The influence of the environment is extremely powerful. Under constant subtle hints from various sources, several roommates exaggerated what Wendy Ward had done and firmly believed it. At the same time, they had no idea how serious Nathan Sanders's depression was, subconsciously assuming that Wendy Ward's seemingly harmless pranks would have a huge impact on Nathan Sanders.

"Look, she's feeling guilty herself, which means she did it." "See, the leaders and teachers think so too." "Wendy Ward dares to play pranks in front of everyone, so she must have done even worse things behind our backs." "Nathan Sanders had depression and was mentally fragile. She was so pitiful and couldn't handle the stress. Actually, it was Wendy Ward who killed her."...

And so on.

The Vault used her phone to open the official website of No.1 High School, then clicked on "more" under the activities section.

The Vault: First, publicize the incident and give a public criticism to the students without naming names. Although no names are mentioned, everyone in the school will know who the school is talking about.

The Vault: Add ideological education related to the incident, and repeatedly mention it as a negative example on campus.

The Vault: When students retaliate against Wendy Ward, handle it with bias, making students subconsciously believe that the school is tacitly approving their actions as just.

The Vault: Commemorate the deceased, hold moments of silence for her, make people remember her, and constantly reinforce a positive image of the deceased.

The Vault took screenshots and sent them over.

The Vault: [Image·Activity] Yvonne Thornton died in February this year. The school suppressed the related information and handled it quietly. There were only a few activity announcements during that period.

The Vault: But when Nathan Sanders died, according to the activity records on the official website, they organized two memorial events. They even invited psychological experts from the hospital to give lectures at the school. In response to the education bureau's call to pay attention to high school students' mental health, they held a major parent seminar at the school.

The Vault: You can also look up the number of related news reports as reference evidence.

Julian Grant followed her instructions and conducted a precise search.

There were still recent paper newspapers at the bureau, but he felt there was no need to check them.

Julian Grant's fingertips on the mouse turned a little pale. After reading the search results that popped up on the webpage, he weakly sent a reply.

Julian Grant: You're right.

The Vault: Mm.

The Vault: Sometimes, it's actually quite easy to drive someone to death.

·

"…Damn! Things are suddenly taking a disgusting turn."

"So infuriating!"

"Let me make a blind guess. For someone as beautiful as Quinn Sinclair, if she really wanted to, there'd be no need to sell herself for just a thousand or two a month. Plus, her grades are good, she can rely on herself, and she didn't get the final guaranteed admission, so she's relatively independent. But her good friend might not be so innocent, and because of that, she's restricted. She's very nice to Wendy Ward because she knows Wendy Ward is just a scapegoat. So, she's the key NPC in this scenario, the only breakthrough point."

"Even with the help of a god's perspective, with five people dying in a row, the school must bear undeniable responsibility. I just didn't expect the responsibility to be this great."

"Truly... everything evil people do will leave a trace."

·

Julian Grant composed himself and sent another message to The Vault.

Julian Grant: At present, the real breakthrough point is Quinn Sinclair and Melanie Spencer. Melanie Spencer has clear interests involved, so she might not tell us. Quinn Sinclair's position is more questionable—how did she get such a large poverty subsidy?

The Vault: Her poverty subsidy was collected for her by Melanie Spencer, possibly a benefit that Melanie Spencer secured for her. Maybe it's to keep her quiet, or maybe it's just because they're close. Not sure. Quinn Sinclair isn't very assertive, so I suspect it's a bit of both.

The Vault: Also, Quinn Sinclair hasn't really used the money. Her daily life is extremely simple. I don't see any unrelated personal items on her desk.

The Vault: I used to think she was saving up, but maybe she just doesn't want to spend it. I don't know where she used the money. Can you track her financial transactions?

Julian Grant: So you have a positive view of Quinn Sinclair?

The Vault: Not sure. I try to stay neutral.

Julian Grant was a bit confused.

What does "try to stay neutral" mean?

Can't you be positive?

...Oh, I get it. Because you have to keep doubting the world to stay cautious enough.

Julian Grant got up to make another cup of coffee, then sat in front of the screen and started watching the surveillance footage he got from the convenience store today.

