Killer Actress: My Perfect Crime, His Perfect Love
Online, I'm labeled a whiny drama queen.
To humiliate me, netizens voted for me to join the hottest holographic crime reality show on the web.
On the show, I played the part of a weak, pitiful damsel, clinging to my powerful mogul boyfriend for protection, trembling in his arms.
"Babe, I'm scared," I whimpered.
The internet mocked me, calling me a pretty but useless accessory.
That is, until the show ended, and no one could figure out who the real killer was.
Then, a hidden camera in the corner released footage that changed everything.
There I was, smiling as I flawlessly portrayed a deranged murderer.
The audience was terrified: [Someone needs to investigate her.]
[That didn t look like acting. Her moves were way too practiced.]
[Drama queen or not, drag her to the police station for a background check.]
[Her methods are genuinely terrifying.]
I m the most renowned criminology expert in the interstellar realm, obsessed with studying the most twisted criminal cases.
But after solving the biggest serial killer case in interstellar history, I was gunned down by a colleague.
Why?
Because at the celebration banquet, I discovered he was the killer s biological father.
As I lay dying, I saw the rescue team rushing toward me before everything faded to black.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in the body of Ginger Rayne the internet s most despised Z-list starlet.
Embracing the idea of making the best of a bad situation, I quickly adapted to my new identity.
When my agent, Tina Shaw, found me, I was sprawled on the couch, gaming with my online boyfriend of three months.
I was sniping enemies from the bushes with deadly precision, yet moments later, I'd be on the mic, tearfully begging my "sweet boyfriend" to save me.
Seeing Tina walk in, I promptly exited the game.
In my past life, my identity as a criminology expert meant no one dared to pursue me, despite my innocent looks.
Even when I took a liking to a male colleague at the station and planned to make a move, he showed up the next day with a delicate boyfriend in tow.
Stammering, he said, I m& I m taken. Please, don t& don t bother me&
Then he scurried off, clearly intimidated.
I was heartbroken.
I vented my frustrations at a bar with my best friend, raging about how hard it was to just find a guy to share my bed with.
How could it be this difficult?
When I got home, I saw a post from that colleague on social media.
It was a photo of him kissing his new boyfriend.
So, he had a boyfriend, and I didn't.
Who could blame them?
My achievements were plastered all over the city.
Forget guys even murderers would scream and run at the sight of me.
So, after transmigrating, I jumped into online dating and snagged myself a boyfriend with an eight-pack.
To avoid scaring him off, I maintained my fragile, manipulative persona, playing the damsel in distress.
I had him blushing and flustered in no time.
Of course, I couldn t let my cover be blown now.
The third season of Perfect Crime is about to air," Tina said, her gaze filled with sympathy. "The guests were chosen by public vote, and unfortunately, you ve been selected.
Even though this was currently the most popular show online, Tina didn t see it as a good thing.
After all, Ginger s reputation was so bad that even drinking water could land her on the trending list for all the wrong reasons.
A holographic crime simulation show?
That was just asking for trouble.
I know you re timid and don t want to join this show, Tina continued.
But the company already signed the contract. If you back out, you ll have to pay a hefty penalty.
So, you have no choice but to participate.
I pulled out my phone and searched for info about the show.
When I saw it was a holographic crime simulation program, a smile crept across my face.
Alright.
Tina sighed.
Don t be too nervous. The other guests include award-winning actor Matt Keller and rising actress Sophie Reed.
Are you okay with that?
Matt Keller was Ginger s ex-boyfriend.
When I transmigrated into her body, it was the very day Matt and Sophie publicly announced their relationship.
The original Ginger had slit her wrists in despair.
In her memories, she was obsessed with Matt, unable to let go even after he unilaterally ended things.
She d repeatedly tried to win him back, even pulling manipulative stunts on set by pretending to be scared and crying in his arms.
Of course, her actions were exposed online, and the internet branded her a whiny drama queen.
So, to keep watching Ginger make a fool of herself, netizens voted for me to join this show.
Sure, I m fine with it.
Tina was worried I d be scared, given it was a crime simulation show.
I sent a quick message to my boyfriend, letting him know I d be away on a business trip.
Then I looked up at her with a grin.
Relax.
This is my field of expertise.
How could I possibly be the one getting scared?
