The boss then said, “I just mentioned that very pretty girl, the one with long hair, a gentle voice, really beautiful. Every time she comes by, there are always boys secretly watching her, so she left a deep impression on me. I remember she gets along well with several people. You can go ask her—she definitely knows more than I do.”

　　Julian Grant: “With whom?”

　　“The one at the entrance, and the two who jumped off the building,” the boss said. “Before those two had their accidents, they were both pretty close to her. But I heard they were all in the same class, so I guess it’s normal for them to hang out together, right?”

　　Julian Grant’s brow twitched, a faint sense of having found a key clue arising in him. He asked seriously, “Does that girl have any distinguishing features?”

　　“She’s the campus belle,” the boss said. “Everyone knows it—just ask around and you’ll find out.”

　　“Alright…” Julian Grant said with a smile, “Thanks, man, that’s really helpful.”

　　Boss: “Glad I could help.”

　　·

　　Netizens in Trident’s livestream were feeling conflicted.

　　“The boss was pretty straightforward. Looks like Wendy Ward went too far pranking Nathan Sanders, which led to Nathan Sanders’s mental breakdown and suicide. She was the perpetrator of campus bullying, and in the end became a victim herself. Sigh.”

　　“If everyone’s guessed it, that means it’s definitely wrong. [doge]”

　　“The player’s goal is to escape a death ending. In this situation, isn’t the hardest part figuring out how to relieve Wendy Ward’s guilt? Should she kneel and apologize to the victim’s family?”

　　“…Please, I beg you all, don’t. The last player did that and it made me so uncomfortable. What kind of masochistic plot is this? Dog planner, get out here and face your punishment!”

　　“Do you think this boss, who knows the Dog Beating Staff Technique, would really kneel and apologize? I think if it came to that, she’d rather just jump off the building herself.”

　　“The evidence is too obvious right now, I can’t think of any other answer. But with my years of watching livestreams, I feel like it can’t be that simple.”

　　·

　　A quarter of an hour later, Julian Grant walked out of the shop and immediately saw The Vault sitting on the ground, staring blankly at the little flowers and grass in front of her, completely motionless. The clothesline behind her stood straight up, looking like an antenna searching for a signal.

　　Julian Grant waved his hand in front of her face: “Hey.” Which channel are you on?

　　The Vault blinked, still not moving, and asked, “How did it go?”

　　Julian Grant said, “I got the surveillance footage.”

　　The Vault finally reacted, tilting her head up in surprise: “There’s surveillance footage?”

　　From this angle, Julian Grant looked especially tall. He raised the hard drive in his hand and said, “Looks like the boss is a fan of mystery dramas and pretty meticulous—he kept all the surveillance from that week. Trident will upload this data, which means there might be key evidence in it.”

　　The Vault nodded, then fell back into the same numb state as before.

　　Julian Grant walked halfway around her, considered for a moment, then said, “By the way, Wendy Ward might not be a perfect victim. The one pretending to be a ghost—it might be her.”

　　The Vault calmly picked up the thread: “To be precise, she was the previous one pretending to be a ghost. More accurately, there’s still a difference between pranking and pretending to be a ghost.”

　　“Right. Her roommate might be… a ‘disciple surpassing the master’ kind of justice warrior?” Julian Grant said. “The shop owner once saw Wendy Ward and Nathan Sanders arguing, and there are rumors about her at school. The people around her are also ostracizing her because of Nathan Sanders’s death. The sequence of events is actually pretty clear.”

　　Julian Grant pulled at the corner of his mouth, showing a slightly sarcastic smile: “No matter how you look at it, it’s a mess.”

　　The Vault didn’t respond.

　　Julian Grant stared at her for a while, unable to read her emotions, and simply sat down beside her, spacing out together.

　　No one knew how much time passed before the school bell rang, and the same melody played from speakers all around.

　　The teaching area was far from them, so this area remained quiet.

　　Julian Grant couldn’t help but ask, “So, what are you thinking about?”

　　“I’m thinking that, so far, all kinds of evidence seem to be pointing toward campus bullying as the cause,” The Vault shifted slightly toward him and said, “Whether it’s Nathan Sanders’s suicide or Wendy Ward’s apparent karmic redemption, at the core, it’s all because of campus bullying. Even if no one expected the worst possible outcome.”

