Hey! The Criminal Assistance System Can Even Be Used Like This? 170

The first to react was the actor playing opposite Xu Zhizhi, who instinctively stepped back several paces to avoid her.

The rain-soaked body, already chilled by the downpour, felt even colder, to the point of feeling the chill penetrate to the bone.

His first instinct was not to confirm what he had seen, but to put more distance between himself and Xu Zhizhi.

The actor trembled involuntarily, wondering what would happen if the knife were real.

“Real knife!” His voice trembled, laced with a sharp intensity that left the nearby cameraman frozen in place.

Then, like a virus, the news spread—one shared with ten, and ten shared with a hundred—until the entire crew was stunned into silence.

It was a terrifying discovery, a massive filming accident.

The props used by the crew, be it knives, swords, or even the most fake-looking wooden swords, were all carefully monitored by designated personnel before use.

Before usage, the props team would also check the situation thoroughly.

They were fearful of accidents, for such incidents could halt the filming entirely.

When Xu Zhizhi claimed that the knife in her hand was real, the entire crew exploded into chaos.

The head of the props team rushed over, shouting, “Xu Zhizhi! Don’t say such falsehoods! These props are regularly checked, and I arranged for someone to inspect them beforehand!”

He thought it must be Xu Zhizhi’s hallucination or some excuse stemming from a bad state of mind.

By this point, Xu Zhizhi had calmed down. When she realized the truth just moments ago, she felt as if her blood had nearly frozen.

She sensed something was wrong the instant she pushed the knife forward, inadvertently grazing the actor’s clothing instead.

She raised her head to reveal her raincoat-covered eyes, locking gazes with the props head amidst the sound of the pouring rain.

Without a word, she held the knife, then her gaze fell upon the hem of the opposite actor’s shirt.

In scenes involving murder, the movements could not appear soft or weak; they needed to be powerful and convincing.

Sometimes, the retractable fake knives used by actors required the blade to make contact with their opponent’s attire, allowing the actor to feel the pressure retract as if they had been “stabbed.”

After all, they couldn’t film genuine stabbing scenes, so the choreography involved a pushing motion combined with that action.

Hence, according to the requirements, Xu Zhizhi needed to use all her strength to stab the right side of the actor’s waist.

When she made her move, she initially pierced the opponent but, realizing the danger, did her best to divert the knife.

It was a close call; the knife evaded the right side but still managed to leave a small cut, tearing the clothing as well.

Due to the small width of the cut, it felt more like a surface scratch, and combined with the rain and the focused acting, the other actor hardly noticed.

However, Xu Zhizhi saw the torn clothing and immediately recognized her inference was correct: the knife in her hand was indeed real.

The scene was illuminated by lights; although not overly bright, there was just enough visibility.

The stagehand, noticing Xu Zhizhi’s silence, followed her line of sight.

Being of the same gender as the actor, he immediately extended his hand to lift the actor’s T-shirt, revealing a faint reddening on the waistline underneath, along with the clothing punctured by the sharp knife.

His hand trembled at once, and his face turned pale in the rain-soaked night.

The silence following the stagehand’s actions sent a shiver down everyone’s spine; Xu Zhizhi couldn’t be telling the truth!

A commotion erupted as people with umbrellas and raincoats rushed into the alley to begin their inspection.

The assistant director reached out, and in that instant, Xu Zhizhi’s knife effortlessly sliced through a fabric hanging in the air.

The scene went utterly silent, leaving only the collective apprehension lingering in the air.

If not for Xu Zhizhi’s keen perception, this filming crew might have faced a fatal incident today.

Feng Jie rushed over to comfort Xu Zhizhi, feeling that this was the most severe shock she had ever experienced.

Xu Hua pushed through the crowd, taking the knife handed over by the assistant director, his expression grave and startling.

Given that such a dangerous situation had occurred, filming naturally had to come to a halt.

But no one dared to leave; the swap from a fake knife to a real one certainly demanded thorough investigation.

As the crew’s big lights turned on, under their glare, everyone’s gaze unconsciously fell upon Xu Zhizhi.

What bad luck to encounter such an incident while filming.

Xu Hua contemplated for a moment, deciding to call the police; this was undoubtedly a case of framing! Someone was determined to send him to jail!

After reporting the incident to the police, they evacuated the alley.

The narrow alley, filled with garbage, emitted an unpleasant odor in the dimness.

Xu Zhizhi instinctively turned back to glance at the alley, only to be stung by the barely-there smell of garbage, making her expression sour as she quickened her pace to leave.

Filming for this scene was definitely out of the question tonight; the truth must be uncovered, or else it would be far too terrifying.

The male actor who had shared a scene with Xu Zhizhi was scared half to death, now hiding under the eaves, still shaken.

