Zhou Mo, a bodywork technician at an auto repair shop, was pushed to the top of the trending charts overnight as the “hit-and-run criminal responsible for a vicious crash.”
A drunk-driving rich kid had hit someone and forced him to take the blame. An army of paid posters flooded the internet with abuse. The police came to his door, a funeral wreath was thrown outside his home, and the whole internet demanded that he turn himself in and confess.
Everyone thought this low-level mechanic, with grease on his hands and phone, would sign a confession in tears.
Then, in a busy city district, influencers and traffic cops surrounded him, while millions of viewers watched his face on livestream.
He didn't run or panic. He pulled a flashlight and a pair of calipers from his pocket.
He shone the light and took some measurements.
“The other car's paint film is 0.3 millimeters too thick. The impact point is four centimeters too high. And the airbag has traces of your foundation on it.”
“You're framing me without even understanding collision dynamics? Did I waste thirty years studying trace evidence?”
The livestream chat went from insults to a flood of “Please accept my worship, master!” in an instant.
Later, he tore apart the crooked forensic expert's multimillion-yuan fake 3D model all by himself at a hearing. The police hired him as a special technical consultant. Armed with nothing but a tape measure and an ultraviolet flashlight, he brought down an entire local criminal syndicate. In the end, the mechanic whose fingers could never be fully rid of engine oil became head of the National Center for Forensic Evidence Reconstruction.
Come on, it looks great