The Vault gave a perfunctory tug at the corner of her mouth, joining in the celebration: “Actually, I was just bluffing. At first, I didn’t say what kind of evidence it was—it could have been evidence about Yvonne Thornton’s death, maybe a witness, or maybe just the surveillance footage mentioned at the morning meeting. Only those with a guilty conscience would connect such vague descriptions and react abnormally. When I probed them and described more specific details, they didn’t show any obvious emotional changes, which means what they’re guarding against in their hearts is basically the same as what I was assuming.”

“Your insight and adaptability are also spot on.” Julian Grant asked, “I heard the world you see is special. In your eyes, what are those people like?”

The Vault directly ignored his last question and sighed wearily: “It’s just that there were a lot of people here today. Not everyone has such strong psychological resilience when facing questioning after committing a crime. The first time they’re tested, it’s easy for them to slip up. Besides, their schemes have always gone so smoothly that they’ve become overconfident. So today, when they faced a student they used to look down on and some ordinary little cops, their innate arrogance made them let down their guard. Subconsciously, they even felt that even if we found out, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Julian Grant sneered, “They’ll eventually be buried by their own arrogance.”

·

The viewers in the livestream had already gone wild.

The early stages of this scenario were extremely dull, with the evidence-gathering phase being monotonous to the point that the number of online viewers plummeted.

Just as the audience’s patience was about to run out, a series of turning points appeared, and the plot began to develop rapidly.

At this point, the forum section of SanTian was completely flooded with all kinds of analytical and technical posts, and those who came back after hearing the buzz could only shed tears in front of their screens.

“This is exactly like me buying at the bottom of the market and getting washed out. I can never catch the hot moment. [crying] I just left for a bit and now I can’t understand anything.”

“The BGM those two bring is about to deafen me! [so handsome it’s a crime]”

“Top student doing problems VS me doing problems. [humble] She’s got 32x fast-forward, and I’m still on 2G network. I’m going to report this.”

“I’m loving this—so this is the power of a 92-point score!”

“What made me so arrogant back then to think she was just so-so?”

“This girl is the type to quietly get big things done! Every step hits a point I never would have thought of.”

“Are we sure it’s a girl? Maybe the boss is actually much older? Just look at her aura—she’s not an ordinary person.”

“Thank you all for recognizing my wife. [shy] We’ll be happy forever.”

“But, how do they verify things next? There’s no direct evidence and no student willing to come forward. Even if you know what kind of people they are, you can’t just search at will. Catching a glimpse of the giant is only the beginning.”

“I’m lying flat, just waiting for the boss to carry me through. [swinging feet] The boss’s suicide progress is the fastest I’ve ever seen, but also the one I have the most confidence in!”

“Those who do too much evil will bring about their own destruction. Most bad people really die from their own arrogance and complacency.”

·

The two people on screen were walking down from the safe stairwell, descending step by step.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, making their conversation even clearer.

Julian Grant: “At the moment, there isn’t enough evidence to apply for a search of their belongings, and we still don’t know whether the evidence they left behind is a photo, a video, or something like a diary.”

He felt a chill, shook out his jacket, and put it on: “The next clue must be hidden in the information we already have.”

The Vault asked, “When you said the surveillance footage of Yvonne Thornton’s death was faked, what did you mean?”

When Julian Grant heard her bring this up, his expression turned serious. He didn’t keep her guessing and lowered his voice to explain: “First, the time was faked. The surveillance video provided by No. 1 High School had the time altered. In their video, there were only about seven minutes between Yvonne Thornton passing the surveillance point and jumping off the building. The police tested Yvonne Thornton’s walking speed in the footage several times and concluded that she went straight to the rooftop after returning to the dorm, with no time to contact other students. This finding became strong evidence for ruling her death a suicide.”

“Second… second, in their surveillance, Yvonne Thornton returned to the dorm alone. But in the convenience store’s footage, it showed that on that day, she went back to the dorm with someone else.”

The Vault suddenly had a bad feeling, her eyelid twitching, and asked, “Who?”

