Chapter 6: A Contract? Not Even a Dog Would Sign!

As soon as Lin Bing finished speaking, she declared the official start of the investigation. The camera instantly zoomed in on the live broadcast van. The door opened with a click, and three people filed out one after another, each more eccentric than the last, leaving Chen Yu dumbfounded.

The leader wore a perfectly tailored three-piece British suit, topped with a refined brown deerstalker hat, and a gold-rimmed monocle perched on his nose. Despite his youthful appearance, he leaned heavily on a sophisticated black cane, feigning a maturity beyond his years. Chen Yu’s eye twitched; was this some early-onset senile Sherlock Holmes?

Following him was a man with an aged look—deep nasolabial folds and crow’s feet etched by time, all speaking of life’s relentless passage. Yet Chen Yu estimated he was only about twenty-five or twenty-six, just prematurely weathered. This “young uncle” clamped a dark red meerschaum pipe nearly half the size of his fist between his teeth, walked with measured, dignified steps, like an old-school gentleman straight out of a retro TV set.

“Pretentious,” Chen Yu silently scoffed.

Last came a girl whose style was worlds apart from her companions—a rebellious punk. Her twin ponytails, dyed in all the colors of the rainbow, stuck out defiantly; her face was painted in bold gothic makeup. She wore a bare-midriff crop top so tight it seemed to be painted on, and the shortest of denim hot pants. But nothing drew the eye more than her long legs sheathed in black fishnet stockings, ending in sky-high platforms. She chewed bubblegum noisily, occasionally blowing huge pink bubbles.

“My god…” Chen Yu’s mouth twitched uncontrollably. “Are these people here to solve a case?” “Are you sure this isn’t a cosplay troupe from some comic convention?”

He stared blankly at the trio, so eccentric they could be called “dragons and phoenixes in disguise,” his mind momentarily frozen. The three “master-level” contestants glared back at him with undisguised hostility.

Chen Yu felt utterly aggrieved. How was he to know that his sudden “return from the dead” and “escape” had destroyed the only piece of evidence—and completely overshadowed the “professionals” on the show? It was as if disaster had descended from the heavens as he sat in the locked room.

Lin Bing, seeing the show finally stumbling onto the “right track,” quietly let out a huge sigh of relief. She turned to Chen Yu, who still looked bewildered, and teased in a sweet, gossipy voice, “Hey, little brother, tell your sister, what’s going on? Why did you stop being an extra and suddenly steal the contestants’ thunder?”

Her voice was so saccharine it could have been wrung for syrup.

“Um… well…” Chen Yu glanced at the still-lit camera nearby. “Don’t worry, the shot’s switched to the contestants now, they can’t hear us,” Lin Bing snorted.

“Yeah, right!” Chen Yu cursed inwardly. “If I knew what was going on, would I be here acting with you?”

He forced an innocent, confused smile, scratching his head. “Well… I think… I drank a bit too much last night and… right! Then I just lost my memory! I don’t remember anything at all!”

Even as he said it, he felt his toes could dig a three-bedroom apartment out of sheer embarrassment. Should he tell her he was from another world? That he’d activated some sort of Detective System? And that the original owner’s memories hadn’t been transferred to him? That sounded even more like insanity than memory loss.

---

“Amnesia, huh?” Lin Bing laughed lightly, her eyes silently saying, “keep spinning your story.” She changed the topic, “Alright, whether you remember or not, come into the van and sign the contract.”

“Contract? What contract?” Chen Yu frowned, instantly on guard.

“You’re not just an extra anymore—you’re our show’s rising star! Of course you need a formal contestant agreement. If you run away or something happens, we need rules to follow, right?” Lin Bing’s smile bloomed like a flower.

“You must be kidding! Turning crime investigation into entertainment? Where’s the integrity? Where’s the decency?” Chen Yu protested solemnly, voice ringing with righteousness. “This kind of trash contract? Not even a dog would sign it!” He rolled his eyes so far they nearly disappeared, his face full of disdain.

