All Chapters of Who Took My Chicken Curry?: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

I looked at the expensive silk pajamas the thief was wearing and the collection of limited-edition designer sneakers neatly arranged in the shoe rack by the entrance. My anger curdled into a cold, absurd calmness.I laughed from sheer rage. "A beggar? Excuse me, miss, but it seems your family and education never taught you about theft. Well, stealing someone else's property is called theft under the law. And under morality, it is called shamelessness. "Are all those designer brands you wear bought with whatever scraps of decency you have left?""Hey! Watch your mouth!" she snapped, her expression darkening instantly. "Theft? When did you ever see me stealing? I just picked up the wrong delivery. People mix up deliveries every day. You're the one being dramatic, installing trackers and everything. How disgusting can you be?""You picked up the wrong delivery?" I held up my phone, opened my order history, and questioned, "I've had four deliveries stolen this week alone! And every si

"Declan Cordery, you lunatic! Are you really so hell-bent on ruining me?" Francine screamed, tears finally spilling down her face."I didn't ruin you," I said, looking at her and letting out a cold laugh. "You ruined yourself with your cheap sense of superiority and your ignorance of the law."I turned and walked out of the police station.Behind me, the interview room was filled with Deborah's sharp cries and the sound of Bill making phone calls, trying to pull whatever strings he could.But it was all too late. I believed the law would uphold my legitimate rights. And sometimes, the iron fist of the law struck faster than anyone would expect. Bill was certainly wealthy and had plenty of connections. He tried to prove that Francine had merely picked up the wrong delivery, but he missed two things.The first was that I had blurred out the faces and uploaded the video of me tracking down the thief last night to social media. The caption was simple. "Luxury cars, mansions, LV bags

That night, at 11:50 pm, all the lights across campus had already been turned off. I avoided the resident advisor and patrolling security guards and hurried toward the old anatomy building of the medical school.The building, due to its age, had long been abandoned and was usually completely deserted. Eerie moonlight spilled over the mottled walls, adding to the sinister atmosphere. At the end of the corridor on the second floor, a dim light glowed from an office.I pushed the door open to find a man sitting inside, intently focused on a tablet screen."You're here, Declan," he said without looking up. "I'm Hunter Steadman, a senior majoring in forensic medicine, and I'm currently interning at the Criminal Investigations Unit.""Were you the one who sent me the email?" I asked, walking up to him. "What exactly is this truth you mentioned?"Hunter turned off the tablet and looked up at me. His eyes held an almost clinical rationality. "Everyone out there thinks you drove Francine t

I walked back to the dorm with the USB drive tightly clenched in my hand. So it turned out that this whole setup had a larger power structure behind it.The school, eager to cover up some sordid scandal, or maybe to curry favor with Merrick Corporation's investments, hadn't hesitated to make me the scapegoat to quell this murder case triggered by "delivery theft".The next morning, public backlash hit its peak. Merrick Corporation's hired trolls flooded the internet with posts. Several influencers with massive followings even published long articles, digging into my family background and trying to paint me as a dark, resentful, antisocial extremist."Uncovering the Student Behind Greyfriars' Suicide Case—A Withdrawn Personality, Frequent Conflicts, and a Troubling Pattern of Behavior.""Expert Analysis: How a Troubled Student's Twisted Psychology Gradually Pushed an Innocent Young Woman Toward Death."The school took action at an alarming speed. At 8:00 am, an expulsion notice was