A short distance away, a small group of people had gathered together, clearly acquaintances with shared interests. They were excitedly discussing related topics. At first, they kept their voices down, but as the conversation grew more animated, they unconsciously raised their volume.

“When I left the instance just now, I noticed that a certain livestream next door was really popular. It was a female player, apparently a newcomer. No company or team behind her, yet she shot up the tipping leaderboard. Haven’t seen a player like that in ages.”

“I saw it too. I followed her first instance. I’m guessing she’s over fifty, very experienced, calm personality—young people just don’t have that kind of strategic composure. Maybe she’s a retired professional.”

“Wasn’t this instance supposed to be closed to newcomers?”

“Can ordinary newcomers be the same as internal professionals? She probably got in through an internal referral channel.”

“When will 【Crime Analysis】 ever have another high-IQ beauty like Dash? Trident’s qualification test for this game is way too strict. Let’s stir up some waves in the community again!”

“Maybe that newcomer is here right now, so keep your voices down.”

“Yeah. Who do you think it is?”

Julian Grant listened in with pricked ears while sizing up the “retired professional” sitting across from him, finding it a bit amusing.

The group hunched their shoulders, covertly scanning the crowd for the “newcomer,” but failed to find a suitable target. They never even considered The Vault, assuming she was a player’s family member or staff from Trident.

Coming up empty, they started discussing the instance’s plot again.

“Man, you guys have no idea. I played Spencer Lewis, and I was so miserable. My job was a game streamer, right? I thought all the clues were among my in-game friends, so I kept dragging my viewers through runs, staying up late, grinding as a streamer. Only at the end did I realize I was actually playing a simp! And to keep running the instance, I ignored Julia Campbell’s calls twice in a row!”

“That’s better than me. I played a cheating woman. I found Spencer Lewis, thought he was the culprit, called him to my place, and confronted Michael Wood. Michael Wood got furious, beat up the lover, the plot collapsed, and I got booted out.”

They sighed and laughed over these ridiculous details. Julian Grant let his guard down and choked on his food, holding back a cough as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Come on, what you guys had were just accidents. The player in my instance was the real problem—kept picking fights with me, insisting he was right and I should listen to him. Ugh! Why should I listen to him in a team instance? He was just trying to ride the hype for money. So we fought at the start, both ended up in the hospital for two days, and got kicked out of the game when we were discharged.”

“I drew Michael Wood, you know? For the viewers, I cross-dressed and wore high heels, then went to confront Julia Campbell. Julia Campbell was so freaked out. And just like that, the plot collapsed—can you believe it?”

As they talked, they realized something was off.

“How did everyone fail? Didn’t anyone clear it?”

“This game doesn’t even have a save function. Every time I fail, it catches me off guard. If I could do it again, I’d definitely pass.”

“So it all depends on your teammates. In that newcomer’s stream next door, the player for Spencer Lewis was a slacker, did nothing, but the newcomer managed to explore 80% of the plot on her own, skipped 【Night of Murder】, and ended up with a perfect exploration score. I almost cried watching it, seriously.”

“I think the Julia Campbell in that instance was a slacker too, but at least their acting was decent, so it helped a bit.”

Julian Grant hadn’t expected to get caught in the crossfire while eavesdropping, and his expression turned dark as he shot a chilly glare at the speaker.

Noted.

Next time, he’d cast them as a background extra in the instance.

While Julian Grant was distracted, The Vault had already finished eating. She set her chopsticks down, pushed her bowl aside, and rested her hands on the table, watching him.

Julian Grant belatedly noticed her gaze. With her staring at him like that, he couldn’t eat another bite and slid half a seat over.

The Vault immediately followed.

Julian Grant had to admit she was targeting him.

“What are you doing?” Julian Grant said. “You’re done eating, you don’t have to wait for me.”

The Vault replied, “We’re all friends now. I hope you can help me with something.”

Julian Grant: “Go ahead.”

The Vault: “I want to meet Julia Campbell.”

