be a foolish gamble."

"Running away? That would render all my efforts meaningless, not to mention the possibility that I might not even get away. After all, I'm just an ordinary person! Asking my family for help? That’s a potential route, but there’s no time..."

"Destroying the body? That might work. If the body’s gone, it could turn into a missing persons case, buying me more time. But how do I destroy it?"

If it were that simple to dispose of a body, there wouldn’t be so many abandoned corpse cases, and the perpetrators would not have been caught.

To erase all traces completely, Sulu would need access to a specialized high-temperature cremation furnace. That was impossible.

"Then... I’m left with only one choice, right? Bring the dead back to life!" Sulu thought, his expression cold. "As long as no one is truly dead, it wouldn’t be classified as a murder."

He walked over to the window, glancing outside. There were no signs of movement. The murderer had likely already left.

After a moment of contemplation, Sulu drew the curtains, locked the door, and fixed his gaze on the skill [Corpse Queen Creation Lv1] displayed in his attribute panel.

This skill allowed him to transform a female corpse into a corpse queen. Although it felt like a form of self-deception, it was certainly a better option than becoming a murderer himself.

Taking a deep breath, Sulu relied on his knowledge of black magic and began to prepare the ritual circle.

The materials needed for Corpse Queen Creation were simple: a fresh female corpse and the caster's blood.

To be honest, not only was the success rate of this low-level skill uncertain, but even if it succeeded, the aftermath would be troublesome.

According to the ritual’s instructions, once the spell was complete, all the blood would be absorbed back into the caster. At the very least, it would erase the current "first murder scene." As for what would happen afterward—Sulu couldn’t afford to dwell on that any longer.

"After all… it can't get any worse, can it?" he mused.

He picked up a small knife, cut his finger, and glanced at Beatrice’s lifeless body, marking a pentagram on her.

In the supernatural realm of this world, the pentagram held immense significance, symbolizing the mysteries of death and the underworld.

Following the instructions from the black magic scroll, aligning the points of the pentagram with the dark constellations in the sky would supposedly enhance the caster’s success rate.

Sulu had never studied astrology, so he could only act on instinct.

However, a sudden thought struck him, and he decided to orient the ritual towards the moon in the sky!

In the realm of the supernatural, the moon was a symbol of femininity, closely linked to death and darkness. Many magical creatures preferred to hunt under a full moon—this was a piece of lore from demon-hunting knowledge.