Murder, Rewind

In my previous life, I was overwhelmed by fear and despair. By the time I was dragged through the police station and into the detention center, my mind already went numb. All I could remember was that the person who died seemed to be a local.

The officer frowned.

"Still pretending at a time like this? He wasn't just anyone–he was a respected village doctor."

I froze. Confusion hit me like a wave.

I never even met this man–how could he have died at my hands?

A witness, trembling with rage, spoke up.

"When you threw the suitcase, didn't you say you were feeling unwell from altitude sickness and came to see this famous doctor? But he told you your problem was that you weren't man enough–that's why you couldn't handle it."

"You got furious, killed him, chopped him into eighteen pieces, and even called your lover to prove your manhood. That's what you were doing in the car!"

"You're insane–this is beyond inhuman!"

So that was it.

The real killer staged an entire performance just to fabricate a motive for me. And he did it in such an exaggerated, public way that no one would question it.

A thought struck me like lightning.

In my previous life, I went out that day, but I did not mention anything about altitude sickness.

This time, I changed my plans on the fly, and the killer still anticipated it and used it against me.

That meant only one thing–he knew my movements.

As the officers moved to push me into the police car, I heard my parents and my child crying out behind me.

A memory flashed through my mind–after I was taken away in my last life, they were beaten to death by the victim's family.

My entire body went cold.

I struggled free and rushed toward them.

"Mom, Dad, I'm innocent!"

"It's not safe for you to stay here. Once I'm gone, you must get the police to send you home immediately!"

Tears streamed down their faces as they held my child, looking at me helplessly.

"We believe you! We know you didn't do it! We'll wait at the guesthouse for you to come back!"

Hannah composed herself and slipped back into her usual gentle demeanor.

"Just go cooperate with the investigation. If you're innocent, the police will clear your name. Don't worry–I'll take care of your parents here."

They were determined to stay.

Panic surged through me.

If I left with the police now, my family would die.

If I wanted to break this deadlock, I had to find the real killer–immediately.

I clenched my fists, pounding my head lightly as I forced myself to breathe, to calm down.

Slowly, I switched into the mindset I trusted most–my engineer's way of thinking.

If I could solve something as complex as building rockets, then with this setup, I could crack it.

I realized that everything about this case–the background, the motive–was just fed to me through the police and the witness.

A perfect loop.

The killer knew that once I got to the station, I would try to dismantle the story. So he built it airtight.

I took every piece of information I just heard and broke it down like components in a system, reconstructing it over and over in my mind.

There had to be a single point–a central node where all the details intersected.

That was where the truth was hidden.

I lifted my head and scanned the crowd.

Then my eyes lit up.

I raised my hand and pointed straight at someone.

"It's him."