He had dodged death by a hair’s breadth in this filming crew.

Even if he hadn’t lost his life, he feared he might have injured his internal organs.

Once the police arrived, everyone relocated to the interior of the rented filming location; the actor, who had nearly been hurt, changed clothes.

Xu Zhizhi took off her raincoat, wrapping herself in a blanket provided by Feng Jie.

In the summer heat of the Pearl City, even on sunny days it rarely went above twenty-seven or twenty-eight degrees; under the rain, it dropped to twenty-one or twenty-two degrees.

With the addition of the night’s chill, the perceived temperature felt like it was only seventeen or eighteen degrees.

With the blanket, Xu Zhizhi wouldn’t catch a cold.

Three or four officers arrived, all from the nearby precinct, mainly interrogating the props team.

Everyone gathered, with tension hanging thick in the air.

Feng Jie, shaking Xu Zhizhi’s raincoat prop, sat down on the prepared sofa.

The two sat side by side, both sporting expressions of aimlessness and weariness.

This incident needed an explanation from the director because, if Xu Zhizhi had harmed someone, what would happen to her?

With such things occurring in the crew, what they had to do was wait for the director to give an answer.

Sitting here waiting for a response without getting involved was already giving the director ample respect.

Xu Zhizhi had faced numerous dangers before, but now she had calmed completely, tightly wrapped in the blanket, without uttering a word.

Regardless of the reasons, she saw no need to step forward; after all, as Xu Hua said, this was not her issue but the crew’s.

The crew belonged to Xu Hua, and he was responsible for everything.

Feng Jie, listening to the noise from the other side, leaned closer to Xu Zhizhi, “Zhizhi, how did you realize something was off?”

The props used in the crew today were different from those of earlier years; back then, movie and TV quality was poor, and many items were exaggeratedly fake.

Now, with advanced filming technology, props were designed to withstand scrutiny, mimicking reality to the fullest extent, hence the need for extreme realism.

Earlier, she had weighed other props in the crew, and their weights were not significantly different from the real ones.

If it weren’t for the knife retracting slightly when she stabbed at the fabric during its testing, Feng Jie might not have been able to distinguish the truth from the fake.

When Xu Zhizhi first grabbed the knife, she probably hadn’t noticed either until it was time to stab.

Hearing Feng Jie’s inquiry, Xu Zhizhi glanced at her before turning back.

“Perhaps it was just a feeling, you know, I often play the roles of killers and simulate murder scenes.

There was a faint sense that the heft of that knife was too familiar…” Xu Zhizhi possessed the skill of being well-versed in melee weapons, specifically for killing; she had swapped for it beforehand to go camping with Chen Han.

Occasionally simulating, Xu Zhizhi was quite familiar with murder; coupled with her understanding of cold weapons, she had sensed something subtly off about the knife.

When she first held it, she felt something was amiss due to the weight being just a tad heavier.

However, the heavy rainfall and the clattering noise of the raindrops dampened her thoughts.

Also, the chill from the rain made her fingers feel frozen, leading her to think it was merely an illusion and thus disregarded it.

Only when it was time for the actual stab did she react, realizing that the knife in her hand might indeed be real.

She lowered her head to check and saw the actor’s clothing torn; the panic informed her that her instincts had not failed her.

Feng Jie was left speechless, staring at Xu Zhizhi in disbelief.

She had initially thought Xu Zhizhi had noticed something odd about someone on set, remaining alert to catch the anomaly.

Unexpectedly, it was merely because of her extensive “murder” experience that Xu Zhizhi had developed such intuition, leaving Feng Jie with mixed feelings.

Playing the villain too often could breed such instincts?

Once Xu Zhizhi had finished their murmured exchange, an officer approached her, inquiring how she had discovered the truth.

As Feng Jie contemplated stopping Xu Zhizhi from speaking absurdity, Xu Zhizhi chimed in, smiling, “It felt heavy, this knife is a bit heavier than usual.”

This answer fell right in line with their expectations; Xu Zhizhi was certainly no fool.

The officer acknowledged Xu Zhizhi’s response, expressing relief that she had been alert.

They quickly moved on to interrogating the props team, who all insisted they hadn’t swapped any knives.

The two knives they had prepared were, in fact, both fake.

From a distance, Xu Zhizhi noticed one team member displaying an awkward demeanor.

She didn’t bring it up, not because she wanted to see a performance, but rather the officer was skilled at investigations and would likely notice the unusual tension.

The officer immediately approached the person to start questioning.

Xu Hua stood by, glancing back at Xu Zhizhi whenever others were being questioned.

