The amount of information accessible to a student and to a company boss is naturally worlds apart. Their spheres of activity and the people and matters they come into contact with are completely different.

The Vault was the first to open Michael Wood’s computer, checking the recently added files and briefly sorting through them by their names to determine their importance.

Soon, The Vault came across a new version of a contract. Michael Wood probably wanted to revise it this year, but the specific details were still being finalized.

The Vault carefully studied the clauses inside and could see that Michael Wood treated veterans and newcomers quite differently, with clear distinctions in rights and contract termination restrictions, giving the old employees enough freedom and respect.

It’s well known that contracts in the entertainment industry are notoriously unreasonable, especially for those highly dependent on platforms, such as streamers and rookie artists. On the surface, everything is glamorous, but behind the scenes, the contracts are completely unequal. As a result, some unions or teams have emerged.

As the industry matures and resources become more entrenched, the chances of making it on your own are dwindling. Newcomers not only have to rely on platforms but also on teams. Even when faced with exploitative contracts, they have no choice.

Compared to other companies in the same industry, Michael Wood’s contract could be considered quite “conscientious”—perhaps that’s why he was able to quickly seize the market and expand.

Not only that, The Vault also discovered that Michael Wood had a secondary account.

This reserved man actually lurked in the company’s group chat under a pseudonym, secretly gathering employees’ opinions about himself. He would then record the names of those who spoke ill of him in his memo and later find opportunities to scold them in private. He couldn’t take criticism.

However, judging from the group’s attitude, he was still a fairly competent boss.

The Vault stretched out her arms and yawned.

From all the information found so far, Michael Wood wasn’t really a bad person—more like an ordinary, somewhat vulgar man. He had plenty of bad habits, a bit of cleverness, was pragmatic, could endure, and knew how to weigh pros and cons.

Such a person, when not affected by personal interests, wouldn’t openly offend anyone. His personality leaned more toward being tough only in his own territory.

To be honest, aside from Julia Campbell, The Vault really couldn’t find a second person who would hate him to death.

The Vault had no interest in the rest of the financial reports or creative proposals on the computer. She got up and walked to the glass window, taking in the entire layout of the room at a glance.

Michael Wood’s office had a strong sense of daily life. Some of the small decorations reflected a somewhat feminine aesthetic—like the potted plants and the display on the desk. They were probably influenced by someone. And just now, while sitting at the desk, The Vault had caught a faint scent of women’s perfume.

Julia Campbell didn’t wear perfume, nor was there anything like that in their bedroom.

The Vault turned and pulled down the blinds, looking at the men and women working outside.

As an MCN company made up of countless young people, there was no shortage of handsome men and beautiful women among Michael Wood’s signed employees.

He didn’t like Julia Campbell, but he was still a young man with physical needs. Logically, it would make sense if he had other lovers. If he really was cheating, it would be more convenient and safer to choose from among these people.

The Vault scanned the people walking by with a blank expression, wondering if any of them might be someone Michael Wood fancied.

But since she entered the office, no one had come in to disturb her. On her way in, no woman had shown her any obvious ambiguous expression.

Most importantly, The Vault hadn’t found any clues related to a lover in Michael Wood’s communication records.

Without concrete evidence, everything was just speculation.

The Vault rubbed the stubble on her chin, feeling the unfamiliar roughness under her fingertips, and a moment of self-doubt flashed through her mind.

Maybe she really was being petty and had wronged Michael Wood. After all, there’s no rule that says men can’t wear women’s perfume, or that employees can’t sit in the boss’s chair.

Just then, the assistant walked in carrying a blue gift bag, smiling as she said, “Boss, here’s the gift you asked me to order last time. I’ve already wrapped it for you.”

The Vault took it, opened it, and glanced at the contents.

It was just a palm-sized box, beautifully wrapped, not too heavy or too light, and its size made it hard to guess what was inside.

A light blue card was tied to the box with a satin ribbon, with a line of strong, elegant handwriting in pen:

“Bathed in the dazzling light of the pole star, you walk through the night toward me.”

The Vault’s eyelids twitched.