Julian Grant’s first reaction was that she was teasing him, deliberately bringing up his character. He even raised his chopsticks, ready to slap them down, but then realized she might be referring to the real person behind Julia Campbell.

His movement froze awkwardly in midair.

“Why do you want to see her?” Julian Grant adjusted himself, calmly withdrawing his arm. “No, that’s against the rules.”

The Vault gave a slight smile and didn’t press: “Alright then. Sorry to bother you.”

She gave up so easily that Julian Grant felt uncomfortable.

That’s it? Does this woman not know how to ask for a favor? Or does she think just spending a little time eating with him counts as rare sincerity?

…Maybe it really does.

Julian Grant awkwardly said, “If you can give me a convincing reason, I can try to pass your message to her lawyer.”

The Vault traced the edge of her ID card with her finger, then said after a moment, “It’s already late today.”

It was already dark outside.

Julian Grant: “Do you have a long story to tell?”

“No, nothing long,” The Vault said. “I’m just too tired today.”

Julian Grant: “Then tomorrow?”

The Vault: “Let’s see tomorrow. I’ll head back first.”

Julian Grant said, “I’ll walk you out. You don’t drive, do you?”

The Vault smiled, “No need, Quinn Foster said he’d pick me up. He lives near University A too, so we’re on the way.”

Julian Grant spent a long time trying to remember who Quinn Foster was. Only after The Vault’s figure disappeared did he recall—it was that psychologist in charge of evaluations.

This was the peak time when many players finished the game, so the lounge was getting more crowded and noisy.

Julian Grant lowered his head, suddenly finding the cold noodles in front of him tasteless.

He lost all interest.

He got up and left, signaling the waiter to clear his dishes.

·

Julian Grant had thought The Vault’s words were just an excuse, but the next morning, The Vault sent him an address, asking to meet there.

When the car arrived at the designated spot, Julian Grant was not surprised to see The Vault standing quietly by the roadside, holding two bouquets of flowers.

She was dressed all in black today, looking even thinner and more gaunt, with little color in her face. The golden characters carved on a nearby tombstone stung his eyes.

Julian Grant: “A cemetery?”

He remembered that The Vault’s mother had died long ago, and there was no mention of close friends or relatives in her file.

The Vault said, “Come on.”

Chapter 39 Logan Carter

The early morning at the end of summer was chilly, especially in a cemetery where the sun had yet to reach. The wind blowing through the mountains carried a particularly oppressive scent.

Julian Grant followed The Vault all the way to a spot near the center, watching as she crouched down and placed the bouquets before two adjacent tombstones.

Gray stone slabs and white chrysanthemums—after death, a person’s existence becomes so simple.

Julian Grant recalled that The Vault had once said she nearly went bankrupt buying two burial plots; this must be the place. But he still didn’t understand what this had to do with Julia Campbell.

He bent down to look at the inscriptions on the tombstones. When he finally saw the names clearly, he froze.

“They are…”

The Vault nodded and said, “A year ago, she happily told me her son was about to be released from prison. But after waiting ten years, she was nervous and didn’t know how to face him, what attitude to take to protect her son—how to keep him from feeling uncomfortable with distant family ties, and how to persuade him to embrace a new life. I said, I’m not a psychology expert, I don’t know. But he should be able to understand your acceptance of him.”

Listening to her, Julian Grant realized that The Vault and this lady named “Logan Carter” had an unusual relationship.

When she mentioned this person, her tone would waver, and her eyes showed sadness as she looked at the cold tombstone.

Quinn Shelby thought she was unfeeling and lacked empathy, but clearly, that wasn’t true.

Julian Grant’s thoughts drifted as he heard The Vault say, “During the ten years her son was in prison, she never gave up appealing. She always believed her son was wronged, because Harry Forrest insisted so. As a mother, she could only rely on her trust in her son to keep going. But even after Harry Forrest was released, they never found any evidence to overturn the case.”

The Vault brushed her fingers over the photo, wiping away the dust.

The woman in the photo had bright features and a radiant smile—a photo taken when she was young. After Harry Forrest went to prison, she never took another nice picture.