“You sure?” Lin Bing asked. “Solve the case and the prize is one million.”

“...”

Next second, inside the broadcast van.

“Not even a dog would sign—but I will! Where do I sign?” Chen Yu declared.

Sitting nearby, Yan Zheng’s square face twitched violently. Any professional or decisive impression he’d just formed of this young man instantly shattered.

“Pretty lady,” Chen Yu said, taking the contract from Lin Bing as he signed, “What’s the deal with that locked room? Why all the mystery?”

“That’s the actual crime scene—the place where entrepreneur Luo Xiangdong was killed eleven years ago. You played the role of his corpse.” Lin Bing blinked, feigning surprise. “Really? You don’t remember a thing?”

“Uh, I swear, I really have amnesia, I’m not lying!” Chen Yu insisted, but his hand jerked as he signed.

“Wait!” He looked up at Lin Bing, voice trembling. “You—you just said… the locked room is the real crime scene?”

“Mhm!” Lin Bing’s big innocent eyes widened, drawing out her reply.

“So… the photo frame and photos I burned… those were… real evidence?” Chen Yu’s tongue nearly tied itself in knots.

“Mhm~!” Lin Bing grinned like a mischievous fox, her eyes twinkling with the thrill of drama.

Boom—!

It felt as if a thunderclap exploded in Chen Yu’s skull.

Damn it all!

Four years in police academy—how could he not know the gravity of destroying evidence? And he’d done it live, before millions, burning everything to ashes! He knew this script well: prison tears guaranteed, with a soundtrack of “Withered Chrysanthemums” on repeat!

“Cough, cough!”

Just as Chen Yu, drenched in cold sweat and mentally playing through his release from prison, Yan Zheng, who’d been silent, suddenly coughed twice, heavy as hammer blows.

Startled, Chen Yu nearly flipped backward on the spot. He turned stiffly to look at the stern, square-faced man in a crisp navy uniform—a real officer—and his heart sank.

“Looks like the show’s got everything covered—even the arrest procedure! The officer’s already in position, just waiting for the command!”

---

Sure enough, Yan Zheng spoke, his voice utterly flat, each word squeezed out like from clenched teeth:

“Name!”

“Gender!”

“Age!”

“Place of origin!”

“Identity card number! Speak!”

This was familiar territory! Chen Yu forced a smile uglier than crying, facing Officer Yan Zheng with utmost sincerity:

“Well… sir! If I said I really just drank too much last night, and woke up with no memory, didn’t know this was a crime investigation reality show, didn’t know the room was a real crime scene, and absolutely, absolutely didn’t know the photo I burned was precious evidence…”

“Would you… believe me?”

“Ha!” Yan Zheng sneered.

He’d seen hundreds, if not a thousand, slick suspects trying to bluff their way out. He ignored Chen Yu’s excuses, pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and calmly gave instructions. After hanging up, he said nothing more, his sharp gaze locked onto Chen Yu, as if seeing through his soul.

Chen Yu felt as if he’d been stripped naked and thrown into the snow—every hair screaming danger.

Interrogation psychology! This was classic pressure—silent, sustained eye contact to break the suspect’s defenses and force a confession!

He’d already cursed the original owner and the entire show’s ancestors, especially the heartless original owner—if you’re going to cross over, at least leave me your memories!

Locked room terror at the start, escape immediately followed by a prison sentence—what a godforsaken beginning!

Each second stretched into eternity. Sweat beaded on Chen Yu’s forehead, his back soaked—though, come to think of it, he wasn’t wearing a shirt…

“Ring, ring—”

Just as Chen Yu was suffocating, Yan Zheng’s phone rang again, shattering the oppressive silence.

Yan Zheng answered, grunting a few times, his expression shifting from icy to… oddly perplexed. Hanging up, he looked at Chen Yu with bewilderment.

“You…” Yan Zheng paused, searching for words, his brow knotted, “Based on the information we just verified, and the records provided by the production team…”

He took a deep breath, staring at Chen Yu as if he’d seen a ghost.

“You… seem… to actually be innocent…”