I'm in Detective Conan, and I start with the Grand Theft Auto system.

The police interrogation room was blindingly bright under the lights.

Nakata Joji was handcuffed to an iron chair, the handcuffs digging painfully into his wrists.

Two police officers sat behind the table opposite him, one holding a pen and the other a water glass, their expressions so serious it was as if their gazes could pin him to the wall.

They've been asking questions for almost two hours.

At first, Nakata Joji was quite defiant, leaning back in his chair, tilting his head, and speaking in a completely unserious manner: "I won't talk, I'll make you all furious. Go ahead and shoot me if you dare!"

He really didn't dare to expose Lin Shen. Judging from the other party's record, he was a truly monstrous and deranged killer!

If you're going to kill someone, just kill them. Why do you have to use a samurai sword to do it?

This guy can even slice bullets with his knife?!

To be honest, when Nakata Joji saw the surveillance footage, his eyes widened in disbelief, because he was watching a movie!

After learning that Lin Shen had killed more than a dozen or twenty police officers and carved a bloody path through them, he immediately understood that he had to be the scapegoat no matter what.

If he had said it himself, Lin Shen would definitely have found a way to kill him.

Those police officers wouldn't risk their own lives!

The two police officers exchanged a glance, their expressions conveying a sense of helplessness.

They really couldn't do anything to him, since torture and forced confessions are no longer allowed these days.

Nobody wants to gamble with their future, especially since even if they win, they won't get a promotion or a raise!

Why bother?

They then increased the pressure and began to work on it.

An hour passed.

Three hours passed.

Six hours have passed.

…………

The clock in the interrogation room ticked away, the lights remained on, and footsteps echoed constantly.

The police officers conducting the interrogations changed one after another, taking turns asking questions as one went on to ask the next.

At first, Nakata Joji was able to hold on, but later he gradually couldn't keep up.

My eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, my mind is getting duller and duller, and my speech is becoming a slurred mumble.

More than ten hours later, he was completely exhausted.

His hair was a mess, his face was oily, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he might collapse to the ground at any moment.

By late the next night, Nakata Joji finally couldn't hold on any longer.

He slumped over the iron table, his voice like that of a walking corpse: "I...I'll tell you everything. I'll admit to everything!"

"Can't you just let me take a nap? If not... just shoot me!"

"I really can't take it anymore..."

He didn't even have the strength to lift his head; his mouth opened and closed, spitting out words mechanically.

The police officer opposite him didn't intend to let him sleep. Instead, he tapped on the table and asked a crucial question: "Fine, then tell me honestly, where are the bombs planted?"

Nakata Joji's eyes darted around with difficulty, and he mumbled, "Those bombs... I didn't plant them."

The police officer paused, his pen still.

He thought he had misheard: "What did you say?"

Nakata Joji closed his eyes, his voice trailing off: "I'm just... a scapegoat. All the bombs... were planted by someone else..."

The interrogation room fell silent for a few seconds after those words were spoken.

The two police officers looked at each other, their expressions changing simultaneously.

One of the voices lowered to a whisper: "You mean... there's a mastermind behind you?"

Nakata Joji replied truthfully, "Yes, I'm just an unlucky guy who was used too!!"

The two police officers stared at each other for a full five seconds, then stood up almost simultaneously and strode out of the interrogation room.

As soon as the door closed, the two men quickly went to find the other interrogators to discuss the matter.

The other interrogators listened, and their expressions were priceless.

"He said he was just a scapegoat?" another police officer asked in a low voice, his tone full of disbelief.

The two were silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

Now it's the other police officers' turn to have a headache!

The police spent a whole day and night investigating this case before finally managing to pry this one clue out of Nakata Joji.

But now they're being told they've arrested the wrong person!

This guy is just a scapegoat.

The real culprit is still at large.

If this news is reported, everything they've done before will be for nothing.

The police officer who died was killed in vain.

All the credit has vanished.

Moreover, the next step is to catch the real culprit who was able to wipe out the entire police squad.

Upon thinking about these things, all the officers fell silent.

No one spoke, but everyone was thinking the same thing.

They joined the police force for comfort, for prestige, and to be looked up to, not to actually risk their lives to catch criminals.

Those grassroots field staff without connections are the ones who go to the field.

Anyone who gets an office job must have connections.

Who would risk their life for that salary?

One of the police officers took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "So... should we just report this like this?"

The other police officer was silent for a moment, then decisively shook his head: "Report it? What would we gain from reporting it?"

The third policeman chimed in: "The dead can't be brought back to life, and you won't get any credit. In the end, you'll just get scolded."

The fourth policeman said in an even lower voice, "How about... I just treat him as a criminal?"

The police officers exchanged glances.

That look in his eyes said it all!

No need for further words, everything is self-evident!

Then they began their operation.

The group returned to the monitoring room, pulled up the previous surveillance footage, tapped a few times on the keyboard, and deleted it.

The video progress bar jumps back ten minutes, completely clean, as if that conversation had never happened.

The police officer sat back down at the interrogation table, looked at Nakata Joji, and his tone suddenly softened: "Nakata Joji, we want to discuss something with you."

Nakata Joji groggily raised his head: "Huh?"

The police said, "As long as you cooperate with us and honestly confess, we'll let you go to sleep. You can go to sleep right away."

Upon hearing the word "sleep," Nakata Joji seemed to be injected with stimulants, nodding repeatedly: "I'll cooperate! I'll cooperate! I'll say whatever you tell me to say!"

The police officer nodded in satisfaction.

He pressed the button to record the interrogation, and the red indicator light came on again.

He hardened his expression, his voice regaining its seriousness: "Nakata Joji, tell me honestly, where did you plant all your bombs?"

As if reciting lines, Nakata Joji blurted out, "A luxury apartment in Minato Ward, a villa in Meguro Ward, and several commercial and residential buildings in Chuo Ward..."

The police pressed further, asking, "Which rooms specifically?"

Nakata Joji shook his head: "I can't remember exactly, after all, we released more than two hundred..."

He couldn't make up any more stories, but the police didn't bother to investigate.

He glanced at his colleague beside him, nodded, and then closed his notebook: "Okay, that's enough for today's interrogation. Take him back to rest."

Nakata Joji let out a long breath and slumped into the chair like a lump of mud, completely relaxing.

Two police officers carried him back to the detention cell. As soon as he touched the hard bed, he fell into a deep sleep without even taking off his socks.

In the corridor outside the door, two police officers stood side by side. After exchanging glances, neither of them spoke.

The video recording from the interrogation room has been completely deleted.

And so, the "truth" that they all agreed upon was settled.