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The sky sneered, “You fool.”

Hugo Spencer gritted his teeth, trembling with agitation at her accusation, and said, “I’m a fool? So what if I am? Let me tell you, a murderer is a murderer—no matter how you try to cover it up, it won’t change anything! You are the murderer!”

“You call me a murderer a couple of times, and that makes you feel better?” The Vault’s tone sounded almost flippant in the darkness. “Is your sense of justice really that cheap, that easily satisfied?”

Hugo Spencer was shocked, incredulous: “Don’t you feel even a shred of guilt?”

“Why should I feel guilty towards you?” The Vault asked. “Did I ever do anything to wrong you? Or did Nathan Sanders ask you to take revenge on me?”

Hugo Spencer let out a hoarse roar, lunging forward to grab her collar fiercely.

As The Vault tried to pry his hands off, her flashlight fell to the ground and rolled aside.

Their faces blurred together in the darkness, but their anger was crystal clear. Around them, a circle of onlookers gasped in anticipation. Some even egged Hugo Spencer on to make a move.

All these restless emotions were pushing the young man’s nerves to the brink.

The Vault’s calm, even voice seemed almost out of place in this frenzy. She said, “Utterly absurd.”

Hugo Spencer shouted, “How am I wrong!”

“Everyone thinks they’re not wrong, and so no one does the right thing. Isn’t that so?” The Vault curled her lips, the muscles in her face twitching stiffly—she was genuinely amused by anger. “Fine, let’s tally it up. If what I’ve done is already unforgivable, then what about you, and all of you, doing things even worse than me—how should you pay for that? Huh? With your so-called, utterly baseless sense of justice?”

Hugo Spencer: “Even if you think I have no grounds, you can’t deny the dirty things you’ve done!”

The Vault pried his hands off, inch by inch: “You think you’re justified, so you can’t be wrong?”

She grabbed Hugo Spencer’s wrist and shoved it forward: “Go ask in prison—how many people were born murderers, born violent? Let them tell you how life drove them to the edge, how they became what society calls criminals. Every one of them can tell you a past deeper and more reasonable than yours. People like you aren’t even good at pretending to be righteous! But so what? Did the law let them off? Were their crimes forgiven? Can their responsibilities just be wiped away? Do you think those people are right? Is the stability of society and the question of right and wrong measured by your personal moral yardstick? Is that all years of compulsory education taught you?”

Hugo Spencer struggled to break free, shouting, “Don’t push me!”

The Vault slapped him hard across the face.

Hugo Spencer stared at her, wide-eyed, lost and horrified. After a long moment, he slowly raised his hand to cover his face.

The world fell silent.

Hugo Spencer: “You…”

“Yes, it’s me,” The Vault said. “If I were you, I’d be decisive. Find the evidence, throw it in someone’s face, and if you want to hit or curse, do it thoroughly. Don’t rely on so-called guesses and reasoning, wanting both morality and revenge, while secretly doing shady things, all the while holding up a banner of righteous justice. You’re impressive! Impressive enough to only bully honest people. If you ever met someone who really wouldn’t let you off, would it just be a slap? If Wendy Ward were ruthless, she would’ve called the police and had you arrested on the first day, you fool!”

Their commotion alarmed the dorm supervisor, and the on-duty teacher finally arrived after being notified.

“What are you people doing over there!”

Two weak beams of light swept over. The Vault squinted, letting go of her hand.

“Don’t move!” The two on-duty teachers, out of breath from running and afraid the two would run off, shouted, “State your names! Your class! Who’s your teacher! Nobody move!”

The Vault twisted her neck, feeling a bit of dampness on her hand and a burning pain on her skin.

During the earlier struggle, Hugo Spencer’s hand had been scratched by The Vault, leaving several marks, and her own neck bore traces as well. She could imagine how disheveled she looked, but it was probably still better than the bedraggled Hugo Spencer.

In the ensuing chaos, Hugo Spencer was dragged away, his face full of resentment, his sharp gaze still fixed on her. The on-duty teacher urged The Vault from behind, “You come with me too! What, you think you can do whatever you want? All of you! Everyone go to bed! There’ll be a dorm check later—any class with noise will get double points deducted!”