The next morning, I followed the address Tina gave me and arrived at the filming location.
It was a grand Seaside Victorian Manor.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was within the live broadcast range.
[Yo, Ginger Rayne actually showed up?]
[Someone like her on a crime show?]
[Of course she s here. How else is she gonna cling to our boy and cry her eyes out again?]
[LOL, I ve already got my shiny new keyboard ready to roast her when she messes up.]
Other guests started arriving at the main hall one by one.
There were five of us in total two men and three women.
The male guests were the award-winning actor Matt Keller and top idol Leo Vance.
The female guests were rising actress Sophie Reed, internet influencer Zoe Carter, and me the internet s most hated Z-list starlet.
After brief introductions, we settled down to wait for the director to assign tasks and roles.
As per the show s tradition, one of us would be given the role of the killer.
Their job was to commit the perfect murder during the show.
The rest of us had to find clues and identify the killer hidden among the guests.
If we failed to expose the killer, they would win.
But if we successfully deduced their identity based on the clues, the killer would be eliminated, and we d win.
Sitting on the couch, I caught Matt Keller s disdainful glance.
For a split second, I blanked, unable to recall who he was.
Sophie, sitting nearby, noticed and immediately teared up.
Ginger Rayne, can you stop being so shameless? she snapped.
You re staring straight at Matt right in front of me. Don t you think that s too much?
Her words hung in the air as the others stayed silent, quietly observing.
Their gazes toward me now carried a hint of scrutiny.
Sophie was fuming, as if I d just tried to steal her man.
Seeing her on the verge of tears, Matt quickly stood and pulled her into his arms to comfort her.
He shot me a look of disgust.
It s okay. She can t take me away from you. I ll always be yours.
Only then did Sophie calm down.
The live chat exploded:
[Wait, what just happened? I didn t see anything.]
[Ginger was totally staring at Matt. She s got some nerve.]
[Sophie almost cried from anger.]
[Uh, weak take here, but I only saw Ginger glance at Matt for a second. Isn't Sophie overreacting?]
[Overreacting? Sophie wouldn t be this furious over nothing. She must have given him one of her signature suggestive looks.]
I quietly picked up a fruit knife from the table beside me.
I remembered a trick I d learned from a senior during my criminology days.
Besides criminal psychology and murder cases, I d also studied human anatomy in college.
The move she taught me was called the Thirty-Six Slashes.
Each cut targeted the most painful spots on the body, yet after all thirty-six, the victim would only have minor injuries.
It was perfect for dealing with a crazy couple like this.
I won t deny I can be a bit brutal.
It comes with the territory of my expertise.
But man, it s satisfying.
Just as I was about to stand, the final guest arrived.
It was Quentin Knight.
He saw me, and there was no surprise in his eyes.
Instead, they lit up with a mix of delight and shyness.
Perhaps recalling something, the tips of his ears turned red.
With all the guests present, the production team briefly explained the rules before having us lie down in the VR simulation pods.
Before entering my pod, I glanced at Quentin across from me.
What a coincidence.
As the pod door closed, the next second, we found ourselves inside an old, rickety bus.
Besides us, there was a middle-aged driver and a man with a beer belly.
Halfway up a mountain, the bus jolted to a stop.
The driver put on a raincoat, grabbed a hammer, and got out.
A moment later, he shouted from outside, Someone come help me!
We exchanged wary looks.
No one dared to step out.
Matt wrapped an arm around Sophie s shoulders.
Don t be afraid. I m here.
Everyone knew the plot had begun.
[It s starting, it s starting! Who s gonna be the first to die?]
[Probably the driver.]
[Who s the killer, though?]
After a long wait with the bus still not moving, the others decided to get out and check.
As I prepared to follow, Sophie stopped me.
Ginger, why don t you stay on the bus? We won t have time to look after you.
I glanced at the beer-bellied man whose eyes were fixed on me, then lowered my gaze.
Alright.
After the others left, the beer-bellied man s stare lingered on my waist and legs.
He stood and approached with a sleazy grin.
Hey, beautiful, you look just like my first love.
I noticed two things: a news flash on the bus's TV about an escaped convict, and the corner of a disposable glove peeking out of his pocket.
I smiled.
Game on.
The screen reported that a convicted rapist had escaped from prison.
