After three or four hours of work, the footage on the videotape finally appeared before Walter Reed.

Right at the start, there were subtitles—two lines of utterly nonsensical text: “This film is personally produced by me. Please remember every detail in the film; it will be of great help to you in the near future.”

Next came the signature of this “me”—Ethan, along with an unknown address.

The film on the videotape wasn’t particularly scary, though one could say that if this plot happened in real life, it would be quite terrifying.

There were only two characters in the film, both 3D models created by computer, looking like little doodled figures with round heads and clearly polygonal edges on their bodies. Each character was a single color, probably to distinguish them—one was orange, the other purple. There wasn’t a single line of dialogue throughout the film, not even any sound effects. It was just like something a child would make.

However, while the character designs were casual, the scenes were incredibly realistic. The school was unmistakably the high school that Walter Reed attended, with every flower and blade of grass on the playground faithfully recreated. As for all the objects the characters used, the detail was extreme, as if the real items were right in front of you. Even though computer visual effects in 2100 were already highly advanced, this level of realism could only be seen in top-tier blockbusters.

Walter Reed, sweating coldly, finished watching the entire film. It wasn’t very long; in the end, the orange figure killed the purple one.

A gap left with transparent tape on the first-floor window ledge, tripwires, hiding spots, the strangling motion, methods of disposing of the body… every detail was presented before Walter Reed. Many parts were shown in close-up slow motion, such as the way the orange figure gripped the rope before lunging, the total length of the rope, how many times it was wrapped around the palm to ensure the middle section was easier to handle when strangling from behind, and so on… These scenes seemed deliberately designed to remind Walter Reed to remember them well.

But why?

Walter Reed couldn’t figure it out, so he watched the tape over and over. What connection did this have to what happened on September 4th last year? Why did that Ethan want him to see this?

By 7:30, the sun was fully up. By then, Walter Reed had watched the videotape at least ten times, still “gaining nothing”—at least, that’s what he thought at the time.

Today was also a day off. Walter Reed glanced at the time, then went to the bathroom to freshen up, took that card, and left home again.

Chapter 9: Burning Sins

December 13th, noon, Ethan’s bookstore.

A man in a leather jacket with a scruffy beard pushed open the door.

He walked straight to the owner’s desk and said, “You’re under arrest.”

Ethan wasn’t reading that day, just sitting there leisurely drinking coffee, as if he had long been waiting for this moment.

“Officer Owen Brooks, is it? Long time no see.”

Owen Brooks replied, “Hmph, you knew I’d come?”

“Of course I knew.” Ethan rested his chin on one hand, calm and composed.

“If you knew I’d come and didn’t run, that means you’ve either accepted your guilt or you’re a complete lunatic.”

“I’m not crazy. The world is.”

“Whatever you say.” Owen Brooks pulled out a pair of handcuffs and tossed them on the desk. “Are you going to put them on yourself, or do I have to do it?”

“Do you have a warrant?” Ethan remained completely unmoved.

“Hahahaha…” Owen Brooks actually couldn’t help but laugh. “Someone like you is talking to me about legal procedures?”

Ethan didn’t laugh. “So you do know your actions are illegal.”

Owen Brooks instantly stopped laughing, drew his gun from its holster, and aimed it at Ethan’s forehead. “This is my law!”

Ethan slumped in his chair and applauded calmly. “No, that’s not law. That’s justice.” He finally smiled. “Law is just a tool, written on paper, serving those in power, ready to be used, changed, or abolished at any time. But justice—its meaning goes far beyond that.”

Owen Brooks’s hand holding the gun remained steady. “Then before justice blows your brains out, put on the handcuffs and accept the punishment of the law.”

“I’m not finished yet.” Ethan stood up.

Owen Brooks warily took half a step back, his gun tracking Ethan’s movements, never wavering from his head.

Ethan walked unhurriedly to the bookshelf at the side. “But I have to say, justice is the thing I loathe and detest the most. It’s nothing but a human illusion.” He pointed at Owen Brooks. “You stick to a broad set of moral and ethical standards, derive your sense of right and wrong, good and evil, hypnotize yourself with the word ‘justice,’ turn it into a faith, and convince yourself that every action, every choice you make is the right one.

To put it bluntly, it’s just a more sophisticated form of hypocrisy.”

He took four black books from the shelf, placed them on the desk, then walked to a corner of the room, crouched down, and opened a cabinet.