The footage continued, cutting to a room with four white walls. In the center sat a table, and before it sat a man who appeared to be in his early thirties. His clothes were wrinkled, dark circles hung beneath his eyes. He hunched his shoulders, hands wringing together anxiously, his gaze constantly darting away, unable to meet the eyes of the officer seated across from him.
The narration resumed: "Suspect Zhang Yunxiang, thirty-two years old, independent content creator."
Text appeared on screen like annotations: [Character setting: Timid, cowardly, lacking confidence. Bullied by colleagues at work but never fights back. Always feels he doesn't deserve his wife and fears she'll leave him.]
Yin Wuwang raised an eyebrow. Such a spineless creature is rare indeed. Xie Qingyan was also observing the man on screen. His demeanor certainly matched the description of "timid and cowardly"—the hunched shoulders, the wringing hands, the evasive gaze. Every detail radiated weakness.
On screen, the officer pushed a piece of paper toward Zhang Yunxiang: "This is your statement. Sign it."
Zhang Yunxiang stared at the paper, his face ashen, lips trembling: "I... I really..."
Suddenly the image distorted violently. Bzzt. When it cleared, it was still the same room, still the same Zhang Yunxiang—but his entire bearing had transformed. He sat ramrod straight, eyes burning with manic fire. He slammed the table and shot to his feet, pointing at the officer and screaming: "I killed him! He seduced my wife! I wanted him dead! I don't regret it one bit!" His voice was shrill and piercing, filled with hysterical hatred.
Yin Wuwang's brow furrowed deeper: "A moment ago he was cowering like a mouse. How did he suddenly become this raving lunatic?"
Xie Qingyan's expression also tightened. This is wrong. A person's temperament couldn't undergo such a dramatic transformation in an instant. The man just moments ago had been so timid he could barely string words together, yet in the next breath he'd become someone capable of bellowing in public? "A completely different person," he said. "No transition whatsoever."
"What kind of imbecile writes such drivel?" Yin Wuwang scoffed. "Even if a coward were driven to the brink, they couldn't suddenly transform like this. There should be some catalyst for the change."
The screen cut again, showing a man with a gentle smile—the deceased, Chen Wan. He stood behind a bar counter mixing drinks, warm lamplight casting a soft glow on his refined features. A faint smile played at his lips, making him appear thoroughly approachable.
The narration said: "A late-night healer, a warm presence—someone many patrons confided in."
Warm presence? Yin Wuwang puzzled over the strange term. Xie Qingyan was equally unfamiliar with it, but judging from the visuals, it seemed to describe someone of gentle temperament who treated others kindly.
The next instant, the image violently warped. Bzzt. The same face, but now the smile had turned sleazy. Chen Wan had his arm around a woman's waist, leaning close to whisper in her ear, his gaze suggestive and dissolute. The narration changed: "A playboy who toys with women's hearts, having abandoned countless girls." Bzzt. The image shifted again. Chen Wan stood in the rain, drenched to the bone, his expression anguished. He gazed at a woman's retreating figure in the distance, his eyes filled with despair and agony. The narration changed once more: "A pitiful soul who sacrificed everything to protect his beloved."
The three scenes began flickering wildly—the gentle Chen Wan, the sleazy Chen Wan, the anguished Chen Wan. Three identical faces, three utterly different expressions, overlapping, tearing apart, distorting across the screen.
"What is this now?" Yin Wuwang watched the constantly shifting face. "First they say he's kind and gentle, then he becomes a shameless libertine, then he transforms into a devoted lover? One person with three completely contradictory personalities?"
Xie Qingyan stared at the distorting images, a cold glint passing through his eyes. This wasn't merely a plot hole—the character himself was disintegrating. A character assigned three mutually exclusive personalities couldn't even know who he was. Such contradiction would tear the character's existence apart, ultimately causing the entire world to collapse.
"No wonder the world is falling apart," he said coldly. "When characters don't even know who they are, how can the story possibly hold together?"
The television screen shook violently. Chen Wan's face shattered into countless points of light, then dissolved into static. The two waited. The image remained nothing but noise.
"What about the rest?" Yin Wuwang asked.
Little Deer Assistant 9527's voice came through, tinged with resignation: "There is no rest. The author couldn't continue. They stopped updating."
Yin Wuwang's mouth twisted. Stopped updating? This author wrote a pile of garbage settings, dug a mountain of plot holes, then ran away? He grabbed a small rectangular object from the table, weighed it in his hand, and hurled it at the television. "How do we fix this piece of junk?" Thunk. The object bounced off the screen and clattered to the floor. The television remained unchanged—still nothing but static.
Xie Qingyan turned to look at him: "...Didn't think there were enough point deductions?"
Yin Wuwang paused: "I was testing whether it would make the playback continue."
"By throwing things at it?"
Yin Wuwang rubbed his nose and fell silent.
Little Deer Assistant 9527 offered mournfully: "Um... what you just threw was the remote control. It's used to operate the television. The TV isn't broken—that's simply where the original plot ends."
Yin Wuwang glanced at the remote control on the floor, then looked away with an impassive expression. Fine. A mere mortal trinket. Not worth getting worked up over.
"So this is the case we need to investigate?" Xie Qingyan spoke up. "Unknown cause of death, invalid motive for murder, contradictory victim personality... We're supposed to fix all of this?"
"Yes!" Little Deer Assistant 9528 responded earnestly. "Solve the case using modern methods and guide the plot toward a logical conclusion. Um... I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but that should be it!"
Xie Qingyan nodded slightly and asked no further questions. This artifact spirit spoke somewhat differently from the one in the previous world—always vague and uncertain—but he grasped the core meaning. He needed to find the true cause of death, the true killer, the true motive—using logic, using deduction, using mortal methods. This wasn't unfamiliar to him. On Canopy Peak, handling sect affairs often required deducing the truth from scattered clues. The only difference this time was that he had no spiritual power to rely on, no immortal techniques to fall back on. Pure intellect against intellect.
Yin Wuwang watched Xie Qingyan's contemplative expression and thought to himself: This case might have a script messier than a dog's breakfast, but with Fuguang here, it shouldn't be difficult. He turned to look out the window, only now noticing the view outside. Night had fallen. This world was completely unlike the cultivation realm—only densely packed towers and countless flickering lights. Without magic, those towers still stood taller than any palace he'd ever seen. Those lights weren't candlelight or spiritual glow, but a luminescence he'd never encountered before—cold and bright, like stars fallen from the heavens into the mortal realm.
He turned to see Xie Qingyan had come to stand beside him, gazing at the brilliant night vista outside the window.
"It's very bright. Different from both the cultivation world and the ancient world," he said.
Yin Wuwang blinked, caught off guard. It was rare to hear Fuguang express wonder.
"Yes, it is," he replied.
Xie Qingyan gazed at those lights, and a strange feeling arose within him. Mortals lived their brief lives of barely a century, yet they had found their own way to illuminate the darkness, filling an entire city with light. Perhaps Elder Mo was right. One shouldn't underestimate mortals.
Yin Wuwang withdrew his gaze and continued surveying this modern world with casual interest. A mortal world. A mortal case. How hard could it possibly be?
[End of V2_Chapter 03]
Next: Time to visit the crime scene. But first—how do you operate a "car"?