The night was beautiful, even if it was dangerous.
The bright moonlight, filtering through the pure white window screen, illuminated a handsome face that could rival even the most charming reader.
In a room on the first floor of a high-end apartment complex in Miwa-machi, Byakuya bathed in the moonlight, waking from his slumber.
“My head hurts…”
Byakuya, opening his eyes, pressed against his throbbing head, as if he had a hangover, and slowly sat up.
As Byakuya got up, he rubbed his temples, trying to recall, and then looked bewildered.
Huh, didn’t I drown? How am I still alive? And where is this place?
Forget it, I’ll think about it later. The main thing is I’m alive, lucky!
Continuing to rub his temples, Byakuya’s spirit gradually recovered.
With his spirits restored, Byakuya stood up and began to examine his unfamiliar surroundings.
It was a Japanese room with tatami mats. Judging by its size, it was clearly a single-occupancy room. The room’s décor and furniture, though somewhat old-fashioned, were elegant and luxurious, suggesting a high-end apartment.
Byakuya walked to the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and slowly looked in the mirror.
Oh, magic mirror, magic mirror, how can there be such a handsome man in the world? How will other men even survive?
Well, I’m still the guy who wakes up to his own handsomeness every day. Wait, something’s wrong. There’s suddenly a mole near my eye, and if you look closely, my features seem younger.
The man in the mirror was still handsome, but clearly something was amiss. Coupled with the unfamiliar Japanese room, the tatami mat he saw for the first time, the extra mole, and his younger features.
So this is… a time travel? And not a rebirth, but a cross-over into my own counterpart? (Good, the pitfalls of soul-crossing have been avoided as much as possible. There’s also a handsome sense of immersion, perfect!)
After standing before the mirror for a while, Byakuya slowly came to his senses.
Byakuya returned to the room, took out the contents of his pockets, and spread them out on the table, hoping to find clues to determine the identity of his original self.
The flip phone, in Byakuya’s understanding, was considered an antique. Opening it, there was only a date display, but no year.
Initial judgment suggests that the time period is likely around the turn of the millennium.
Of course, there’s also the possibility of a parallel world.
According to Byakuya's 'bold conjecture, careful verification' personality, he wouldn't jump to conclusions before a thorough investigation.
In his wallet was a rectangular driver’s license, valid until Heisei 30.
The paper was slightly yellowed, with four large characters printed in the name section:
Suzuki Byakuya.
Oh, he’s also called Byakuya. As expected of my counterpart.
At the sight of the name, Byakuya's mind was flooded with unfamiliar scenes.
Young Abin,呸呸呸, no, it should be the landlady, a beautiful young woman, married woman cheating, the scoundrel delighted…
And the scoundrel seems to be 'myself'.
The memories were like shattered glass, fragmented and broken.
“Hiss~”
Byakuya felt a sharp pain and temporarily stopped recalling.
From the scattered clues, he deduced that 'himself' was quite wealthy.
At least in terms of finances, it was much better than his own situation before the time travel.
After resting for a moment, Byakuya continued his inspection.
In his pocket were keys, a handkerchief, condoms, and a lot of Japanese yen coins, indicating that 'himself' was very hygienic and had a rich emotional life.
There were scratches on the right wrist and both sides of the back, with purple paint on the bruises, suspected to be a woman’s nail polish.
Tsk, the picture is coming together now.
Byakuya stared at the objects on the table, lost in thought.
“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
A woman's shrill scream interrupted his thoughts.
Byakuya was startled, turned his head towards the source of the sound:
“Hmm?”
He hesitated for a moment before deciding to go and have a look. But before going out, he should put on a jacket.
The top shelf of the closet was a row of white shirts, below were black shirts, black pants, and a black hat. It was really versatile.
Byakuya grumbled in his heart, but his movements were not slow.
He threw on a black coat, put on a black hat, and with the air of a bodyguard in black, walked to the entrance.
The cabinet was full of men's shoes, and on the bottom layer were two pairs of small, white cotton slippers.
