Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

On a night of howling wind and swirling snow, a young detective arrived at this place and chose to seek lodging.

He simply hadn’t expected the castle to be exceptionally lively tonight.

Besides the last to arrive, the wise and steady detective, there was also a gloomy-faced young poet. It was said he was revisiting an old haunt, wanting to see the scenery on the mountain, but like the detective, found the descent blocked by heavy snow, unable to leave, and could only stay temporarily.

Additionally, there was a hot-tempered hunter, a rebellious teenage girl, a sarcastic and insinuating middle-aged corporate drone, a consumptive ghost who was always yawning, and a neurotic, crazy beggar...

Finally, two people originally lived in the castle: one was a hunched, terrifying-looking old lady butler, and the other was a little girl who always spoke unclearly, waiting for her mom and dad to come home.

Each person in the group had their own circumstances, yet all gathered at the castle because of this heavy snow. In their conversations and mannerisms, each seemed to hide unknown secrets.

Soon, when the blizzard outside the window swept in once more, a murder occurred—

There were twelve actors on stage in total, each with distinctive attire. Even without a detailed introduction, the viewers in the stands could basically identify their respective identities and occupations. The arrangement of personnel wasn’t chaotic either; the actors on stage each had a reasonable position to ”stand by,” without affecting the presentation of the main storyline, making it very comfortable to watch.

On the contrary, the plot progression wasn’t as brilliant as the original.

After all, the original stage play of ”Twelve Mirrors” was a full two hours long, while this version was only twenty minutes. Basically, after outlining all the personality roles, it had to move into the murder case segment, so this part was heavily condensed. Gone was the kind of plot with constant twists and turns that made one’s skin crawl; it basically just progressed linearly as clues appeared.In the end, the detective discerns the truth, discovering that everyone in the castle is a villain—including himself.

A detective who solved countless cases but couldn’t avenge his own daughter, laughably confined himself within these ruins, repeatedly deducing the circumstances and truth of that year’s case, ultimately driving himself insane.

He stuffed these people’s souls into his own body and fabricated a lie, altering the truth.

—But the fact was, he couldn’t accept all this and split off these personalities, constantly forcing them to play the roles from that year.

When the detective on stage finally went mad, snatched the hunter’s rifle, and shot everyone except himself, the stage lights suddenly went pitch black for a moment.

The people below held their breath, silent and still.

In the darkness, something seemed to be brewing—

”Whoosh—”

The bright main light lit up again, shining solely on the person at the center of the stage.

A lonely young man sat dazedly on a chair, facing everyone.

His expression was pained and twisted, his hands clutching his head, then he abruptly slumped forward—

In that instant, the drapery covering behind him suddenly fell, revealing a massive mirror before the crowd, eliciting short gasps of surprise from everyone.

”What is that—”

”A mirror! Such a huge mirror!”

That enormous mirror, roughly five meters tall and three meters wide, stood behind the young man, reflecting not only the young man and the chair in its surface but also the viewers below and the distant stands.

Everyone’s initial surprise turned into anticipation, as if something major was about to happen.

Sure enough, the next moment, the young man lifted his head again.

The wise and steady detective had vanished, replaced by the melancholy, unfulfilled poet.

His eyelids drooped slightly, even the light in his eyes dimmed, his tightly pursed lips completely downturned, and even his straight back gained a hint of stiffness and timidity.

And behind the young man, the ”dead” poet reappeared, looking left and right into the mirror, his movements synchronized with the young man on the chair, but their speaking voices became the same timbre: ”So that’s how it is... So my letter can never be sent.”

Then, the actor playing the ”poet” calmly left the lit area, merging back into the darkness.

Immediately following was the explosive-tempered hunter.