"The doctor looked at the scans and thought there was a bit of a problem, so he went to find a few colleagues to study them together, and then decided to have you do another test." The Vault said regretfully, "I pulled him aside and asked for a long time, but he still didn't tell me why. Do you know if Julia Campbell has any serious medical history?"

Julian Grant replied dryly, "I don't know. Haven't noticed anything."

"It's fine. I'll stay and chat with you, so you won't get bored." The Vault sat down by the bed, speaking with utmost patience, "I think this scenario shouldn't be too hard, and there aren't many characters. Either there are still key plot points coming up, or the culprit is among these few people. Let's discuss it slowly, no need to rush."

Comforted by her, that uneasy feeling in Julian Grant's heart surfaced again.

Any man being treated like this would find it hard to stay normal. Even if a straight guy is a bit slow to react, it doesn't mean he doesn't understand anything.

He really wanted to see through what The Vault was thinking, but not to mention they're in a game now—even in real life, it would be hard to see through this woman. At the start, she was clearly acting crazy, and then suddenly switched to a warm, caring persona—who could have guessed that?

Since The Vault was already acting so open-minded, he couldn't keep losing his temper. Julian Grant walked around the room and asked, "By the way, where's my phone? I couldn't find it just now."

The Vault said, "I remember taking it."

The Vault stuck both hands into her pockets, lowered her head curiously, and pulled out two phones from her coat.

"Hmm?"

Julian Grant immediately said, "The one with the phone case is mine."

The Vault handed the phone over accordingly.

Julian Grant lit up the screen and saw several unread messages on the home page, indicating that The Vault probably hadn't opened his interface. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief and looked up, saying, "It's that private detective from yesterday—he sent me more messages."

The Vault sneered, "Still up to no good, pretty bold. What did he say?"

Julian Grant scrolled down to read all the messages and explained, "He sent me a set of photos."

He held the phone, walked over to The Vault, bent down so their shoulders were side by side, and showed her the screen.

The Vault caught a faint medicinal scent from him and shifted her gaze to the photos.

Judging by the angles, these photos were clearly taken from a distance. That detective must have rented a room on the same floor in the building opposite Michael Wood, using it for surveillance.

The photos were a set: the first three showed Michael Wood entering the residential complex, walking into the lobby of his residence, and standing by the window in men's clothing. The last one was a silhouette of a woman.

The first three photos were all clear, but in the last one, the figure was obscured by curtains, and only the back was visible. It clearly conveyed two things: they were in the same place, and it was a woman.

With preconceived notions, it's hard for anyone looking at these photos not to believe there's something improper between these two people.

Moreover, the detective also gave a conclusion at the end of the images, saying that Michael Wood was indeed keeping a woman outside, and if Julia Campbell paid the remaining fee quickly, he would provide the original photos.

The Vault looked at the last line of text and couldn't help but laugh.

Julian Grant put away his phone and asked, "Is this woman Michael Wood is cheating with suspicious?"

"She shouldn't be suspicious." The Vault immediately put on a serious face, "She left recently and didn't have time to commit the crime."

Julian Grant didn't doubt it and just replied, "Oh."

Not long after, The Vault's phone rang as well—the detective from yesterday was contacting her.

"I've already sent the photos to your wife. You know that, right?"

"Think about what happened yesterday, don't regret it."

"If this gets exposed, it's bad for everyone. Divorce, scandal—can your company keep running? Even internet celebrities need a good reputation, right?"

The Vault also handed her phone to Julian Grant to see, saying openly, "Look. This guy is really greedy, wants to eat from both sides, dreaming big."

Julian Grant followed up, "Looks like he really pissed off Julia Campbell. Julia Campbell was pushed into the hospital by Lucy Sanders, then an unknown illness was discovered, and now she receives evidence of her husband's affair—all these major blows in a row, it's very likely her emotions would spiral out of control."

The Vault agreed, took a screenshot of the conversation, and skillfully called the police to report the detective for blackmail.