An hour later, when he picked up his phone again, he found that The Vault had sent him another inexplicable message.

The Vault: Orange hard candy is pretty tasty.

"Orange hard candy?" Julian Grant thought for a moment and muttered, "How can orange-flavored candy be better than pineapple-flavored?"

Chapter 9: Night Raid

After sorting through the information she knew, The Vault sat in a daze for a while before finally leaving Quinn Sinclair's room.

Night quickly deepened, and the school's evening self-study officially ended. The students returned to their dorms as soon as the bell rang.

The Vault's roommates also appeared one after another.

Because of what happened yesterday, the atmosphere in the dorm was extremely awkward.

The girls, who had been chatting and laughing, fell silent the moment they opened the door and saw The Vault. Then, tiptoeing, they hurried to their own beds.

The Vault had no intention of getting along with them either. Still wearing her daytime clothes, she sat at her desk with her arms crossed, looking inscrutable.

Soon, as the lights went out, the dormitory was plunged into darkness.

The Vault's eyelids drooped halfway as she stared blankly at the ever-ticking time on her phone. After the footsteps of the teacher on duty faded away, a beam of light, just like the night before, shone in through the window.

The Vault moved, preparing to get up. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor, making an extremely harsh sound. The girl in the opposite bed lost her composure first and shouted, "It wasn't me! I have nothing to do with this!"

The Vault wasn't startled by the person outside the window, but was instead shocked by the girl's outburst. She went to the door, grabbed the newly bought clothes-drying rod, turned on a high-powered flashlight, stuffed it in her pocket, and headed for the balcony.

Her dorm was on the first floor. There was a small step below. Climbing over the little balcony, she could jump straight onto the grass behind.

The Vault adjusted the flashlight and followed the light source. On the other side of the beam, she clearly caught sight of a shadowy figure, who was fiddling with a lighting device not far away.

When The Vault suddenly appeared, the shadow's movements paused noticeably, as if not expecting her to show up. After a moment of shock, he immediately turned and tried to run.

At this point, the distance between them was less than two meters. The Vault reacted faster, lunging forward and jabbing the rod at the person's back.

The patch of grass was uneven. Since it was behind the main road and didn't affect the school's appearance, few people came here, and the school hadn't bothered to maintain it. There were plenty of rocks hidden among the overgrown weeds.

The shadow was clearly unfamiliar with the area. In his panic, he stumbled, and then The Vault struck his back, nearly making him fall. In that brief moment, The Vault caught up and hit his leg with the rod.

"Shit!"

From those two words, The Vault recognized the familiar voice.

"Hugo Spencer!"

She knew it! She didn't understand high school romance. But that wasn't her fault, because it wasn't romance at all!

Seeing he couldn't escape, Hugo Spencer simply turned around, pulled off his hat, and faced her openly.

He took the initiative and asked, "What do you want?"

The Vault was amused. "You're asking me that? Shouldn't you also ask yourself if you have any shame?"

Hugo Spencer: "Don't you know what I want?"

"When you talk, use fewer rhetorical questions and more statements," The Vault said calmly. "I don't know."

She took out her flashlight, avoided shining it in Hugo Spencer's eyes, and waved it in the air. "Be honest. Tell me yourself."

Hugo Spencer's eyes turned red. "Don't pretend you don't know how Samuel North died!"

The Vault: "She jumped."

"You drove her to it! If you hadn't deliberately isolated and intimidated her, she wouldn't have had a depressive episode and jumped to her death. The school paid compensation, apologized, and comforted the family. But I'm telling you, it's not that simple. Do you think just writing a couple of self-reflections is enough? Everyone knows about this—you'll never have a good life!" Hugo Spencer sneered. "What, can't take it? I'm just letting you experience what she felt when she was alive. That's your responsibility!"

The Vault thought it over and said with a laugh, "I never did what you did. Don't pin your own escalating mistakes on me."

Hugo Spencer: "I heard it all! Before Samuel North died, she called her mom and said she couldn't stand living in fear anymore. You scared her openly and secretly—who knows what else you did behind her back?"

Countless curious heads peeked out from the balconies, hiding in the darkness of the night, eavesdropping and watching from afar.