His signature was forcing victims to wear a red dress before assaulting them a color often tied to danger or seduction in stories like this.
Afterward, he d inject them with a drug to dilute bodily fluids.
He d been sentenced to life, but a few days ago, he escaped through the sewers.
Really? I asked, feigning fear as I stepped back.
His eyes gleamed with interest, clearly pleased with my reaction.
Luckily, Quentin returned.
He frowned, sizing up the fat man.
Stay away from him when you re alone, he whispered to me.
I nodded obediently.
Just like I d done recently, I tossed out flirty lines without hesitation.
Standing on my tiptoes, I whispered in his ear, I only want to be alone with you, babe.
Quentin s ears turned red.
Right now, everyone s attention was outside the bus.
No one would notice us here.
The bus couldn t be fixed.
We had no choice but to spend the night inside.
The next morning, the driver instructed us to find suitable planks.
After the heavy rain, the mountain dirt roads were even muddier.
The tires were stuck, and there was no way to drive out.
Sophie and I were tasked with finding dry grass to place near the tires for traction.
But within minutes, Sophie ditched me to go find Matt.
I had to head into the mountains alone.
Behind me, the beer-bellied man s voice called out.
Hey, little lady, why are you out here by yourself?
There could be wild animals up here. This place is remote and dangerous.
Come with me instead.
I looked at him and nodded.
Sure.
I glanced toward Sophie in the distance.
But all I saw was her evasive gaze before she hurried away.
The fat man led me to an abandoned old house on the mountain.
There should be planks inside.
Let s go together.
I hesitated visibly.
Is that okay?
He stammered nervously, What s wrong with it? Don t you want to get off this mountain?
Of course I didn t.
I just wanted& to kill.
Because the role card I drew was the killer.
As I turned to follow the fat man to the abandoned cabin, the live chat went wild:
[Ginger Rayne is so dumb, isn t she?]
[That guy obviously has bad intentions.]
[What do we do? Should we call the cops?]
[Call the cops for what? Some women just like to play coy. She followed him in, didn t she? That means she s willing. Besides, this is a VR simulation. Who s gonna care?]
The door to the abandoned house was kicked open by Quentin.
I was holding a few planks, about to head out.
Seeing Quentin, I put on a surprised expression.
How did you guys get here?
Quentin didn t say anything.
After confirming I was safe, he sighed in relief and scanned the surroundings.
Matt couldn t hold back.
Sophie brought us here to find you. How could you come to a place like this with that man?
You ve got no self-respect.
You should thank Sophie. She s the one who insisted we come save you, worried something might happen.
I gave Sophie, whose face was pale, a leisurely glance.
I d already finished the kill two hours ago, and they're only just now coming to "rescue" me?
How thoughtful.
Matt finished speaking and looked around.
Where s that fat guy?
I pointed toward the dilapidated back door.
He went out to look for dry grass and told me to wait here.
Sophie s complexion improved.
Why did it take you so long?
I smiled.
I don t know. He just never came back.
The others expressions immediately turned grim.
At that moment, a notification sound chimed from the crime simulation system s screen.
Let s go look for him, someone suggested.
As the group prepared to leave, Quentin quietly lingered at the back and grabbed my hand.
Are you okay?
I shook my head.
As for that fat guy?
They probably wouldn t find him.
I turned my head, glancing at the beam of the abandoned house.
There he was, limbs dangling, hanging from above.
Just moments ago, he d been right over Matt s head, and yet not a single person noticed.
I flashed a brilliant smile in that direction.
The camera only captured my expression, completely missing the fat man hanging from the beam in a red dress.
Honestly, this crime simulation show was kind of fun.
Compared to textbook cases or solving real crimes, I quite enjoyed this immersive experience.
I even found myself brainstorming my next move.
Should I attempt a perfect body disposal next time?
Disposal is a pretty basic method, but it s also the easiest way to leave behind clues and slip up.
The group searched everywhere but couldn t find the fat man.
Luckily, the planks I found helped get the bus out of the mud pit.
The bus wound along the mountain roads and finally, at 4:30 PM, arrived at a remote town called Ravenwood Hollow, styled like a quaint New England village.
There was a small inn in town that offered both food and lodging.
The ground floor was a diner, and the upper floors had rooms for guests.
