The April morning in Linchuan was still a bit chilly.
Elon Taylor hunched his shoulders slightly and took a few big gulps of the steaming soy milk in his hand, finally feeling a trace of warmth.
“Woo-woo… Woo-woo…”
police siren
“Wee-woo… Wee-woo…”
ambulance siren
A burst of urgent sirens pierced the air.
Elon turned his head just in time to see two police cars and an ambulance speeding past.
"A big case this early in the morning?" he muttered, instinctively quickening his pace.
This wasn’t just curiosity speaking—it was pure reflex.
To explain that, you'd need to know about Elon Taylor's past.
In his previous life, he would've been a near twenty-year veteran of the police force.
Countless solved cases, countless commendations.
Three-time champion in national police competitions, repeatedly recognized as a "Crime Nemesis," "Case-breaking Vanguard," and one of the "Top 10 Outstanding Officers of the Year."
With credentials like that, he might not have been world-famous, but he was certainly a name to be proud of.
If he’d stayed on that trajectory, retirement would’ve likely come with white-collared distinction and a peaceful, well-earned life ahead. Elon Taylor never imagined he'd end up in this mess during a simple domestic dispute call.
Trying to protect the victim, he got knocked out cold by an enraged husband wielding a chair.
When he woke up, everything had changed—he wasn’t the seasoned officer he used to be but now a soon-to-graduate police academy student in another world.
Was he bitter about it? Not exactly.
To be honest, if he hadn’t ended up here, he wouldn’t have had the guts to face his old colleagues again. Being a renowned cop in the force, taken down by an average guy? That’s beyond humiliating. It’s like a pro driver crashing on a straight road—utterly absurd!
Sure, the accolades and awards back in his old life were nice, but aside from those collecting dust in a cabinet, there wasn’t much worth missing.
Two failed marriages—yep, you read that right—two. Not because he had poor judgment in partners, but because being the head of a serious crimes unit meant constant overtime and endless nights at the office. Days, sometimes weeks on the road. His ex-wives would probably need a photo to even remember what he looked like.
By the time the second divorce hit, Elon was already 37. He’d seen the reality of it all and decided enough was enough. Why drag another person down this chaotic rabbit hole? Better to fly solo than keep ruining someone else’s peace.Except for the colleagues he'd worked with for years, Elon Taylor's departure probably wouldn’t leave much of an impression on anyone. Well, maybe the neighborhood security guard might remember him every now and then.
After all, Elon was that one guy who constantly forgot his entry card and never seemed to get enough of ringing the guard out of bed in the middle of the night to unlock the gates. Honestly, the old man was probably so relieved to be rid of him that he'd pick up a can of beer to celebrate. Whether he'd splurge on some peanuts with it, though—that was no longer Elon’s concern.
On the bright side, it seemed like the crossing-over had thrown in a little bonus as an apology gift. Right after regaining his memories, Elon had been handed a system called "Nemesis of Crime."
The concept was simple: the more cases Elon solved and the better the quality of his work, the greater the rewards the system would grant him.
Since he wasn’t officially employed yet, there hadn’t been any rewards. Instead, the stingy system tossed him a newbie gift pack and unlocked a special skill called "Eye of Truth."
Apparently, this skill would kick in whenever Elon identified something out of the ordinary, highlighting clues in the surroundings. He wasn’t sure how reliable it would be when it really mattered, but he figured if nothing else, it might be handy enough for finding a lost cat or barking up the right tree for a missing dog.
Today was his first day heading to report for duty. Never would he have guessed that something significant was already waiting for him on his way there.It was impossible to cure the occupational habit. If he didn't go have a look, even taking a dump later wouldn't feel right.
Curiosity—it's a trait rooted deeply in every soul here.
After all, since ancient times, people pay to watch drama. Now, here's a free show—how could anyone not stop and take a little peek?
Elon Taylor pushed through, squeezing and dodging with all his might, finally carving out a path away from the crowd of old folks.
What lay ahead was a wrecked sedan, its front completely crushed. Nearby, a middle-aged man lay twisted and bloodied on the ground. Pieces of car parts scattered across the area.
"Whoa, that's brutal!" A grandpa shook his head, popping a peanut into his mouth like it was no big deal.
"Terrible, poor fella—so young, just gone like that." An elderly woman muttered as she sat idly on a low stool, plucking veggies.
The grandpa next to her went a step further. Bowl of noodles in one hand, he slurped away undeterred, not sparing the gruesome scene a second thought.
"Alright, folks! Everyone listen up—we need you to step back. This is an accident scene; your cooperation would be appreciated." A young officer’s voice rang out, loud and firm. Elon reflexively said, "Sir, ma'am, please step back! This is a crime scene; nothing worth watching with that much blood around."
"You step back too."
"Me?" Elon pointed at himself, looking surprised.
"Yes, you. Don’t you realize you’ve crossed the police line? Hold onto your pancake. It’s about to hit the ground. Young folks these days, always so nosy." The young officer gave Elon a dismissive look.
Feeling awkward, Elon chuckled and quickly stepped back behind the police tape.
Only after that did he remember—he was just a rookie who hadn’t officially joined the force yet.
Several officers were combing through the scene carefully, looking for any details they might piece together.
Elon’s eyes scanned the area swiftly.
The victim. The vehicle. The surroundings. The cameras...
Nearby, a middle-aged officer and a traffic cop were talking in low voices.
"Captain Zhang, sorry to trouble you so early," said the traffic cop with an apologetic smile.
The officer shook his hand and sighed lightly. "Captain Liu, you're not wrong about it being a hassle. Early mornings and stuff like this... who’d want that?"
"What’s the situation so far? Did the driver have alcohol in their system?"
"No," Captain Liu shook his head. "From the looks of it, the scene doesn’t have any obvious signs of foul play." "The driver wasn’t drunk, nor was he under the influence of drugs. Preliminary judgment suggests it was a case of a high-speed accident."
The middle-aged police officer gave a small nod. "Hmm, matches what we found during the scene investigation. But we’ll still need to take the driver back for processing.
Hey, Jack, coordinate with the traffic unit, sign off on the accident report, and then we’re good to leave. Morning rush is about to hit, so let’s have the traffic guys clean up the mess quickly.”
“Wait!”
Elon Taylor raised his voice suddenly, breaking the steady rhythm of commands.
Captain Fox stopped mid-step, turning his head sharply to stare at Elon with a puzzled look. “Young man, what’s going on?”
“The site shouldn’t be cleared yet! This isn’t a typical traffic accident—it’s murder!”
Elon’s statement hung heavy in the air, freezing everyone on the spot as disbelief painted the officers’ faces.
Fox’s expression hardened as he gestured for Elon to approach. “Kid, come over here.”
Elon stepped over the cordon casually but confidently, eyes locked with the police group ahead.
“Officer Fox, from the Linchuan South Precinct Criminal Investigation Team. How exactly do you know this was a murder? Are you withholding information?” Fox fired off questions with narrowed eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.
