"So, just because you don't want to be criticized, you want me to admit to something I didn't do?" I uttered coldly.

However, my attitude seemed to anger Captain Jenkins.

"What sort of attitude is that? Who do you think you are? Let me tell it to you straight—anyone who comes in here has to adhere to our rules and obey us, no matter who they are! You absolutely refuse to come clean, right? That's alright! We have plenty of ways to loosen your lips!"

He stood up and gazed down at me imperiously.

"Lock him up and wait for the search warrant! Once we have it, we'll turn his house upside down! I refuse to believe we won't find any evidence!"

The door opened, and two police officers entered to grab me by the arms.

I didn't resist, for I knew that the moment Rebecca called the police, I had already fallen for an elaborate trap. Since they had the guts to do something like this, that meant that they would have done the necessary preparations.

I was certain that what would happen next was the police "finding" some "evidence" in my house, which would result in me being thoroughly branded with this shame.

…

The metal door swung shut behind me with a deep thud as I was locked into a temporary detainment cell.

The room was incredibly small, with only a hard slab for a bed and a toilet bowl. The cloying smell of disinfectant mixed with the despair that hung heavy in the air.

With my hands outstretched, I slowly fumbled my way over to the bed and sat down to quietly listen to the noises outside my cell.

The sound of footsteps echoed up and down the corridor as the police officers went about their business. I could hear a few of them talking to each other in low voices.

"That's the pervert who peeped on that woman showering?"

"He looks like such an ordinary man. Who would've thought he would do something so repulsive?"

"I heard that he claims to be blind. It must be an act, right?"

"Who knows? Either way, he's dead meat. Of all the people he could've offended, it had to be a female white-collar worker."

Their words stabbed into my ears like countless tiny needles.

I had long since grown used to the darkness, but this was the first time that darkness felt bone-chillingly cold.

Roughly two hours later, the metal door swung open once more.

It was Captain Jenkins, holding a transparent evidence bag. A smug smile painted his face as he waved it at me.

"Mr. Luson, look at what I've got here."

He seemed to have forgotten that I couldn't see.

Nonetheless, he was quick to reveal the answer to his question, his tone practically dripping with satisfaction.

"We found this beneath the window at your unit. It's a pair of military-grade binoculars! We also discovered this!"

He took out another evidence bag that contained a digital camera.

"Tons of humiliating photos of Ms. Zangler were found on this camera, with many taken from different angles! What do you have to say for yourself now?"

I remained silent, but deep inside, I was shocked.

They clearly hadn't wasted any time in planting the evidence.

Captain Jenkins took my silence as an admission of guilt.

Pulling a chair over, he sat down across from me and began lecturing me in the way an elder would talk to a younger person.

"Mr. Luson, you're still so young, and you have relatively decent looks. There are plenty of things you could've done to earn money, so why did you resort to something so disgusting?

"With all this concrete evidence, there's no point in you denying it any longer. Hurry up and sign this, and I might be able to help you plead for a lighter sentence from the judge."

He held out a form and a pen.

"Come on, sign it. The quicker we get this over with, the better it is for everyone."

I took note of the impatient and flippant tone in his voice.

He clearly didn't care about the truth; he just wanted to close the case as soon as possible.

Slowly raising my head, I gazed in his direction.

"Captain Jenkins, if I sign this, does that mean I'm admitting to all the charges?"

"But of course!"

"So, I'll be sentenced to prison for voyeurism and distribution of obscene materials?"

"That's right. These crimes will get you a combined sentence of at least three years."

"Then my name, my life, will forever be branded with the title of 'pervert'?"

Captain Jenkins finally lost all patience with me.

"What's with the incessant questions? You did this to yourself and are only reaping what you've sown! You can't blame anyone else but yourself for this!"

I laughed, the sound echoing in the room eerily.

"You're right. Who else can I blame?" I muttered to myself.

Then, I reached out and felt around till I brushed against the statement record.

Just as Captain Jenkins thought I would sign it, I mustered every bit of strength in my body to tear it into shreds.

The scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like falling snow.

Captain Jenkins was utterly dumbfounded, clearly not expecting that I would dare do that.

"You… Are you nuts?" He jumped to his feet and jabbed a finger at me, yelling, "You're resisting arrest, which is an additional charge that will make things worse for you!"

Meeting his fury head-on, I calmly said, "I won't admit to something I didn't do. You can fabricate the evidence, or you can beat me up. Whatever you do, don't think that you can make me submit. You want me to confess to those crimes? Well, over my dead body."

My words had the same effect as if a resounding slap was sent across his cheek. His face reddened, then purpled.

"Alright! Fine!" His entire body was trembling from the extent of his rage. "You have guts, I'll give you that! Let's see just how much you can take, then!"

Following that, he spun on his heel and stomped toward the door, where he bellowed, "Men, cuff him up and submit an official detainment form! I'll make him learn what the authority of the law truly is!"