A chorus of disappointed sighs echoed in the hallway. The Vault saw the suicide progress indicator for the character steadily rising.

·

When it came to interactions between NPCs, The Vault basically had no room to intervene.

The following scenes played out like a scripted movie, quickly set in motion.

The homeroom teacher and school administrators, who had already gone to bed, were roused and rushed to the school. A group of middle-aged people discussed how to deal with the students in the duty room. The two students involved in the incident sat in the next room, on cold, hard wooden chairs, under the teachers’ watchful eyes, waiting for the school’s decision.

The Vault leaned her head back, inhaling the faint mustiness in the air, staring blankly at the cobwebs in the corner.

When the clock on the wall struck 2 a.m., a group of people gathered before them, coldly and decisively announcing, “Tomorrow morning, you’ll give a self-criticism speech under the national flag. Also, call your parents—I want to have a good talk with them.”

The Vault sat up straight and turned her gaze over.

Given that two students had already committed suicide by jumping, the overall student mood was agitated, and this incident was closely related to the previous two, the school’s usual approach would be to calm the students, downplay the incident, and suppress any further impact to prevent copycat behavior.

But instead, they had Hugo Spencer and Wendy Ward go on stage to make self-criticisms.

She didn’t see any desire from the school to smooth things over. On the contrary, they seemed determined to stamp out the issue of campus bullying once and for all.

With the parties involved so emotionally unstable, how could a proper self-criticism be expected? It was more likely someone would take the opportunity to stir up trouble.

This was probably the main plot event pushing Wendy Ward toward suicide.

Following their instructions, The Vault called the person labeled “Mom” in her contacts, then handed the phone to the teachers for them to communicate.

·

At dawn, by the flagpole’s platform.

Thousands of students stood on the track, their eyes fixed on Hugo Spencer as he gave his self-criticism on stage.

Hugo Spencer held the microphone, cleared his throat, and addressed the crowd: “My name is Hugo Spencer, and Nathan Sanders was my girlfriend.”

The Vault curled her lips into a smile.

There was a stir among the school staff. The on-duty teacher took a couple of steps forward, hesitated, then stepped back.

“Not long ago, she jumped to her death.”

“Before she jumped, she called her mother. She said, ‘I’m so tired. I’m done living in fear. I never thought school would become like this. I’m not a brave person, and I’ve let down Yvonne Thornton’s trust in me. I don’t think I can go on any longer. I hope you’ll avenge me.’ That’s what she said. But after she died, those who should have taken responsibility are still at large. And today, I stand here to apologize to her.”

In an instant, countless eyes turned toward The Vault.

“I’m sorry,” Hugo Spencer said perfunctorily, then stepped down from the stage.

The Vault took the microphone from his hand and slowly walked up to the platform.

Chapter 10: Stunned

As The Vault walked up, a wave of boos erupted from below.

At first, there were only a few, but soon more and more people joined in, until it became a chorus.

Several teachers tried to intervene, pulling aside the first few troublemakers, but there were too many people, and they couldn’t stop the tide of “public opinion.”

When The Vault stood at the center of the platform, the boos turned into laughter.

All kinds of inexplicable laughter spread through the air—probably even they didn’t know what they were laughing at.

Standing high above, The Vault looked from one end of the crowd to the other.

Her pupils, illuminated by the light, looked pale, making her face appear even more ashen.

So this is what it feels like—when countless malicious eyes are fixed on you, there’s a bone-chilling shiver.

When all those mocking voices surge together, there’s a terror that makes your hair stand on end.

The absurd scene was like a giant net cast before her.

The Vault watched quietly, and in the end, she actually laughed.

Her sudden laughter unsettled the teachers and students, and the clamor gradually died down.

The viewers in the livestream were the same.

“I’m not afraid of her getting angry, but I’m really scared when she laughs…”

“R.I.P. Wishing them a safe journey in advance.”

“This camera angle is so intense, it’s really uncomfortable to watch.”

“If it were me, I’d want to smash their heads in. These people make me too angry to think!”

“Welcome to the long-running drama: The World of Fools.”