At the very beginning, Wayne Baker refused the identity of a detective. The original owner was a latecomer to the profession, and so was he. He planned to take a shortcut, to become an inventor and live a life of ease on patent royalties.

The result was not great. He was also a latecomer in the field of invention. The things he could think of—like rubber bands, paper clips, mosquito coils, zippers, band-aids, and other small items—had already been patented by someone else.

It was absurd. Why were the natives so smart?

Helpless, in order to quickly fill his pockets and avoid starving to death, Wayne Baker had no choice but to start learning to become a qualified detective.

Here, he had to give some credit to the original owner: a big spender, fully equipped with all kinds of detective gear, and the bookshelf was packed with all sorts of criminal investigation books, from beginner to behind bars.

There were also quite a few famous detective novels.

Although Wayne Baker's professional skills were limited, he was dedicated to whatever he did. Fueled by his hatred of potatoes, he worked extremely hard.

Perhaps it was a benefit of transmigration—his learning ability was astonishing, and his thinking was much sharper than before. Simple investigations were no challenge for him at all, and his agile body allowed him to easily climb over walls and sneak into courtyards, hiding outside balcony windows to secretly take photos.

His agility had nothing to do with transmigration; it was an instinct etched into his muscles by the original owner. Judging by his time in the little black room, it was clear the police hadn't caught the wrong person—if anything, they just hadn't kept him locked up long enough.

Wayne Baker's transmigration came with another perk.

A book!

It floated quietly inside him, its exact location unknown—maybe in his brain, maybe in his heart, or perhaps somewhere among his organs.

[Book of Greed]

Speaking of this book, one had to mention that stormy night.

Before transmigrating, Wayne Baker was a programmer. He saw his peers firing their bosses before the age of thirty-five, with many doing quite well for themselves. So, he and a colleague decided to quit and team up to make a small game.

Joseph Parker: You have to start a business early. Instead of waiting for the boss to fire us, why don't we fire him and go make games?

Wayne Baker: Makes sense.

The Book of Greed was an in-game item. Out of a mischievous desire to create an Easter egg, the two of them put a lot of effort into the Book of Greed, stuffing it full of bugs. The code was self-contradictory, yet somehow it still ran.

One bug is a bug; a pile of bugs is a feature!

When they finished, the two of them were overjoyed in front of their screens, talking on the phone while waiting for the game to go live on the platform, dreaming of becoming chairmen and cashing out after going public.

Whether Joseph Parker would get to cash out was uncertain, but Wayne Baker definitely wouldn't. He didn't know if it was lightning or an electric shock, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in the Land of the Chosen.

"Joseph Parker, Joseph Parker, if you ever get rich, don't forget me. During the holidays, remember to burn a few offerings for me..."

"Or maybe I'll burn a few for you."

Wayne Baker closed his eyes. With a thought, the Book of Greed, its cover pitch black and veined with blood-red lines, appeared before his eyes.

The material was unknown. The cover was bumpy and uneven, slightly damp and sticky, very much like the back of a toad.

"It wasn't like this at first. Has it mutated?"

Wayne Baker tried to open the book, but as with his previous attempts, he couldn't do it. Only the eyeball embedded in the cover slowly focused and looked at him.

There were many similar eyeballs. All the raised bumps on the cover were tightly shut eyes, except for the large one in the center, which would respond to his gaze.

But only by staring back.

He had transmigrated, had a cheat, but couldn't use it!

The more Wayne Baker thought about it, the angrier he got. He stabbed his fork again and again, mashing the diced potatoes into mashed potatoes.

Even angrier now—one less dish!

Wayne Baker put down his fork and sighed, "Why is my life nothing but setback after setback, and endless hard work? Why is Lady Laina the only one providing long-term financial aid? Isn't there a noble lady who'll run away from home, get lost at my doorstep, and offer me money to take her in?"

Bang bang bang—

The office door was knocked. Through the dim glass, a black shadow lurked outside.

"Gulp!"

Wayne Baker suddenly felt a chill, his scalp tingling as he swallowed nervously and took a bite of mashed potatoes to calm himself.

If he remembered correctly, he had locked the door.

Chapter Two: Blonde Twin Tails

Wayne Baker remembered very clearly that the detective agency's front door was tightly locked, with the lock fastened from the inside.

Lundan City had many urban legends: a subway station leading to hell, a headless horseman wandering in the mist, man-eating alleys, vast underground tombs, and so on.

These sensational urban legends only appeared at night. Sharing the city with the citizens of Lundan, the daytime belonged to the citizens, and the night belonged to them. Both sides minded their own business, never interfering with each other. But if someone broke the rules and trespassed on the other's territory, they would vanish overnight, never to be seen again.

When it came to these urban legends, the dock workers would tell the stories with vivid detail, as if they had witnessed them themselves.

In the past three months, Wayne Baker had heard quite a few urban legends. Since he hadn't seen any with his own eyes, he scoffed at them. But since it cost nothing, he decided to believe a little.

He followed local customs, locking the door tightly every night to avoid close encounters with urban legends.

After all, it was free—might as well believe a bit.

Bang bang bang—

The knocking sounded again, much more urgent than before, as if the person outside would keep knocking until Wayne Baker opened the door.