Seconds later, two officers rushed inside and roughly yanked me off the bed. Once again, I had cuffs slapped over my wrists, but this time, they were much tighter, enough to cause me pain.

With the officers shoving me from behind, I could only stumble my way forward.

At that moment, my phone rang. The monotonous electronic voice typical of a blind-accessible phone then spoke up, telling me I had a call.

Impatience radiated from one of the police officers, and he moved to hang up.

However, I said, "Let me answer it."

My voice was calm and steady, leaving no room for negotiation.

The officers hesitated, only for Captain Jenkins to shout, "As if! Take him away!"

"If this phone call causes you to miss the 'truth' you're so eager to uncover, you'll have to bear the consequences yourselves."

That had Captain Jenkins freezing on the spot and shooting me a suspicious look.

In the end, though, he still gestured for one of the officers to hand me my phone.

I felt around till I found the "accept" button and pressed it. Immediately, a familiar female voice came over the line, tone cold and distant.

"Mr. Luson, it's me, your landlady. I'm giving you three days to move out of my house. I don't want a disgusting pervert staying in my unit."

The woman was none other than my landlady, Mary Liese. Not a hint of warmth was in her voice.

"Mrs. Liese, it's not what you think," I attempted to explain.

"I don't want to hear it!" She cut me off harshly. "I just know that you moved in, and a week later, such an ugly mess happened! The residents' group chat is exploding with messages as everyone is cursing me for renting the place out to you! How am I supposed to rent out that unit in the future? What about my reputation?"

Her voice grew increasingly shrill as she spoke, and it was filled with her fury at being dragged into this matter.

"Mr. Luson, I don't care whether you're truly a pervert or if you're innocent. You only get three days! If you're not moved out by then, I'll have people come in to throw all your belongings out!"

With that, she ended the call, not even waiting for me to respond.

A dead silence descended upon the room.

A gloating expression appeared on Captain Jenkins' face. "Hear that? Feels terrible to be betrayed by everyone you know, doesn't it?"

He then jerked his head at his subordinates. "Take him away!"

I was escorted down a long corridor, but this time, there was no discussion happening in low voices. Instead, everyone stared at me in the way one would look at a piece of trash.

I was shoved into a police car that would take me to the city detention center. Once there, I would wait for my trial.

Outside the windows, the bustling city flashed by before slowly disappearing into the distance behind us. Meanwhile, all I could do was lean against the cold side door and feel my body vibrate along with the vehicle.

Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me under and drown me.

At that moment, my phone rang again. When I accepted the call, the calm, emotionless voice of a female spoke up in a professional tone.

"Mr. Luson, I'm Teresa Kinsley, a lawyer from the legal aid office. I'm now taking over your case."

I blinked in surprise. She was from the legal aid office? But I hadn't applied for any help.

"The police requested it for you," Teresa explained as though she could guess my thoughts. "According to the rules for your situation, a lawyer has to be present."

I understood then.

This was all normal procedure, but in my case, it was a mere formality that we were going through. This Teresa woman had likely already decided that I was guilty, just like Captain Jenkins and everyone else had. She was probably going to advise me to admit to the crimes, then have me sign a bunch of documents.

"I have nothing to say to you," I croaked in a tired voice. "I'm not guilty."

There were several seconds of silence on the phone.

I thought that she would start to lecture me just like Captain Jenkins had, but she didn't.

Instead, she said in a business-like tone, "I've already looked into your case with the police. They found a pair of binoculars and a camera full of illicit photos at your house. Besides that, the victim's testimony is detailed and consistent, while many of your neighbors can testify that you were acting suspiciously. All in all, everything is pointing toward you being guilty."

Her every word smashed into my heart like the blows from a sledgehammer.

"If you insist on pleading not guilty, then once the case goes to trial and the judge accepts the evidence, your sentence will only be harsher."

I shut my eyes, but no tears came.

"So, are you also going to talk me into pleading guilty?"

"No." Teresa's answer stunned me. "I'm not here to persuade you into admitting to the crimes. I'm your lawyer, so my responsibility is to defend your legal rights. Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me. Please speak the truth."

Subsequently, she rattled off some questions with the cool precision of a machine.

"Firstly, are the binoculars and camera yours?"

"No."

"Second question. Were you acquainted with the plaintiff, Rebecca Zangler, before this? Or did you have any interactions with her?"

"No, we weren't acquainted, nor did I ever interact with her."

"Third question. Other than your vision, are your other senses, such as your hearing, more acute than a normal human's?"

That question caused my heart to skip a beat.

She was the first person who had ever thought about the possible changes to my body due to my vision loss.

"Yes."

"Okay."

I thought I could detect a faint hint of emotion enter her voice as she went on, "Mr. Luson, the police will hand you over to the city detention center in half an hour. Before that happens, they'll have you sign a detention notice. Don't sign anything they give you. Just wait for me to arrive."

With that, she ended the call.

I squeezed my phone and realized that a thin layer of sweat had formed on my originally icy palms.