“This episode is a showcase for geniuses—I can totally do it!”

“96 points! Eye Shock Alright, I’ve decided to camp in this livestream. I’ve already taken leave, please don’t let me down, boss!”

“I want to go watch the Chaser’s stream, feels like it’ll be even more exciting over there. Sinister Grin”

“Wait, is this 96 points legit? This player seems pretty ordinary.”

“Someone once doubted like this. Lighting Up Later, he lost face.”

Chapter 44: Escape

The Vault closed the game prompt. As the surrounding fog dissipated, she gradually regained control of her body.

She rolled her eyes, slowly scanning her surroundings, analyzing her situation.

Based on the information, she was now indoors, in an area near the outskirts of City A. This apartment belonged to Harry Forrest... the property where Nancy Dawson’s younger sister lived.

The Vault lowered her gaze, and when she saw the female corpse lying in front of her, her pupils involuntarily contracted.

The person had likely just died. There was a lot of blood loss, the wound was on the upper left abdomen, possibly stabbed in the heart. There were obvious external injuries, front teeth missing, and signs of abuse before death.

The Vault then turned to her right. About two meters away, an adult male lay on the ground face up, his expression twisted in pain. He wore no jacket, no shoes or socks, no belt, and had multiple stab wounds on his abdomen. His eyes were unnaturally wide open—he was likely dead as well.

Two corpses in one living room.

The Vault tightened her grip and raised what she was holding. In her palm was a Western-style kitchen knife, the blood on it not yet dry, still dripping down in winding trails. It felt heavy in her hand. The blade was slightly bent—this was probably the murder weapon.

The Vault turned around and looked behind her.

There were bloodstains on the doorknob, suggesting it was opened from the inside. Through the half-open door, a glimpse of a blue figure could be seen—likely a neighbor from upstairs or downstairs who heard the commotion and came to check.

Ignoring other information, from the perspective of the person outside, this room was clearly the crime scene where Nancy Dawson killed two people in succession.

Two corpses with tragic deaths, bloody footprints from stepping in blood, and the murder weapon in hand—there was no way to explain any of it. Not to mention the criminal record and status as a key suspect in a serial murder case.

The three-minute countdown now had two minutes and thirty seconds left.

Under such urgent conditions, three minutes felt far too harsh. The visually shocking scene would immediately grab attention and affect judgment.

Even half a minute wasn’t enough for people to recover from the shock of a murder, let alone find the best escape route from such a limited field of view.

While the viewers were led astray, fiercely debating the real cause of death for the two victims—some not even finishing their sentences—The Vault moved.

She lifted her foot, and at the same time, the game’s official start prompt sounded in the background.

The cold mechanical voice was like a pulled grenade pin, making everyone tense up.

This was a critical moment. Everyone held their breath, and the comment section fell silent.

To everyone’s surprise, The Vault didn’t run toward the balcony, but instead dashed for the door with lightning speed.

She pressed herself against the door seam. As the person outside was cautiously pushing open the security door, their view blocked, she covered their mouth with one hand, grabbed their arm with the other, dragged them inside, and hooked the door shut with her toe.

The person she dragged in was a short, plump middle-aged woman, still carrying a smell of cooking oil. After stumbling in, she saw the corpses on the floor and, for a moment, forgot her own situation, about to scream.

Fortunately, The Vault kept her mouth tightly covered. Taking advantage of her panic, she choked her from behind.

Overwhelming fear made the hostage struggle desperately, but Nancy Dawson’s character was a tall, strong adult male. The Vault only needed a bit of force to completely subdue her.

Feeling the pain and intimidation, the woman finally quieted down.

“Don’t move.” The Vault pressed the blade to her neck, her voice hoarse and low after speaking. “If you don’t want to die, stay quiet.”

The middle-aged woman whimpered in pain, tears streaming down her face, her whole body trembling as she nodded, all resistance gone.

The Vault ordered the hostage to follow her, walked to the sofa, bent down to pick up a rag from the floor, and stuffed it in her mouth. Then she moved to the corner, tore down a power strip, and used the cord to tie up the woman’s hands.

The unlucky middle-aged aunt was so frightened that all her strength left her. Her body went limp like mud, and after losing The Vault’s support, she slid straight to the floor.

She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at The Vault, full of pleading and humility.

The Vault said flatly, “Get up.”

The aunt shook her head, but didn’t dare disobey. She struggled to kneel up on the floor, failing several times due to her lack of agility. By the time she finally managed to get up, The Vault had already brought a wooden chair from the kitchen.

She placed the chair in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and calmly instructed, “Sit down.”

The aunt obediently sat on the chair.

The Vault used the female victim’s scarf, which was hanging on the back of the sofa, to tie the aunt’s legs to the chair, making her unable to move. She double-checked the knots on her hands and feet, then went to the bathroom to fetch a clean towel.

The aunt’s nose blew a snot bubble, making it hard to breathe. She watched The Vault approach again, unable to understand The Vault’s intentions, and tried to make all sorts of sounds to vent her emotions.

“Shouting won’t help. I know they’ll find you here soon. It’s fine, I don’t want to kill you right now. If you behave, you’ll have a chance to get out alive.” The Vault replaced the rag with a clean towel, and sure enough, the woman didn’t try to scream. The Vault gripped her chin and said, “If you bite down too hard, your jaw will dislocate. Don’t waste your energy.”

The aunt, tears streaming down her face, made a few muffled sounds, roughly asking: Why?

The Vault glanced at her emotionlessly and turned away.

The scene seemed chaotic, but the situation was actually clear.

At that moment, the only obvious option was to escape.

One way was to flee via the balcony. The apartment was on the second floor, and there was a canopy below, so jumping out the window wouldn’t cause much injury. But a witness was already at the door and would enter immediately, seeing the two corpses and The Vault’s back.

There was a police station not far from the neighborhood, and response time would be under five minutes. If The Vault tried to escape unprepared, she’d be at a huge disadvantage.

The second way was to escape through the front door. That would be even worse. Two people were already dead in the room, and judging by the scene, there had been a fierce struggle. Other residents, like the hostage, were probably already paying attention to the commotion on the second floor. The Vault feared she wouldn’t even make it out of the neighborhood.

Both options were immediately ruled out by The Vault, showing that running blindly in a crisis wasn’t a good choice.

Time. She needed all kinds of misleading information to buy crucial time.

·

The viewers in the livestream were stunned by her actions.

“?? How did this turn into a hostage situation?”

“I’m watching a kidnapping in an escape livestream?”

“I thought she’d run, and was about to say the 96-point boss really acts decisively, but she came back and turned the crime scene into a locked room. Gasping for Air”

“I get it, this must be to silence the witness. Fits what a fugitive would do, and matches the character.”

“This just shows, don’t go poking your nose in alone. Gossiping needs friends—remember to go in a group.”

·

After settling the hostage, The Vault began carefully searching for the two victims’ phones.

Nancy Dawson didn’t have a phone on him. He’d been under police surveillance for a long time, and to avoid being tracked, he carried no communication devices.

The crime scene had already been disturbed, and would inevitably bear traces of Nancy Dawson. He was the most suspicious person—there was no way around it. When someone sees their sister dying, their first thought isn’t to keep the scene clean to prove their innocence, but to try to save her life.

Fortunately, the area around the male victim was relatively clean, and The Vault deliberately avoided that spot while moving, to avoid making investigation harder.

Soon, The Vault found a phone with a shattered screen under the dining table. Just as she pressed the home button, a loud, urgent banging sounded at the door. The knocking was sharp and forceful, less than half a meter from The Vault, vibrating her eardrums and startling the viewers in the livestream.