With a sharp look, Xu Zhizhi pierced him with her gaze; reminded of nearly stabbing someone, Xu Hua paled, shifting his gaze to avoid her intensity.

Both regretted staying; had they known, they would have opted out of filming or not invited anyone.

In the end, it was merely a matter of Huaguo’s proverbial “since we’re already here.”

Of course, Xu Zhizhi had her other reasons—namely, the System.

The Criminal Assistance System knew everything and had launched a task the moment Xu Zhizhi chose to audition.

Prior to this, it had been playing deaf and mute.

At times, it even gave Xu Zhizhi the impression that it had ceased to exist.

Then, out of nowhere, it struck with a vicious backstab.

Issuing a task meant it was waiting for an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow!

It couldn’t meddle with the network or interfere with virtual currencies beyond her reach.

That did not mean it couldn’t observe the internet or unearth secrets.

In this information age, everything spoken could be heard by one’s phone.

Then, when one engaged with their device, it might recommend things they had previously discussed.

Modern smartphones can perform surveillance and big data suggestions; the System would excel in these aspects out of sheer prowess.

Xu Zhizhi had no doubt the System had received plenty of information ahead of her.

These secrets, stitched together, served as the System’s computational web, calculating its strategy.

This was not some supernatural foresight; she had subconsciously disregarded the might of technology.

Just like in the famous sci-fi novel “The Three-Body Problem,” which states: “Weakness and ignorance are not barriers to survival; arrogance is.”

This line struck Xu Zhizhi like a slap across the face, jolting her into clarity.

Having acquired numerous skills, she had developed a touch of arrogance.

Assuming the System was inferior was a misguided notion.

Xu Zhizhi averted her gaze, concealing the myriad emotions swirling within her.

She couldn’t leave or turn back; she could only forge ahead.

After some time in silence, she pulled her thoughts together, watching as the officer interviewed that member of the props team a few meters away.

Everyone at the scene fell silent, listening intently to the officers’ inquiries.

“You are primarily responsible for the props of the crew; do you recognize this knife?” The officer lifted the knife, waving it before the man.

What appeared to be a simple question contained a seriousness that everyone detected.

The man was slender and in his early twenties; upon hearing the police’s query, his eyes flashed with panic, “I… I recognize it; it’s a prop knife from the crew.”

“Has this knife left your sight at any point?” the officer continued to probe.

The other officers adjusted their recording devices, directing them towards the man, while one held a phone as if casually using it.

This nonchalance made the man instinctively relax a bit, and he replied, “The prop knife has always been in my sight.”

“Who handed it to Xu Zhizhi?” the officer questioned, scanning the props team and locking eyes with each member.

This case involved the crew, and since the actors were public figures, particularly Xu Zhizhi, it was highly likely someone had plotted to frame her.

To preserve the Pearl City’s tourism image and avoid defamation, they needed to give Xu Zhizhi and the crew an explanation.

The thin man, somewhat frightened, stammered, “I was the one who gave the knife to Xu Zhizhi… But I swear! I truly meant no harm; if I had bad intentions, I’d be the first in trouble! If Xu Zhizhi harmed someone, the one who handed her the knife would definitely end up in jail! Wuwuwuwu, I truly didn’t dare!”

The man spoke rapidly, his eyes wide, desperately defending his innocent intentions.

He was extremely anxious; as the direct custodian and distributor of the prop knife, he genuinely couldn’t dare to do something like that!

“When you handed over the knife, did you notice anything unusual?” the officer pursued.

The man shook his head, “This knife looks incredibly realistic; I just tested it with Xu Zhizhi a few minutes ago and didn’t notice anything off.”

The two officers exchanged glances, frowning.

After a two-second pause, the officer with the recording device turned to Xu Hua, “Can we inspect the other props from your team?”

This seemed a valid direction, and they had to provide some answers today.

Xu Hua nodded, directing the head of the props team to lead them out into the rain.

“The moment this happened, I instructed someone to cover all the props here with a rain tarp and ensured people kept their distance immediately.” As the heavy rain poured down, Xu Hua loudly explained to the officers.

He was someone who made crime thriller dramas, so he had some understanding of police investigations and scene protection, thus prompting him to quickly secure the site after calling the police.

At this moment, he felt a sense of pride; surely, the one who set him up wouldn’t escape the law now.

Many from the crew clustered near the windows and entrance, watching as they approached the spot in the greenery where props had been temporarily stored.

Xu Zhizhi gazed at Xu Hua’s silhouette, momentarily dispelling her doubts about him.

Under the streetlights, and the stage lights arranged by the crew, Xu Hua lifted the rain tarps to reveal the situation beneath.

The two officers refrained from touching anything, merely peering at the contents inside.

