The room was draped in an awful silence when Fon Shichi was brought in. The once-charming celebrity sat across from investigators, his head bowed, his voice barely a whisper against the weight of his cold, metal handcuffs. What began as a routine line of questioning quickly spiraled into a gruesome revelation that sent shockwaves across the nation, concerning the mysterious death of actor Yu Menglong.

For weeks, forensic specialists had painstakingly pieced together data—video clips, encrypted chats, and deleted files—all recovered from a single phone previously owned by Fon Shichi. When the final layer of data was restored, the room fell completely still. What they uncovered would drastically change the narrative from an accidental death to an organized act of extreme cruelty.

The first recovered file, labeled simply: “Schedule,” was far more sinister than a timetable. It contained a chilling sequence of dates, coded phrases, and notes that betrayed premeditation:

Room 303 – preparation. Observation – 22:15. Compound dose – red label. Voice control.

Each entry was followed by sets of initials—seventeen in total—believed to correspond to the individuals present during the tragic night. The level of detail suggested the events were not chaotic but an orchestrated act—planned, timed, and executed with precision.

The Interrogation: A Crack in the Composure

When confronted with the damning evidence, Fon Shichi’s composure instantly fractured. His lips trembled, and he avoided eye contact.

“I didn’t think it would go that far,” he murmured. “We were told it was a test… a setup for a role. They said he agreed to it.”

The officer across the table slid forward a still image from one of the recovered videos—a single, frozen frame that had already shaken the world: Yu Menglong’s face twisted in agony, his lips parted in a desperate, unreleased plea.

Fon’s hands clenched; his breathing grew shallow. “He was crying,” he whispered. “He kept saying he couldn’t breathe. Someone laughed. Someone said, ‘Keep filming.’ I told them to stop… I think I did. But no one listened.”

The Files: Unspeakable Acts Recorded

The recovered videos narrated a sequence of events too horrific to comprehend. From the first frame, cruelty pervaded every second: the sound of laughter, the shuffle of shoes on a hard floor, the metallic drag of an object. Yu Menglong attempts to rise, his body shaking violently.

A man’s voice—later identified as Fon’s—can be heard off-camera: “Enough. Turn it off.” But the camera never ceased recording.

In one of the most haunting clips, Yu’s fractured, gasping voice cuts through the noise: “Don’t hurt my mother… please.” Shadows move around him—seventeen figures, circling, taunting, commanding. A woman’s laughter echoes, followed by a chorus of jeers.

Investigators later synchronized the moment with a timestamp from a recovered text message: “Schedule 3 – Record his reaction. Control his tone.” The messages were written in cold, clinical language, reducing human suffering to an experiment.

A “Performance” Turned Nightmare

“They told me it was performance art,” Fon stated during questioning. “That the camera was part of an experimental film. I thought… I thought it was fake.”

However, the data told a different story. Forensic experts recovered 168 deleted files, each meticulously labeled. Some were short clips of Yu in distress. Others detailed chemicals, dosages, and timestamps.

One folder, “Sound Test,” stood out. It contained audio samples of Yu’s voice: crying, gasping, whispering “stop,” and “why.” Experts suspect these clips were synchronized or manipulated as part of psychological conditioning.

One chilling text exchange was recovered:

FS: He’s too weak. It’s not going to look right.
Unknown: That’s fine. Weakness is the point.
FS: He keeps asking for water.
Unknown: Don’t give him any yet. We need the full reaction.

While Fon denied sending the messages, forensic analysis confirmed his fingerprints, facial recognition data, and activity logs aligned perfectly with the timestamps. The phone itself became the silent witness to every horrifying act in that room.

Another clip showed Yu lying on the floor, barely conscious under a flickering light. Someone off-camera throws water at him, yelling for him to wake up. He struggles to speak, producing only a choking sound. The camera zooms closer, capturing the widening terror in his eyes.

An investigator who reviewed the footage quietly said, “He wasn’t acting. He was dying.”

The Confession and Unforgivable Truth

Fon Shichi’s testimony deepened the horror. “I thought he’d be fine after,” he said weakly. “They told me to stay quiet, that no one would ever find out. But he looked at me before it ended… and I knew. He knew who was behind it.”

Investigators showed Fon a deleted note titled “Post-Session”: Dispose of items. Clear all devices. 28 days max.

“He didn’t deserve that,” Fon whispered. “None of us did.”

“None of you?” the officer pressed, noting the fear in Fon’s voice, which seemed more focused on his own survival than remorse.

Cross-referenced surveillance confirmed the phone’s data—every timestamp, location, and message aligned perfectly with motel footage and CCTV logs. A recovered voice memo captured Fon saying, “Is it done recording?” followed by a woman’s chilling reply: “Keep going. He’s almost done.”

Fon later described the ordeal in panicked bursts: “They said it was for art. He signed something. I just followed orders. From him. You wouldn’t believe me if I said who.” Forensic teams found photos of syringes, cables, a camera lens, and a handwritten list of ten names—Yu’s marked in red: Complete.

“He was shaking,” Fon concluded. “He couldn’t stand. I told them he’d had enough. They laughed. ‘He’s just acting,’ they said. But it wasn’t acting. I knew it wasn’t. When he stopped moving, everything went quiet. The smell. The cold. It was real.”

As Fon was led out—pale, trembling, his once-famous face hollow—he muttered, “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

But the evidence spoke louder than his denial. The phone, once a tool of deception, became the instrument of truth, revealing every layer of cruelty and control that systematically extinguished Yu Menglong’s light. Those recovered files—silent, damning, and eternal—remain as undeniable witnesses to the night Yu Menglong died.