Better to keep an eye on whoever you can. Now that Lucy Sanders and the private detective were both under police control, the only one left with both motive and opportunity was Julia Campbell.

Thinking of this, The Vault paused while reporting to the dispatcher, and looked gently at Julian Grant.

Julian Grant shivered from her gaze and whispered, "You..."

The Vault made a shushing gesture, and Julian Grant swallowed his words.

He waited until The Vault finished the call, then couldn't help but remind her, "Don't you think Julia Campbell is the murderer? It's very likely she took the photos to confront Michael Wood, and in the argument accidentally killed him. You can't have missed that, right?"

The Vault said slowly, "Given the difference in size between men and women, it's hard to call that an accident."

"The key isn't whether it was intentional or not, but that when facing a major suspect, as the victim's role, you should stay alert. What are you doing now? Why are you being so honest with me? We might not even be teammates this round, maybe even enemies—there's no such thing as an easy win. Do you even know the rules of the Trident scenario?" Julian Grant asked a string of questions in a rush, half exasperated, but his expression was serious. "You can't reform the murderer, Trident doesn't have that setting. If someone wants to kill you, they'll still kill you. If your character goes off script, that's just OOC."

Although Julian Grant was a supervisor, his main task was to observe how new players handled the investigation and their mental state in the game, to prevent overly realistic scenarios from causing psychological harm to players or viewers. But that didn't mean players could rely on him. If he was assigned a character script, he had to play his role accordingly.

For example, in the first round, his role was [Investigator], so he could help The Vault gather clues.

But this round, he suspected his role was likely [Murderer], so he could only stand on the opposite side of The Vault. Only after the [Murder Night] scenario started and the system issued the full script would he know if he was really the murderer.

The Vault put away her phone, her eyes clear but with an unreadable depth. She smiled and said, "It's okay, I know." But I won't change.

Julian Grant was left speechless by her, and shook his head helplessly, "Forget it. I can't figure you out."

·

The viewers in the livestream were all excitedly gossiping.

"Tired of talking: She has. She's doing it. She's doing it fast."

"Q-ge: You need to stay alert with me! Pro: Or what?"

"This just shows that the most important thing is self-awareness."

"Ugh! Scumbag!"

"I know, Q-ge must be experiencing one of life's three great illusions right now..."

"Players in the other scenario have already fallen out, but these two are still flirting. [Heavy fog]"

"Is it just me, or does it feel like this time the crime scene can't be reconstructed, and they're going straight to the investigation phase?"

·

Julian Grant had nothing to say to The Vault, so he simply lay down on the bed, crossed his legs, and started playing on his phone.

Surprisingly, someone with The Vault's personality actually started chatting with him after he went silent.

She asked, "Do you know a lot about Trident? How long have you worked at Trident?"

Julian Grant was stunned for a moment before replying, "Quite a while."

The Vault asked again, "Is the pay at Trident good?"

"It's... it's okay," Julian Grant said. "The benefits are pretty good, you won't get fired for talking back to the boss, and you get double pay for overtime. But we usually don't work overtime. If the workload increases, they just hire more people."

The Vault: "No wonder you have the scent of money on you."

Julian Grant: "??" My wallet feels cold.

"Nothing," The Vault adjusted her tone and asked again, "Do you have any hobbies?"

Julian Grant hesitated before saying, "Reading, gaming, field research? Why are you asking?"

The Vault commented, "Pretty ordinary."

"What else would you expect?" Julian Grant sat cross-legged, laughing, "Soaring on the edge of danger, feeling the thrill of walking the line between life and death?"

The Vault shrugged, "But you can't deny that a lot of rich kids, because of their wealth, have a higher entertainment threshold and need different ways to satisfy their spiritual needs."

"I'm not one of them." Julian Grant denied it outright, "I'm not a rich kid." He was probably a rich N-th generation.

By now, it was already dark outside. A nurse came in to take Julian Grant's temperature, adjusted the room temperature, and left, closing the door behind her.