My Immoral Detective System

It looked like the system had become smarter these days. Without even asking, 007 popped out and glared at his host. He didn't read Zion's thoughts this time, but he was observing everything from the sidelines.

Just by seeing the situation at present, the system understood what Zion wanted currently. 007 gritted his teeth and glared at his host. "Don't say a word! I'll arrange for a torch. Just pay me 2 points back in the future."​​

Zion nodded and smiled in satisfaction. "You've become intelligent."

At this, the system sent another glare toward his host and went off.

Before entering the room, Zion turned around and said, "Your highness, I'd like to be alone to find clues here."

Prince Linton nodded in understanding. "It's fine. Go ahead."

Zion turned around and closed the door behind him. After a while, the system popped up. "Click the torch beside me." When he watched his host following his order obediently, his throat choked up. In an emotional tone, 007 said, "You've troubled me so much! If you were always like this, my life would be easier."

At this, Zion's eyes narrowed. "If I were like this, I don't think Methu man would've chosen me."

"Ah…" The system also realized that his boss chose this host for his wits and brain. So 007 nodded in agreement. "That's true."

Zion's lips curved up at that. He had just taken a gamble by saying that the Methu man needed his help just because he was witty and smart enough. After listening to this system's words, his suspicions were cleared, and he was even more confident in his deduction about why that furry man summoned him in this world.

Apparently, not even martial art professionals could save this world. So perhaps the person who was going to wreak havoc in this world was way smarter than ordinary people. But that person still hadn't appeared or even showed their presence. But Zion wasn't impatient. He only wanted to earn more points and become powerful before he could get the first clue about what was going on here!

So after turning on the torch, Zion's sharp eyes noticed that this room was spotless, and he couldn't see even a trace of dust on the ground or decorative paintings on the wall. Most of the pictures were filled with drawings of a handsome young man with dual-color in his eyes.

This must be the prince.

Zion walked further in through the corridor and saw a coffin in the middle of a room. He frowned and walked over at a slow pace.

The room wasn't unique. In fact, all four sides of this room had white paint, but it had no windows. Not even a ventilator was there for the circulation of air. Perhaps this was mandatory to keep the surrounding cold.

He glanced at the coffin and pushed the lid, which didn't budge an inch. After a few minutes of pushing it continuously, the coffin still didn't move and continued to mock him in the face.

Zion glared at the coffin and looked down at his hand. His lips pressed together when he realized that his strength was an obstruction to his case. He would tell the system to choose harder cases for him with higher points to reach the next level and improve his strength.

But what should he do now? Should he ask the system to help him with this? When the image of a pissed-off 007 popped up in his head, Zion shook his head. Although he could manipulate that unfortunate thing any time, he didn't want to push the system's limits.

If the system got angry, he would be doomed.

Perhaps he could try to remove the lid again. But why the heck was it so heavy? By looking at the coffin, he could tell that the surface looked like that of wood, but such an object shouldn't be so heavy! Zion once again gave his all and pushed the lid.

His expression contorted as his hand muscles strained to the point of feeling numb. After a while, he saw the lid moving an inch that left a gap.

Zion sighed in relief and gasped for air. He hated his useless and weak body!

When he took enough rest, he pushed himself to the limit and could get rid of the lid after half an hour of exercise.

He glanced inside to find a familiar face he had seen in the portrait. It was just that this man seemed to be asleep. There was a red injury mark scratched across the dead body's neck as the man wore black-colored robes.

Zion's hand reached the neck, and he was just about to rub his fingers against the red injury mark when his fingers accidentally touched something. He frowned and squinted his eyes at that place.

Just below the man's chin, something was sticking out. It almost felt as if there was an outer skin layer that he could peel off anytime!

Zion frowned. He quickly used both hands to remove the skin layer from the man's face without damaging the corpse.

As soon as he removed the layer, he gave the man an indifferent glance and squinted his eyes. What appeared before his eyes was a whitish face of an unknown person who didn't look even a little similar to the person in the portrait. His eyes darted toward the layer of skin on his hand, which looked like a fake face mask that had someone else's appearance.

Sure enough. Nothing, in this case, was simple. Even the dead crown prince's body wasn't really the original person.

If that were the case, then where was the prince?

Zion squinted his eyes. He didn't trust anyone, not even the king. So he didn't plan to share this discovery with anyone. So he put the mask on the corpse's face again with the same precision. After he was done, no one could tell whether someone had removed the mask.