“Who are you?” The face in the mirror actually spoke to Feng Bujue. “I don’t recognize you.”

“Who I am is not important,” Feng Bujue replied, casting a sharp gaze. “What’s important is, who are you?”

“Of course, I’m Hirata Shuichi,” the other replied.

“No, you’re not. You just look a lot like him,” Feng Bujue said. “Don’t pretend. I know there’s another personality inside this body. No one knows about your existence. Hirata doesn’t know, Takakura doesn’t know, Watanabe and Tachibana… none of them know.” He said with conviction, “You were the mastermind behind that case fifteen years ago.”

“Heh… hahahaha…” The man laughed loudly. “No matter who you are, you’re much smarter than that idiot.”

“You can call me Mr. F,” Feng Bujue said.

“You can call me Hirata Shuichi,” the man said.

“You’re Hirata Shuichi? Then who’s the psychopath who’s been locked up in prison for fifteen years?” Feng Bujue asked.

“He’s just an idiot with the same name as me, nothing more,” the other replied.

“I see…” Feng Bujue said. “Let me ask, when did you and that idiot part ways?” Feng Bujue threw out a question, following the other’s lead.

“Around the time we graduated from college, I suppose,” the man replied.

“Humph…” Feng Bujue smiled. “I understand. How about this, for the sake of convenience, I’ll call you Hirata, and that idiot, I’ll call him Shuichi, how does that sound?”

“Whatever,” Hirata said.

“After graduating from Kyoto University, you, Hirata, planned to develop in a big city, but Shuichi insisted on returning to his hometown, is that right?” Feng Bujue asked.

“You make it sound far too simplistic… that idiot…” The Hirata in the mirror revealed a cruel sneer. “He gave up the opportunity to work in Tokyo and even proposed breaking up with Miss Mika, who was the daughter of a large conglomerate’s director, someone countless men were eyeing…

Then, that idiot returned to his hometown and married his childhood sweetheart, taking a job in some insignificant little company. Look at what happened to him. Chizuko, that bitch, was having an affair with Fukui behind his back, and even though he worked like a dog, the company still went bankrupt because of some embezzling scumbag. My six years, my entire future, were all ruined by that idiot.”

“Hmm… I see,” Feng Bujue said. “The year you graduated from college, Shuichi made a major and painful life choice, so you and he split into two personalities. Shuichi is a very honest and kind person. He chose to return to his hometown and get married. As for you, Hirata, you have ambition, ability, and you’re tough and ruthless enough, but in the end, you lost to Shuichi.” He paused for a moment. “Until six years later, on November 24, 1990, when Hirata overheard his colleagues’ conversation in the restroom, he broke down, and then you gained the upper hand and took control of the body.”

“Your guess is quite accurate, Mr. F,” Hirata replied.

“You hate Shuichi, you hate his choices back then, you hate his personality, and even more so, you hate that he ruined your bright future,” Feng Bujue continued. “You want revenge, to completely destroy his life.” He thought for two seconds and began to deduce the previous case. “As someone with a good education, excellent skills, and ruthlessness, you’re much better than Shuichi when it comes to committing crimes. There are plenty of ways to kill Fukui, but just killing Fukui isn’t enough… given the nature and circumstances of the case, Shuichi’s sentence for murdering Fukui would be very light. His colleagues, even Chizuko, would testify on his behalf. Maybe he’d be out in a few years.” Feng Bujue chuckled. “So, you first killed a police officer, and then used that police officer’s gun to kill Fukui. There was no way Shuichi could escape from a case like that.

Heh… you’re indeed quite capable. Logically speaking, the act of killing the police officer can also be explained, even if Shuichi doesn’t remember, he wouldn't be able to say anything in the face of the evidence. If you had just killed a random passerby to escalate the crime, then Shuichi, with no motive and no knowledge of that memory, might have been directly diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, and even his killing of Fukui could have been explained as a mental issue.”

Feng Bujue took a breath. “Hoo… that’s why people who are good at planning are so scary.” He shrunk his neck. “Hmm… if I were to do this case… on the day of November 25th, I would first bring the tools for burying the body to the planned murder location. The ruins of the old house destroyed by the typhoon would be a good choice.

First of all, you're very familiar with that area. Secondly, whether it’s day or night, even if you’re seen by acquaintances there, you can easily make up a reason for being in the vicinity.

In short, at night, you randomly find a police officer on patrol who has a gun, trick him into going there with some excuse, suddenly attack him, and then bury him on the spot. Actually, you didn't plan on hiding him for too long, just long enough so that you wouldn't be discovered before killing Fukui. Who knew the authorities would ignore that area for so long that the body wouldn't be discovered until seven years later.”

“Oh? Are these all just speculations of yours?” Hirata asked.

“Yeah, I should have figured it out a long time ago, but at first, I didn’t know about your existence,” Feng Bujue replied. “Shuichi wouldn’t do these things. He’s far inferior to you. Even if that guy wanted to snatch a gun, he wouldn’t kill someone for it. At most, he’d plan to knock someone out from behind, hoping that things wouldn’t be exposed before he killed Fukui.” His eyeballs rolled around, and he smiled slightly. “But you, Hirata, are different. If I assume that you were the one who committed the crime, then I can make the above deductions with considerable confidence.”

“Hmph… then why don’t you continue guessing what happened after that,” Hirata said.

“The later events are very simple. When you control the body, Shuichi is in a state of amnesia,” Feng Bujue replied. “On the afternoon of the 26th, without a doubt, you clearly knew that Chizuko left home to find Fukui. So, you put a piece of paper with the address 4-5, 6-bancho in your pocket, grabbed the handgun, and came to the vicinity of Fukui’s Western-style house, then temporarily returned the body to Shuichi.

He suddenly regained consciousness, disoriented. The gun in his pocket scared him, and then he saw the piece of paper, and in a daze, he came to Fukui’s Western-style house and interrupted their affair on the second floor. A man like Fukui would definitely curse and walk towards Shuichi, trying to drive him away.

Rage, pain, confusion, or some kind of psychological suggestion that you planted, there are countless possibilities that could lead to Shuichi, whose mind was in chaos, to pull the trigger, which was almost inevitable. This is the trap you set.

At this point, Shuichi has a second memory. And shortly after he fired the gun, you regained control of the body and proceeded to the next step…”