As expected, Julian Grant uttered those three familiar characters: “Quinn Sinclair.”

The Vault was filled with mixed emotions.

By now, the two of them had almost reached the entrance of the political education building.

They exited the empty stairwell, turned a corner, and in the suddenly open view, saw the girl who had just been mentioned in their conversation.

Quinn Sinclair was standing in the first-floor lobby, looking up at a black-and-white calligraphy on the wall. The plaque read, “Great sound is rarefied, great form is formless.” She heard the sound and turned her head.

There was a hint of sorrow in Quinn Sinclair’s tone: “You really called the police? Do you know what the consequences of that are?”

“I know.” The Vault asked calmly, “Did you kill her?”

Quinn Sinclair blurted out, loud and urgent: “It wasn’t me!”

The Vault looked at her, as if scrutinizing. After a long look, disappointment began to show in her eyes.

Quinn Sinclair said, hurt, “What kind of look is that?”

The Vault suddenly said, “So you know who did it.”

Quinn Sinclair was stunned.

The Vault lowered her gaze and said, “Because a normal person’s reaction should be, ‘Who?’ or ‘She didn’t really commit suicide?’ Unless, from the very beginning, you already accepted that she didn’t kill herself.”

The color drained from Quinn Sinclair’s face, and her body seemed to lose all strength, swaying slightly, making her look especially fragile.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I have to tell you, running away is never a solution. It might seem useful, but once things explode, the damage will be even greater. And…”

The Vault took a step closer, staring straight into her eyes with an intense pressure, “You don’t have the psychological resilience for this. You can’t bear that kind of responsibility. If you keep standing by and doing nothing, you’ll definitely regret it.”

Quinn Sinclair’s lips turned pale, her whole body tense, wanting to say something but unable to get the words out.

Julian Grant stood solemnly to the side.

He looked at the trembling Quinn Sinclair, then at the shivers coming from deep within her, and even felt a bit of sympathy for her. Just as he was about to speak, The Vault looked away first, leaving behind a simple “Take care of yourself,” and walked past her, out the main doors of the political education building.

Julian Grant handed her a phone number and said, “Contact me if you need anything. Please trust the police. Our goal is actually the same as yours.”

Quinn Sinclair took it absentmindedly, not knowing if she really heard him.

Julian Grant quickly ran after The Vault.

The Vault was walking fast, and after a short delay, she was already more than ten meters ahead, with no intention of waiting for him.

Julian Grant jogged to catch up and asked, “Do you think she did it?”

“I don’t know.” The Vault kicked a stone by the roadside. “She’s pretty suspicious, isn’t she?”

Julian Grant said, “I don’t think so. She doesn’t have the psychological strength. Unless she’s an Oscar-level actress.”

The Vault stared at him in silence.

After a while, Julian Grant couldn’t take it and surrendered: “…Trust me, your old jokes were even colder than this.”

The Vault: “Oh…” That stung. She felt this was basically an insult.

The Vault squinted against the direct sunlight.

Julian Grant glanced at the direction she was heading and realized she wasn’t going to the dorm or the classroom. He frowned and asked, “What are you planning to do next?”

The Vault: “Find evidence.”

Julian Grant: “Where are you going to look for evidence? Does Nathan Sanders really have evidence? Weren’t you just bluffing them?”

The Vault said, “I don’t know, but I think it’s very possible. Maybe Wendy Ward saw it too, which is why she was so out of it before Nathan Sanders’s suicide. Just follow the clues and keep looking. So far, we haven’t found any decisive evidence.”

The Vault took out her phone and tapped on the screen, saying, “If there really is evidence, Nathan Sanders wouldn’t have left it at school, because after her death, the school would probably search her things. It shouldn’t be at home either. Her mother clearly doesn’t know anything. If she left it at home, no one might ever find it, and the matter would never be resolved.”

Julian Grant murmured, “Then where could it be…”

The Vault said, “Somewhere we wouldn’t expect, but somewhere we’re sure to notice.”