He had empty beds at home, so if friends or employees came over, it was convenient for them to stay the night. But a group of men could be careless about such things, while The Vault probably wasn’t used to sleeping in a bed someone else had already used.

“No need.” The Vault went straight to the sofa, lay down on it, and said softly, “I’ll just sleep here for a while. I’ll skip lunch and leave tonight. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Julian Grant opened his mouth to say something, but seeing how truly exhausted she was, he held back.

He went to the kitchen to pour a glass of milk, and as he passed through the living room, he instinctively turned his head to glance at the sofa.

The Vault was lying there motionless, her long hair spread out beside her. Julian Grant stood there in a daze for a moment, sensing something was off, then went over and drew the curtains tightly, not leaving a single gap. Only then did he tiptoe to the study to start working.

The first thing Julian Grant did was open the Trident forum, log in as a backend administrator, and begin drafting an official announcement.

Around seven in the morning, a highlighted announcement was pinned to the top of the Trident forum and official website. The wording was stern and the stance was clear.

The statement said that, according to Trident’s backend investigation, a certain MCN company, due to malicious competition, had deployed a large number of paid posters online to spread false information. Not only did they leak the personal information of an official Trident player, but they also smeared her reputation. Their methods were despicable and the impact severe. If not stopped, it would lead to unhealthy competition in the industry, and it had already drawn the serious attention of Trident’s management.

From now on, Trident would sever all cooperation with that company and blacklist them permanently. The artists signed under that company would also have their security levels reduced until their contracts were terminated.

This incident alone was enough to cause a shockwave in the industry. Trident’s tough stance made netizens cheer, but as they scrolled down, they found there was more.

In the second half of the statement, Julian Grant briefly described the incident where The Vault had paint thrown at her door in the middle of the night. The perpetrator was a family member of the deceased whose “persona” had collapsed due to the plot setup in [Crime Analysis]. He emphasized the tragic experience of a woman living alone being harassed by four people late at night. He also stated that the plot arrangements in the instance had been strictly reviewed by the official team, and advised the public not to trouble the participants, or else Trident would reserve the right to take legal action.

Thinking of last night’s doxxing incident, netizens immediately realized that the person being harassed was The Vault, and mentally matched the other villains to their roles. Early risers read the entire statement, started their day full of anger, upvoting the post and cursing in the comments.

“Are they crazy? Don’t they know what kind of people they are? After being exposed, they still go after the players?”

“The person who decided to leak The Vault’s home address deserves to be damned. Don’t they have any sense? Is she your competitor? Are you trying to suppress a big shot and force her to sign with you? Do you think Trident will just sit by?”

“Capitalists causing trouble with their brainless antics.”

“No wonder! After that rumor-mongering post came out yesterday, so many influencers jumped on the bandwagon with their snide comments. What kind of people are they? Every single one of them—brothers, steer clear! [Image]”

“Trident handled this so quickly, good job. I hope they can keep up the protection. I’m counting on you to look after my wife.”

“They had to act fast—people have already ended up at the police station. What a disaster out of nowhere. Poor little fairy sister.”

“Can I get a refund for the money I donated before? They’re clearly scammers, that wasn’t my intention.”

Julian Grant scrolled through the comments, then closed the screen with peace of mind and stretched.

·

The Vault originally thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep. After all, it was already daylight, and the sounds of daily life were starting up everywhere. Based on past experience, she could only stay awake in such an environment. Unexpectedly, her mind grew hazy and she soon drifted off.

She could hear Julian Grant’s footsteps on the floor, the crisp sound of his fingers tapping the keyboard, and even his uniquely deep voice as he spoke.

Everything around her was full of life, and instead of agitating her nerves, that vitality calmed her down.

Half-awake, half-asleep, Julian Grant came over, gently supported her head with one hand, pulled out the arm she was using as a pillow, placed a small cushion under her head, and covered her with a thin blanket.

The Vault sensed it, but found it hard to move.

By the time she was fully awake, it was nearly noon.