They looked like they were meant for a woman, indicating that 'himself' lived alone and often brought women home.
As he thought, Byakuya pushed open the door.
The source of the screams was the room next door, also on the first floor of the apartment.
He rushed over, and the first thing he saw was a woman dressed as a cleaning lady.
“Dead… Dead!”
Her words were incoherent, and she sat dumbly at the entrance to the room.
Soon, six enthusiastic citizens entered the courtyard attached to the first floor of the apartment building.
Someone took out their phone to call the police, while others stepped forward to inquire with concern:
“You look so scared, you must be from out of town.”
The cleaning lady was still in shock, her gaze upturned, particularly dazed:
“This… what… what does it have to do with being from out of town?”
A portly, middle-aged man shook his head, changing the subject directly:
“The thing to do now is to make sure the victim is dead, to see if we can save them.”
He looked towards the depths of the living room, saying seriously,
“People die every day in Miwa City, it’s not normal if there’s no murder.”
The people around him echoed his sentiment:
“That’s right, stop sitting here, let’s go see.”
The cleaning lady was completely bewildered, apparently forgetting to confirm.
She turned her neck, pointed upwards with her finger to indicate a location:
“In… in the bedroom.”
The portly man waved his right hand, leading the group inside.
Byakuya followed behind them, pondering the previous statement.
People die every day and it’s normal?
It seems like the public security in Miwa City is really terrible.
The style of the interior decor was similar to his own room, with dark brown wooden furniture giving a sense of rusticity.
A lace-edged dish held leftover food, with half a purple mushroom immersed in a dark brown liquid, suspected to be beef sauce.
The wine was more than half-full, and the corkscrew was still hanging on the cork.
Byakuya looked around, his brow furrowed slightly, as if he was familiar with the surroundings.
Did 'himself' know the owner of this house?
The living room turned right at the end, leading to the bedroom. The door was unlocked, open at a forty-five-degree angle.
A strong smell of blood wafted out from inside.
Byakuya squeezed to the edge of the door and peered inside.
The crime scene was in disarray, with underwear and bras scattered everywhere.
The wrinkled crimson sheets were like rolling flames, and in the center of the vortex lay a naked woman with fair skin and a stunning figure.
Her left hand reached above her head, her index finger pointing upwards, and there was a terrifying wound on her back, like a punctured tomato.
The killer must have attacked from behind, and the victim didn’t put up much resistance before she died.
The crimson blood soaked into the sheets of the same color, the collision of blood and flesh had a strange beauty.
The victim had delicate features and a fiery figure that couldn't be hidden. Her untimely demise was a pity.
Suddenly, Suzuki Byakuya’s brows furrowed tightly.
Various memories flashed through his mind, out of the blue.
Not only in the bedroom, but also in the kitchen, living room, balcony, and the small grove of trees in the courtyard on the first floor of the apartment…
It was like lightning striking the ground, it couldn’t be stopped.
Those disjointed images made Byakuya’s face grow increasingly grim.
Damn, my landlady, you died so miserably!
He remembered!
The deceased was called Aoi No Yuuki, the married woman with whom the original body was cheating, also the landlady's wife, who was separated from her husband.
Suzuki Byakuya was invited to her room for dinner last night.
As the saying goes, when one is full, one thinks of that stuff. After they were full of food and wine, they went to the bedroom to discuss life.
The memories quickly switched scenes.
The original body staggered back to his room.
Then, the memories of his awakening after that.
As for the details of the murder, Byakuya couldn’t recall them no matter what.
Damn, I shouldn't have come here to join in the fun. Now I’m stuck in this mess!
Byakuya couldn’t accept the fact that he had become the prime suspect right after crossing over. His body and face tightened with his fluctuating emotions.
“Da da da.”
There was a rapid sound of footsteps coming from the living room.
Before Byakuya could turn around, he heard a woman's voice first:
“Hey, Shinichi, wait for me!”