When Shen Zhaojue opened his eyes, the handcuffs were still hanging on his wrist bones. The memory of the last second before his death was that of a bullet piercing his chest. At this moment, he was kneeling on the damp blue brick floor, and his nose was filled with the smell of rust and incense. A huge bronze mirror hung above his head. What was reflected in the mirror was not his face, but a blood-red countdown: 71 hours, 58 minutes and 32 seconds. "Welcome to the Evil Mirror Corridor." Voices came from all directions, like nails scraping against a blackboard. The being who calls himself the "Weaver of Scales" tells him that there is no reincarnation here, only circulation. Each copy is an unsolved murder case. He must find the real murderer within the time limit, restore the complete motive chain, and calm the obsession of the deceased. If you succeed, you will go to the next case, if you fail, everything will be reset, and the countdown will be cut in half. The real food of Scales is his fear every time his heart beats faster, his anxiety every time his reasoning hits a wall, and his despair every time his companion falls. Those emotions are accurately quantified into evil force value and good fruit value, becoming a good drink in the mouth of high-dimensional predators. The first case: the corpse dismemberment case in Wangyue Tower. The deceased was a popular singer. The head was hung behind the plaque and the limbs were buried in the base of four pillars. All the echoes (remaining emotional fragments of the deceased) screamed the same name—but that man had the perfect alibi. Shen Zhaojue's profiling intuition told him that there was more than one murderer. And the supernatural induction forcefully poured into him a dying memory that was so vague that it was suffocating when he touched the relics of the deceased: blades, candlelight, and a chopped-up whisper - "Master Scales... Is this emotion strong enough?" When teammate Jiang Huan was caught during the investigation,