Chapter 59: The Truth

After waking up, The Vault lay there for a while longer. Only when the heaviness in her body faded a bit did she sit up. She neatly folded the blanket and went to open the curtains.

Blinding light streamed in, instantly brightening the room.

The house was completely quiet. The Vault glanced around, confirming that Julian Grant had already left.

She didn’t enter the closed rooms, but just from the hallway and living room, it was clear that Julian Grant’s living habits weren’t as terrifying as those rumored about single men. He was actually quite particular.

The Vault paused in front of the display cabinet for a moment. It held many items that looked useless but were actually precious, including unfinished products that Trident hadn’t released yet, and various limited-edition memorabilia.

The Vault smiled, the corners of her lips curving up.

If she casually took one out and found a company to copy it, she could sell the technology patent.

Q-ge just let her in like this—he really was bold.

When she first arrived, The Vault hadn’t paid much attention to the layout of the apartment and had just collapsed into sleep. But from her brief memories, it seemed Julian Grant had tidied up the place, so there were more items along the hallway leading to the left rooms. The room at the end of the hall was the guest room he’d cleared out for The Vault.

Julian Grant wasn’t usually such a warm person, so The Vault hadn’t expected him to actually do it.

The Vault found it a bit funny. She rarely accepted such clear and straightforward kindness from others; most of the time, she would proactively refuse.

Because in her analysis, relationships are a matter of give and take. Accepting means you’ll have to give in return. Adult friendships have a price tag, and can even be exclusive—rarely are there selfless relationships without blood ties.

The last person to intrude into her life was Logan Carter. Logan Carter gave to her selflessly because he wanted to find solace for his own loneliness. But what about Julian Grant?

They weren’t family.

The Vault paced back to the living room, standing in the somewhat cramped open space, hesitating whether to go home or wait for Julian Grant to return so she could say goodbye.

Last night had been too chaotic; she only had pajamas and a phone with her.

The Vault bent down and found a sticky note on the coffee table. On it, Julian Grant had written that he had to go out for a bit, and if she woke up, she should wait a while—he’d take her home later to get what she needed.

So The Vault sat down and turned on the TV to look for something to watch.

As The Vault flipped through the homepages of various video apps, trying to find something entertaining, her phone rang.

She glanced at it casually and, seeing it was an unfamiliar number, ignored it.

The caller persisted, dialing again as soon as the call ended.

When the same number appeared for the third time, The Vault finally answered.

“Hello?”

There was no sound from the other end.

The Vault turned on the speaker and waited three seconds. Hearing no response, she called out again, “Hello?”

A faint sound of breathing came from the other side—someone was there, just not speaking.

The Vault’s finger paused on the remote. She lowered her head, a slight ripple appearing in her otherwise calm eyes.

“Hello.”

A very brief male voice, so short it was impossible to tell the tone.

The Vault had a hunch. She put down the remote and brought the phone to her ear.

“Harry Forrest.” She called his name, unsure what emotion to use. “You’re still alive.”

It had been more than five months since Harry Forrest disappeared. This was the first time The Vault had received a call from him, and after all this time, their broken connection was subtly reestablished.

The Vault wasn’t particularly surprised. She had participated in [Crime Analysis], so she knew Harry Forrest would definitely see it. If he still had anyone he could trust, it would probably be her. Who could resist the temptation of a floating straw when you’re about to be swept away by a flood?

The Vault lowered her eyelids, unexpectedly recalling something Julian Grant had once said.

In fact, she hadn’t found Harry Forrest back then—or rather, she didn’t think Harry Forrest needed her that much at the time.

She didn’t have Julian Grant’s sharp and warm empathy, so it was only after she belatedly realized what had happened that she began to feel guilty.

The Vault had wanted to ask, “Are you okay?” but her voice caught after just two words.

“Thank you,” Harry Forrest said first, “but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The Vault got up and walked to the balcony.

Harry Forrest’s voice was low and hoarse: “Teacher, can I trust you?”

“Of course,” The Vault replied.