　　“Evidence can guide people?” Julian Grant frowned. “Evidence is just evidence—unless it’s fake.”

　　The Vault slowly shook her head: “That’s not quite right. This is a fully immersive simulation game. Participants get their clues from the NPCs. Everyone who’s played the game instinctively believes that NPCs are there to guide the plot, and they don’t lie. But actually, NPCs play the roles of people, and people can lie, make mistakes, or be misled.”

　　Julian Grant thought her idea was bold, even a bit out there: “All the NPCs making mistakes together?”

　　The Vault: “Yes. I’ve gone over the case. So far, we have two ways of getting evidence: witness testimony and physical evidence. Looking at the physical evidence, there’s nothing that clearly indicates this is a campus bullying case. All the speculation about bullying comes from the reactions of those around. This happens because, in the general atmosphere, most people really believe that Wendy Ward directly or indirectly caused Nathan Sanders’s death—or at least that she’s mainly responsible. Then they pass that idea on to us. Right?”

　　Julian Grant nodded gravely: “Right.”

　　The Vault followed up: “Why?”

　　Julian Grant was confused: “Why what?”

　　“Suppose all these guesses are correct,” The Vault said. “Looking at Nathan Sanders’s relationships, she wasn’t a loner. Would someone with normal social interactions really choose suicide over a classmate’s prank? She shouldn’t be a student who just passively accepts everything without resistance.”

　　Julian Grant said, “Because her good friend jumped to her death, which gave her a huge psychological shock. I mean, maybe she already had some mental health issues. Wendy Ward’s prank was just a trigger.”

　　“Exactly!” The Vault said. “Judging by the other students’ reactions, they have a sense of justice and not much guilt, which means they genuinely believe their actions were right. If Wendy Ward’s prank was too much, her roommate and classmates should have stopped her early on. But if it wasn’t excessive and was just a trigger, then why does everyone put the main blame on Wendy Ward? Shouldn’t the main cause be the psychological impact of the first victim’s suicide? Or are ordinary high schoolers really that extreme?”

　　Julian Grant, hearing this, finally grasped the strange, indescribable feeling that had been nagging at him. A line of thought in his mind suddenly cleared.

　　He looked at The Vault with bright, focused eyes.

　　“Why does Wendy Ward herself feel such intense guilt? Just because of a malicious prank? But according to earlier deductions, she was already showing strong anxiety before Nathan Sanders’s suicide. That doesn’t seem to add up. The logic chain on the surface looks smooth, but it’s more like it’s exploiting some kind of student anxiety. I’m not convinced.”

　　The Vault shifted position, propping her chin on one hand, clicking her tongue: “I really can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s because I never properly attended high school?”

　　Julian Grant murmured, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. As long as Nathan Sanders’s death is attributed to campus bullying, and then Wendy Ward commits suicide, it seems like everything is resolved. It’s the simplest, most believable, and most sensational explanation. Just hearing the term ‘campus bullying’ is enough to attract attention.”

　　If you really analyze it from a conspiracy theory angle, the malice hidden behind this is chilling.

　　The truth is, it didn’t end with Wendy Ward’s suicide. In a way no one noticed, it ended up burying the lives of five people.

　　The Vault’s tone remained calm. She made the clearest judgment in the most composed manner: “And up to now, this is clearly a story about three people, but one of them has been completely absent. There’s no information or evidence about her at all.”

　　Julian Grant narrowed his eyes: “The first victim, Yvonne Thornton.”

　　The Vault: “There must be a key person missing here, someone who connects everyone together.”

　　Julian Grant swallowed: “There is. There is one.”

　　He looked at The Vault, letting out a barely audible sigh of relief: “The prettiest girl in your class. The shop owner said she was close with all three of them. Before Yvonne Thornton and Nathan Sanders committed suicide, they were seen walking with her.”

　　A graceful figure immediately appeared in The Vault’s mind. She was leaning by a bright window, bathed in sunlight, with a beauty that could catch anyone’s eye at a glance.

　　The system’s introduction of her was very simple.

　　“Quinn Sinclair.” The Vault’s fingers tightened at her sides as she straightened up. “She’s also a student from a poor family.”