Seeing the fake knife lying in the black prop box, one officer donned gloves, examining the blade and testing its sharpness, confirming that it was indeed a fake.

They exchanged glances, and one of them made a call, summoning someone to come and inspect the traces.

Then they searched through the other prop boxes.

Xu Hua followed closely, his heart racing with unease.

Inside the room, Feng Jie remembered that Xu Zhizhi hadn’t changed out of her rain boots yet.

The rain boots were made of rubber, making them quite stifling.

The crew used those cheap shoes that cost a mere ten dollars a pair; the insides were just naked surface, and wearing them for long would be quite uncomfortable.

She quickly got up to go to the changing room and look for them.

Though Xu Hua was stingy, often complaining about having little money and a sharp tongue, he still prepared a dedicated changing room for Xu Zhizhi.

She entered the changing room, found Xu Zhizhi’s previous shoes, and carried them through the makeup room towards the large room where Xu Zhizhi was.

The place they rented had a total of four to five rooms; the makeup room was in the middle, while the changing room was further inside, requiring a pass through the makeup room no matter where they went, similar to a hall.

Carrying the shoes, Feng Jie noticed the makeup room lights were on, and she subconsciously glanced toward it.

After a brief glance, she turned her head to leave the room.

Just two steps out, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, whipping around to look at the knife on the makeup table.

She turned back, rushed to the nearest makeup table, her gaze fixated on the knife casually resting on the surface.

She did not touch it; rather, she stepped back two paces and then quickly exited the room.

She scanned the crowd gathered in the hall, her gaze landing on the only person she deemed trustworthy: Xu Zhizhi.

Feng Jie hurried over to Xu Zhizhi, placing the shoes at her feet, sitting beside her to recount what she had just seen.

Xu Zhizhi’s expression shifted, and she whispered, “You stand at the makeup room door and don’t let anyone inside; I’ll inform the police.”

Here, the most trustworthy individuals were undoubtedly the investigating officers.

Upon hearing Xu Zhizhi’s instructions, Feng Jie agreed, quickly returning to the makeup room door, standing guard to prevent anyone from approaching.

Xu Zhizhi picked up the shoes and placed them aside, reaching for the raincoat hanging next to her to wrap herself in it.

In a hurry, she pushed through the onlookers from the crew gathered at the entrance and stepped out into the downpour.

Xu Hua was the first to see Xu Zhizhi, confusion flickering in his eyes, wondering how she had come out.

Xu Zhizhi didn’t glance at Xu Hua; she quickly made her way over to the two officers, speaking softly and rapidly, “I found a knife in the makeup room.”

The officers were suddenly startled, standing up to face Xu Zhizhi.

Following her, the officers returned to the room, and Xu Zhizhi faced them.

Feng Jie remained at the door, preventing anyone beyond Xu Zhizhi and the two officers from entering.

After the two officers checked, they discovered it was a prop knife.

“The props team mentioned earlier that there were only two prop knives; now that both are accounted for, where did the real one come from?” one officer furrowed his brow and asked.

The other officer nodded, “Could someone have deliberately switched them? Was it an attempt to create a bloody scene for the crew?”

Xu Zhizhi stood nearby, considering, “There’s a problem here: why would they do this? Is it out of revenge or something else?”

“This case is rather complex; we might not obtain answers right away. We could try to apply to view the street surveillance.” The frowning officer replied.

Xu Zhizhi habitually began to weave her conspiracy theories, recalling whom she might have offended or whose interests she might have infringed upon by being here.

Could it be that the madman who barged into the filming crew yesterday was here to kill her?

The two officers were also deep in thought about how to conduct the investigation.

Were they to simply console and reassure everyone about this?

Since no one was injured, they couldn’t hand this over to the criminal investigation unit!

The two exchanged glances, and for a moment the scene fell into a stalemate.

Just then, among the crowd, a man raised his hand shakily and said, “This… this knife, I brought it into the makeup room.”

In an instant, all attention was drawn to him, creating a quick opening around him.

Feng Jie shifted, allowing him to enter the makeup room with an expression of embarrassment.

Everyone watched with curiosity, eager to understand what was happening.

Xu Hua glanced at Feng Jie, and she considered things before agreeing to let him in.

With the key figure present, the investigation of the incident could begin.

Xu Zhizhi looked at the newcomer curiously; she knew he wasn’t the one who swapped the fake knife, as his expression suggested he was recalling something rather than having done something.

The nuances of their expressions were different; Xu Zhizhi recognized this right away.

Sure enough, he soon confessed, “I threw the knife into the makeup room. I had no ulterior motives; I just thought I’d have some fun by going live with my girlfriend after I got back… I figured there was another prop knife in the box, one would be enough for Xu Zhizhi’s shoot, so I took it.”

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