Given the relationship between the two spouses, it didn’t seem like they’d be into something so romantic.

This line was from a well-known love poem. While The Vault was still thinking that Michael Wood seemed quite artistic, the assistant said, “Boss, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head out.”

“Wait.” The Vault pulled the card out from the gap and asked casually, “What gift did we end up choosing? I kind of forgot.”

The assistant smiled, “That purple crystal necklace. Didn’t you say the boss’s wife likes purple?”

The Vault also smiled, “Oh, right. When I bought a gift last time, she emphasized it to me, said I have a bad memory… Eh, how long ago was that?”

“About half a month,” the assistant replied. “On your wedding anniversary, you gave the boss’s wife a bracelet.”

The Vault smiled helplessly, “Yeah, she always complains that I forget anniversaries and miss giving her gifts.”

The assistant looked envious and said, “Boss, you’re already doing great! You pick out gifts for the boss’s wife every month yourself. Unlike me—my boyfriend can’t even remember my birthday. You two have such a good relationship.”

“Yeah,” The Vault said with a laugh, “she just likes to act spoiled, that’s all.”

After chatting a bit more, The Vault realized the assistant really didn’t know who the gift was for, so she waved her hand, “That’s all, you can go now.”

The assistant bowed slightly, “Okay.”

Once the assistant left, The Vault unwrapped the gift, took a photo of the purple crystal, and sent it to Julian Grant.

The Vault: A gift Michael Wood gave to his lover. The assistant said he prepares a similar gift every month.

The Vault: There shouldn’t be any purple crystal jewelry at home, right? Julia Campbell doesn’t seem like someone who likes to dress up.

Julian Grant replied quickly and concisely.

Julian Grant: None.

The Vault typed quickly with one hand.

The Vault: This shows Michael Wood really cares about appearances. Out there, he still keeps up the image of a loving husband.

The Vault: He’s very afraid of people finding out about this relationship, so he handles the details very cleanly. But he’s also addicted to the influence the other person has on him, enjoying the changes she brings to him in places where no one knows. This relationship makes him feel conflicted and excited. What do you think?

The Vault hoped Julian Grant could help her improve Michael Wood’s psychological profile—after all, men should understand men better. Unexpectedly, Julian Grant quickly sent back two short replies.

Julian Grant: Tsk.

Julian Grant: Scumbag.

The Vault pondered this, feeling it was a bit subtle, but couldn’t quite put it into words.

·

“When he blurted out ‘scumbag,’ I knew he was getting into character.”

“Damn, hahaha!”

“Watching Q-ge get more and more off track.”

“I’ve got three streams open, my computer can barely handle it, and my eyes are about to give out. So I’ve decided to stay here for the jokes.”

“Even the big shots can’t find the mistress—impressive. If Michael Wood wanted to, he’d be the strongest contender for king of the sea.”

·

The Vault conducted a second search in the office, trying to find information about Michael Wood’s lover. Not long after, she received a system notification telling her it was now the end of the workday.

Today’s in-game date was February 25th, the day Michael Wood first started suspecting someone was following him. The identity of the stalker was still uncertain—this part was a fixed plot point.

The Vault quickly packed up her things, preparing to walk home.

Chapter 25: Navigation

At the end of February, the sun still hadn’t fully risen.

When The Vault left the company, the sky outside was already a hazy gray. The dim streetlights glowed, pulling two faint shadows from people alongside the afterglow of sunset.

She walked along the pedestrian path inside the greenbelt, watching the hurried figures around her, feeling an increasing sense of unease, and unconsciously slowed her pace.

The design of Trident was still very thorough, with many clues hidden in the details.

When she left just now, the employees in the company didn’t seem surprised, and quite a few even followed her out after work. This showed that Michael Wood wasn’t the type to stay late at the office for no reason.

However, judging from the clues found in the villa, Michael Wood wasn’t a good partner who went home on time after work either. There were too few traces of his life in the villa, and even the study computer had little usage history, suggesting he only went home for short rests and didn’t stay long-term. He was making an effort to avoid meeting Julia Campbell.