Chapter 1: Han Ling at the Police Academy

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Gangwon Province, Qingchang City.

In the haze between dream and wakefulness, Han Ling’s eyelids fluttered.

A splitting headache surged through him like a tide. Han Ling summoned all his strength to open his eyes, but the light was murky.

It wasn’t pure darkness, but a heavy, grainy grayness.

Two seconds later, the murkiness was replaced by a wash of white light. Gradually, shapes became discernible, and his vision sketched out the contours of the room.

It was a living room.

The headache slowly eased. Han Ling turned his head to widen his field of view, realizing he was half-reclined on the living room sofa.

Fragments of memory surfaced like wreckage hauled from the depths, merging together until Han Ling regained full clarity.

“I shot myself in the temple. And I’m still alive?”

“No, that’s not right!”

Han Ling’s expression flickered. Enduring the lingering pain, he sat up straight and looked ahead.

By the TV’s feature wall stood a full-length mirror, and in its reflection was… a stranger.

A strange face, an unfamiliar hairstyle, a body he didn’t recognize. He was dressed in a gray t-shirt and black pants, appearing to be in his early twenties.

It was uncanny.

Suddenly, the pain in his head intensified, far worse than before. Han Ling instinctively clutched his head, letting out a muffled groan.

This pain was peculiar—unlike anything he’d ever felt. It was agony laced with vertigo, as though he were strapped to a wildly spinning pendulum while sharp instruments churned within his skull.

“Damn it!”

He couldn’t help but curse as new fragments of memory began to fuse together.

[Han Ling… orphan… graduate of Gangwon Police Academy… new recruit in police training exercise.]

“I’ve transmigrated? Same name and surname?”

Han Ling found this reality difficult to accept, even if it meant a new lease on life.

By habit, he reached for a cigarette, but found only a lighter in his pocket.

His predecessor smoked, but was fresh out.

Just as he tried to recall more, a series of urgent knocks interrupted him, followed by a man’s shout.

“Han Ling! We’ve already determined you’re the culprit! Open up! It’s over!”

Han Ling turned his head slightly but ignored the noise.

His new memories told him the speaker was Zhang Yunhang, top scorer in the provincial police recruitment exam and first in Qingchang City.

“Han Ling! Stop struggling! Your attempts at covering up are clumsy!”

Outside, Zhang Yunhang continued pounding on the door, his shouts echoing in the hallway. The corridor light illuminated his rather handsome face, highlighting a hint of arrogance.

Behind him stood five new recruits—three men and two women.

“Yunhang, it’s lucky we have you. Your keen observation and quick thinking made all the difference. Otherwise, Han Ling might have fooled us,” said a short-haired, delicate-looking girl named Peng Yao, who, like Zhang Yunhang, was assigned to the Qingchang City Public Security Bureau’s Criminal Investigation Division. She’d only recently met Zhang Yunhang during the training exercise and had taken quite a liking to him.

Their specialties differed: Peng Yao had majored in Forensic Science at the academy, while Zhang Yunhang had studied Investigation. They would be colleagues in the future.

Han Ling, on the other hand, had applied for a position at a local police station—a division two levels below the city bureau.

Another young man added, “Han Ling did well, using his police academy knowledge in reverse. Probably got pushed to his limits by Lin Rong yesterday. Too bad he still falls short of Yunhang.”

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Though the others remained silent, their expressions showed they trusted Zhang Yunhang’s judgment.

In this final investigative exercise, the command center had crafted multiple case scenarios tailored to different branches of policing. The new frontline recruits—criminal, economic, and narcotics investigators—were divided into teams by lot, drawing roles as either perpetrators or police. The Red Team played police; the Blue Team, criminals or decoys.

Those assigned as suspects could improvise within the case’s framework, their ultimate goal to escape police investigation within a set timeframe.

A contest of investigation and counter-investigation.

If the perpetrator was caught, the Red Team won; if not, victory went to the Blue.

It was worth noting that nearly twenty teams had competed, and all had ended in Red Team victories. No suspect had managed to outwit the investigators; the cases set by the command center always left too many clues pointing to the culprit. Even if one tried to complicate the investigation, there was little a fresh graduate could do in such a short time—perfection was impossible.

In fact, the command center had intentionally raised the difficulty for the Blue Team, ensuring Red Team victories. After all, allowing “criminals” to win—even in an exercise—would be an embarrassment for the “police.”

All the new recruits understood this unspoken truth.

Zhang Yunhang’s team, with Han Ling and the others, was the last to run the gauntlet, bringing the weeks-long training to a close.

“Han Ling did too much,” Zhang Yunhang remarked, his smile fading at the mention of Lin Rong, “The more you do, the more mistakes you make. Do less, make fewer mistakes. Do nothing, make none. That’s the lesson Han Ling never grasped.”