As we entered, a plainly dressed proprietress greeted us warmly, showering compliments on our appearances.
Everyone started to relax.
I glanced at the shoes on her feet and narrowed my eyes.
My memory has always been sharp.
When we first boarded the bus, the driver was wearing the exact same style of shoes.
Later, when the bus got stuck in the mud, he swapped them for black rain boots from beside his seat.
Then he put on a raincoat and got out.
And those shoes matched the ones the proprietress was wearing now.
The others ordered food and sat down.
I watched the proprietress bring dishes out from the back courtyard and smiled.
Ma am, are you running this place all by yourself? That must be exhausting.
She instinctively glanced at the driver but quickly looked away, chuckling awkwardly.
Yeah, my husband works on a construction site. He s gone for months at a time.
Her face carried a hint of loneliness as she spoke.
Sophie frowned and scolded me.
Ginger, watch how you speak.
The proprietress waved it off.
No worries, no worries. You folks eat up. I ll get back to cooking.
I didn t bother responding to Sophie.
Instead, I called out loudly, Ma am, where s the restroom?
The driver instinctively stood up.
But he quickly sat back down.
The proprietress pointed me in a direction.
I headed upstairs, knocking on each door one by one.
Clearly, no one was inside.
I made my way to the rooftop and discovered the truth in a stainless steel water tank.
No wonder my kill mission was for three people.
There were only two on the bus at the time.
After dinner, we returned to our respective rooms to rest.
In the middle of the night, I got up and slipped out.
That night, everyone received a message from the production team.
Simulation Crime: 3/3
As the notification appeared on the screen, everyone hurried out of their rooms into the hallway.
After confirming all the guests were present, they frowned.
Where s the driver?
Exchanging glances, they decided to search for him.
They even knocked on the proprietress s door.
This inn wasn t large; she lived on the first floor.
No response.
The doors used smart locks common in hotels once closed, they could only be opened with a keycard.
But all the spare keycards, except for our rooms, were with the proprietress.
Quentin grabbed a stool and smashed the door open.
Inside, the proprietress lay on the floor, lifeless.
Quentin searched around and found all the keycards in her safe.
The keycard for her own room was on her bedside table.
During the search, they also found a spare keycard for the driver s room.
They opened it, but the room was empty.
The only clues were on the proprietress.
We returned to the first floor.
Looking at her body on the ground, Quentin asked me and the other two women to check for any wounds.
After a thorough inspection, the other two shook their heads.
They even used a portable fingerprint scanner.
All they found were a bunch of random prints, none of which matched ours.
The live chat buzzed:
[This is so weird. This season s crime simulation is extra strange.
The fat guy completely vanished, and now the driver s gone too.]
[How was the proprietress killed with no visible wounds?]
[Exactly. In past seasons, people didn t just disappear, and it wasn t this creepy.]
[Her keycard was in her room. So how did the killer get in?]
The mystery deepened.
Quentin sat to the side, brows furrowed.
Keep looking. The driver has to still be in this building.
But after searching everywhere, we still came up empty.
We had no choice but to return to our rooms.
As I left, I glanced at the lock on the proprietress s door.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Then, pretending to be scared, I burrowed into Quentin s arms.
Babe, I m a little scared.
Silently, I slipped something into his pocket.
The third day arrived.
The atmosphere was heavy.
If we couldn t identify the killer today, we d lose.
Of course, guessing wrong would also mean defeat.
Everyone started using the process of elimination.
In the end, the other two unanimously decided Matt was the killer.
Sophie panicked when she heard this.
How could it be?
She d gone to Matt s room in the middle of the night and asked him.
She knew it wasn t him.
And it wasn t her either.
Her gaze landed on Quentin.
It s him. It has to be him.
Quentin chuckled lightly.
Where s the evidence?
Sophie fell silent.
With such a perfect crime, how could she possibly find clues or evidence?
It wasn t her, it wasn t Matt, and given Quentin s calm demeanor yesterday, she somehow felt it had to be him.
The other two exchanged a look and nodded in agreement.
I sat to the side.
No need to guess. It s me.
Matt gave me a complicated look.
Ginger, this isn't how you get attention. Sophie s trying to figure out who the killer is.
