The entire day, the television seemed to broadcast only one piece of news.
This day was a carnival for all the media across America.
In order to unearth the inside story of this shocking tragedy, the reporters exhibited incredible initiative. They hired top hackers, disguised as cleaners to sneak into the police station, spent large sums to bribe key figures, racing against time to expose the truth to the public.
So, before noon, the emergency news once again captured people's attention, with rapidly emerging footage collected from various channels—
First was a black and white surveillance clip, showing luxury cars silently gliding into the manor gates, and some people could identify who exactly the passengers were just by the appearance of the vehicles.
The footage was silent, with the bottom right corner featuring a broadcaster clutching some papers, reading out the identities and names of the guests with a trembling voice.
Those prominent titles, those well-known names, all appeared on the deceased list at that moment.
To the left of the reporter was the continuously scrolling images of the deceased, with faces seeming still to wear satisfied smiles of triumph.
Although this segment was quite mundane, almost all viewers watched it with great interest, reluctant to change the channel.
In the bustling stock exchange, every name pronounced prompted roars or cheers from the crowd, and the line on the screen fluctuated more violently than an electrocardiograph.
Then came a segment clearly captured by a hidden camera, showing somewhat blurry footage:
20:13.
Inside the opulent banquet hall, guests filled the seats, everyone wearing masks, yet their composure and luxurious attire were unmistakably evident.
On the stage, some sort of fashion show seemed to be taking place, with graceful models coming and going, capturing the rapt attention of the surrounding guests who appeared entirely engrossed.
20:25.
Guests began collapsing one after another, and those trying to escape were silenced by the guards, with some even beaten bloody.
Subsequently, guards stepped forward, swiftly dragging away the unconscious as if they were dragging corpses.
20:51.
Under the satisfied gaze of Sir William and others, another group of "people" came in through the side door—dressed, built, and even in the subtle habits of walking, they were almost indistinguishable from the just-dragged-out guests, sending chills down one's spine!
Midway through the footage, it suddenly turned into a flurry of static, obscuring what happened next.
The bottom right corner image quickly enlarged, with the host gravely stating:
"The police claimed that an attack suddenly occurred at the scene, damaging the devices and causing a loss of the subsequent footage."
"But this footage alone is sufficient to prove that what the Stonefield Clan orchestrated was an unprecedented scale of 'identity swap' conspiracy!"
"Finally, after much effort, reporters tracked down someone who was supposed to be in the substitution plan—"
"Let's take a look at the interview."
The camera panned to a sparse guest room, where a woman appeared skittish and evasive-eyed, sitting uneasily on a simple chair, shifting anxiously.
"I didn't know... I didn't know they intended to do this..."
Her voice trembled as she said: "I... I used to be called Mary Chabu, a few years ago I got kicked out by my father for not finding a job, and turned into a vagrant."
"That winter, when I was about to freeze to death, someone found me, said I looked good... He promised a high-paying job, provided I followed their orders."
"I thought... I thought at most it would be that kind of thing… so I agreed… never expected this…"
She covered her face, sobbing softly for a moment, then said:
"They took me for surgery… cosmetic surgery, turned me into this look! I'm clearly only twenty-one this year!"
In the footage, was a face that looked at least fifty, with deep nasolabial folds giving her a bitter expression.
But regular news watchers know, a woman with the same face is a serious, meticulous, and dignified person.
Mary Chabu timidly said: "They showed me many photos, videos, taught me how to walk, talk, and cough like that person... practiced for two whole years."
"I said I didn't want to do this, I wanted to leave... but they would punish me severely. Hunger was basic... sometimes poorly practiced, would even be electrocuted in the chair..."
At this point, her eyes showed a bizarre numbness, suddenly stood up, moved to the open space in the room, and took a deep breath.
When she looked up again, her entire demeanor drastically changed—shoulders subtly pulling back, chin lifted, steps accompanied by a deliberately slow composure, right hand habitually loosely held, as if ready to shake hands with someone anytime.
"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight with you all."
She spoke with what sounded like an incredibly arrogant tone, even her voice was almost identical to the original person!
The screen suddenly split, and on the right appeared the original person she imitated, invited as a guest to the television station, at this moment staring in utter shock at the emulated posture.
"I... I can only say..." the woman also took a deep breath, fearfully said: "If I encountered this person, I would even suspect a second me emerged in this world!"
After mimicking a few sequences, Mary Chabu in the footage suddenly relaxed, then fell back onto the chair, and said dreamily, seemingly unsure if she was frightened or perplexed:
"Last night, the person I was supposed to mimic didn't show up... they told me no need to go to the venue... but all the others living in the same building as me, they all went... and none came back… no one came back…"