Peng Yao agreed. “Exactly. He probably watched too many movies.”

After a brief exchange, Zhang Yunhang resumed knocking. “Han Ling! Where are you? Open the door!”

The young man on his team wondered aloud, “Is he not here? Or has he just given up?”

The exercise was designed to be realistic, with many extras from film studios playing roles—reporting crimes, processing scenes, interviewing witnesses, conducting investigations. The process was complete and immersive.

Every suspect had a temporary residence and identity.

By the rules, the Blue Team could move freely throughout the entire film set.

“Break the door down.”

Zhang Yunhang was decisive. He glanced around, grabbed a hammer from the pile of junk in the hallway, and aimed for the old-fashioned lock—it could be smashed open with brute force.

“Break it down?” Peng Yao and the others hesitated; after all, it was just a drill.

Zhang Yunhang, ever the know-it-all, explained, “There are two reasons. First, the command center said before the exercise that the film base had a damage quota, meaning we’re allowed to break things within limits.

“Second, and more importantly, there’s a time limit for this criminal investigation exercise—two hours remain. If Han Ling is inside and refuses to open, he’s probably stalling. We need to check.”

Noticing Zhang Yunhang’s slight impatience, Peng Yao looked at him with meaning, her tone tinged with jealousy. “Yesterday, Lin Rong said if Han Ling could win for the Blue Team, she’d consider accepting his pursuit. Could that be what’s driving you?”

At her words, the other four looked over, ready for gossip.

Gangwon Police Academy was a provincial school, admitting only local students. The police recruitment exam also required provincial residency, so all the trainees were alumni—some familiar, some not.

The six of them didn’t know Han Ling well; they were in different classes. Each major had several classes—Investigation, for example, had four.

Lin Rong was a campus beauty in the Economic Crime Investigation major, now assigned to the city’s Economic Crime Division.

She was an outstanding student from a good family and was beautiful to boot. Throughout her four years at university, she’d never lacked suitors, though none had succeeded.

Han Ling was among them—and quite persistent at that.

They’d heard Zhang Yunhang had chased her too.

As for Peng Yao… she’d become close to Zhang Yunhang during the exercise, and her recent behavior suggested she was interested in him.

Romance, especially entanglements, was always complicated.

Peng Yao’s words made Zhang Yunhang’s expression stiffen, but he forced a laugh. “Lin Rong was just teasing him. Besides, what does that have to do with this? I’m just taking the exercise seriously.”

Whether Peng Yao believed him or not, she didn’t press further. “If he really is stalling, isn’t that a bit of a dirty trick?”

Zhang Yunhang replied, “Not a dirty trick—he’s just making full use of the rules, within reason.

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Make way.”

The five stepped back.

Zhang Yunhang raised the hammer.

Inside the living room.

Hearing all this, Han Ling slowly stood up.

Zhang Yunhang wasn’t entirely wrong—his predecessor’s actions, according to these new memories, had indeed been excessive and unnecessary.

The less you do, the fewer mistakes; fresh police academy graduates don’t know how to play the perfect criminal.

The desire to win only clouded judgment.

“Lin Rong?”

“She does look good in my memories, but chasing after her like a lovesick fool led to nothing. Where did an orphan like you get that kind of courage? Still, that’s more than can be said for those who never dared at all.”

Outside, the attempts at forced entry had begun. Han Ling strode quickly into the bedroom, pulling out the Nokia phone from his pocket to check the time: 7:28 p.m.

He went to the bedroom window and looked outside.

The moonlight was dim. Everything was silent. There were streetlights and modern buildings, but little sign of life. Not a single car on the street, only a few scattered extras strolling about, lending an eerie quiet.

Those pedestrians were extras.

After a few seconds, Han Ling turned back. There was a chair in the room. The window wasn’t large, but he could probably wedge the chair in place.

It was the third floor—too high to jump, but the bed sheets could be useful.

“My predecessor didn’t like Zhang Yunhang much, so I’ll help you out. Call it a thank you.”

Bang!

Bang!

Crack!

The door lock broke, and Zhang Yunhang and the others rushed in.

No one in the living room.

“Han Ling?!”

“Split up and search!”

The group dispersed; with a two-bedroom layout, it would take moments to search.

“Yunhang! Something’s up in here!”

A shout came from the master bedroom, and everyone hurried over.

At the window, a chair had been wedged in place. Fabric strips were tied to the chair back. Zhang Yunhang rushed to the window, pulled out the chair, and stuck his head out. The long strip of fabric dangled and swayed, its end empty.

Clearly, Han Ling had used the tools at hand to escape. The group was dumbfounded.

Even Zhang Yunhang was momentarily at a loss. “Can… you run? Are the rules even set up for this?”

…

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