You re already moving on with Quentin just to spite me, and now you re trying to take the fall for him as the killer?
His words dripped with advice to behave myself.
I shrugged.
I told them, but no one believed me.
As time ran out, everyone voted for Quentin.
I, on the other hand, voted for myself.
Unfortunately, Quentin got more votes than I did.
We were transported back to the VR simulation pods.
When we woke up, the production team had prepared seats for us.
The host announced that the guests had failed.
So, who was the killer?
The staff member gave a mysterious smile.
Tune in tomorrow at the same time. Don t miss it.
Everyone s curiosity was piqued.
But we all knew this was how Nexus TV operated.
So, we had no choice but to head home.
Netizens, of course, weren t having it:
[Why not just reveal it now?]
[Seriously, leaving us hanging like this is so annoying.]
[Was the killer really Quentin? I don t think so. Honestly, I watched the whole thing and didn t spot a single clue.]
[This season s difficulty is insane.]
After returning home, I received a message from the production team.
Tomorrow, they d reveal my identity.
Sure enough.
We arrived at the studio and took our seats.
The staff was about to unveil the truth.
I nervously glanced at Quentin s spot, only to see he wasn t there.
My phone buzzed with a message from him.
[Got a fever. Couldn t make it today.]
I breathed a sigh of relief.
The next message was a photo.
A handsome man with an ice pack on his head, wearing a dark robe that hung open, revealing his toned chest.
His ears and that overly refined face were flushed red.
A fever?
Well, a little heat isn t so bad.
The screen displayed footage captured by hidden cameras.
First scene:
In the cabin, I looked terrified as I faced the beer-bellied man.
I watched as he pulled out a red dress.
Be a good girl and put this on.
I took the dress.
Feeling the tough, high-quality nylon fabric, I smiled.
Grabbing a plank nearby, I knocked the fat man out.
Then I hung him from the beam.
Since he was unconscious when I strung him up, there were no signs of struggle.
Soon, his limbs went completely limp.
Afterward, I restored the marks on the ground where he d fallen.
Ensuring there were no issues, I sat on a rickety stool, waiting calmly.
The entire process was meticulous and composed.
Netizens watching felt chills down their spines:
[She s so calm?]
[The killer was Ginger Rayne?]
[She s terrifying. She even fixed the flattened grass where the fat guy fell.]
The footage shifted.
It showed me and Quentin s group leaving the cabin.
On screen, my head turned, and I smiled toward the fat man hanging from the beam.
The frame froze on that moment.
[Ahhh, that s so creepy!]
[Someone needs to investigate her. Isn t she supposed to be a manipulative crybaby? This looks more like a ruthless predator!]
[Has Ginger ever committed a crime before?]
[How did she calculate the exact height to hang that guy so no one would see him? His feet were literally right above Matt s head!]
Second scene:
At the small inn.
After everyone had eaten and was heading back to their rooms to rest, the driver flashed a creepy smile.
As I passed his room behind the others, I stuck a piece of gum on his door lock.
He closed the door, and the seam shut tight.
I turned my head and smiled.
In the dead of night, I opened the driver s door, holding a towel.
While he slept, I tightened it around his neck.
Then, I neatly placed the towel on his body.
I began erasing traces.
Using a bath towel, I dragged him to the rooftop.
Anyone else might have been exhausted by now.
But luckily, I m pretty strong.
When I opened the lid of the water tank, the sight inside nearly made me gag.
This place was clearly a front for something sinister.
I only realized after inspecting that this inn was likely where the driver brought guests.
It was a slaughterhouse for men, who were killed and dumped without a second thought.
The women were treated as breeding stock, forced into surrogacy and tormented by the driver and proprietress until they conceived.
If they failed, they were eliminated.
I d glimpsed medication in the proprietress s room drugs used to treat infertility.
After tossing him in, I put on gloves and smoothed out the wrinkled carpet in the hallway.
Then I wiped my fingerprints off the door handle.
After removing the gum, I cleaned the lock with alcohol.
When I went downstairs again, I easily pushed open the proprietress s door.
The driver s keychain had her room s keycard.
Inside, I saw her holding her phone, trying to contact the driver.
Why isn t he picking up, that jerk?
I smiled.
Of course, because I d turned off his phone.
First, search for and download the Novellia app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "435548" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
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