Part 134
Julian Grant was very satisfied: “This one, please. Wrap it up.”
The shop assistant asked, “How many?”
“A big bouquet,” Julian Grant said. “Big enough for me to hold with one hand.”
The shop assistant made a serious gesture, giving him a knowing look. “Understood! Please wait a moment, sir!”
Five minutes later, Julian Grant walked out of the shop holding a fresh and elegant bouquet of white roses, carefully placing them on the back seat of the car.
·
On The Vault’s end, she had just hung up on Quinn Shelby, muttering, “So strange.” Before she could lower her hand, Julian Grant’s call came through.
She answered casually and said with a smile, “Q-ge.”
Surprisingly, Julian Grant wasn’t annoyed by her calling him that. Instead, he politely asked, “Would you like to go out for a meal?”
The Vault found this a bit unusual.
“Sure.”
Julian Grant asked again, “What do you want to eat?”
The Vault thought for a moment. “Grilled fish, I guess.”
“Alright, I’ll come home to pick you up now.” Julian Grant paused, then said, “Why is there so much background noise on your end?”
The Vault replied, “I’m not at home, I’m at the mall. I broke the mop at home, so I came out to buy a new one.”
Only then did Julian Grant remember he’d forgotten to leave her the housekeeper’s number. But she probably just wanted to get out for a bit anyway.
“I’ll come pick you up now,” Julian Grant said. “Send me your location.”
The Vault sent her location using an app.
But for some reason, maybe there was a magnetic building nearby interfering with the signal, and her phone’s network wasn’t great either. When she opened the map, the location icon in the lower left kept spinning, and the map itself wouldn’t load—only a lonely marker showed where she was.
Julian Grant glanced at the location and arranged to meet her at an intersection up ahead.
The Vault had a feeling that intersection was still some distance from her actual location, but since Julian Grant would need time to drive over anyway, she didn’t object.
The Vault wasn’t too familiar with the roads in this area, but she could remember the places she’d passed. On her way here, the navigation had taken her through an old residential area, so she decided to take the same route back.
She carried a long mop in one hand, walking briskly as she turned into a small lane.
Although this neighborhood was old, its prime location meant there were still a few people around.
The Vault walked steadily forward, eyes fixed ahead.
Her shadow stretched behind her, lengthening and shortening with her steps, and when she entered a patch of shade, it disappeared into the cool darkness.
Because she’d been on the phone with Julian Grant, The Vault was distracted and hadn’t been paying attention. But after stepping onto this relatively quiet street, she felt a prickling gaze on her back, growing more and more intense.
The Vault lowered her head, listening carefully for footsteps behind her.
The footsteps varied in weight, suggesting the person was unsteady. They would stop and start, as if adjusting their pace to hers. Judging by the distance, they were getting closer.
It was noon, the sun blazing overhead, yet The Vault felt a chill at her feet.
She quickly turned a corner, ready to look back, when Julian Grant’s call came through again. The familiar ringtone was the most jarring sound in the area, startling The Vault.
She turned around, quickened her pace, and kept moving forward while pulling out her phone, unlocking it with one hand and holding it to her ear.
Julian Grant said, “That restaurant is crowded, so I’ll go reserve a private room first. I forgot to ask what flavor you like.”
The Vault: “Mm…”
Julian Grant laughed, “What does ‘mm’ mean? Does it mean anything is fine?”
The Vault was focused on the sounds behind her and didn’t catch what Julian Grant said. As his voice faded and the world fell into an unusual silence, the footsteps behind her suddenly sped up, pounding the ground and lunging toward her.
The Vault didn’t hesitate. She spun around and hurled her phone at the attacker.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t a professional. The phone traced a black arc through the air, perfectly missing the person and not even stirring the air.
But her sudden attack startled the man. He hadn’t expected her reaction and instinctively paused, dodging to the side. The Vault took the chance to get a good look at his face.
He was a middle-aged man, wearing a loose blue undershirt stained with a yellowish, unidentified blotch. His half-white hair looked unkempt and matted, as if it hadn’t been cared for in ages. He looked disheveled from head to toe.
His eyes were bloodshot, the whites cloudy. His complexion was sallow, and he was thin. There were small scars on his exposed arms and legs.
She’d never seen him before—didn’t know him. His physical condition was clearly poor.
The Vault immediately assessed the situation, gripping the mop handle with both hands and cautiously running toward where there were people.
The middle-aged man snapped out of his daze and reacted, but he didn’t care about the surroundings. Instead, as if enraged, he locked his eyes on The Vault and chased after her.
The Vault looked back and saw the distance between them closing rapidly. Surprised that he wasn’t as weak as she’d imagined, she simply stopped, braced herself, and swung the mop at his head.
This time, the man didn’t dodge. He raised his arm and blocked it head-on. The steel clanged dully against his bones, but he seemed unfazed by the pain, and with his other hand, he grabbed The Vault by the throat.
The Vault had no time to be shocked—a stabbing pain shot through her, and for a moment, she felt the bones in her neck shift out of place.
Now that they were close, The Vault caught a strong stench of tobacco and a complex, foul odor from him. Enduring the pain, she hooked her fingers and scratched his face hard.
The man only turned his head slightly, his grip on her neck as unyielding as steel. Madness flickered in his eyes as he exhaled a cloud of foul breath.
“I’ll kill you… I’m going to kill you! You want to hurt me, so I’ll kill you!”
Unbelievable.
He was definitely a hardcore addict.
The Vault mustered her strength and kicked him hard in the groin. This time, he finally let go.
The Vault collapsed to the ground, chest heaving and unable to breathe. She struggled to get up but couldn’t, so she crawled away on all fours. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man, hunched over, numb to the pain, pull a gleaming knife from his waistband.
A nearby passerby, seeing this, stopped abruptly and backed away.
The Vault: “……” Oh no, come on, man.
·
“The Vault? The Vault!”
Julian Grant only heard a few heavy thuds, and then no matter how he called, there was no response.
A strong sense of foreboding welled up inside him, his heart pounding with panic. He dropped his phone and pressed a button in the car, urgently saying, “Locate The Vault’s position immediately!”
“What’s wrong?” Susan Scott’s voice came from the other end as she pulled out a chair. “Does the young lady have any device on her for precise positioning? If not, I’ll use your call records to locate her.”
Julian Grant: “I need it as fast as possible!”
Susan Scott said, “Give me two minutes.”
Julian Grant clicked his tongue. Two minutes? He didn’t have two minutes!
He looked up. He could already see the mall’s landmark building from where he was, but he had no idea which direction to go. He stared at the street signs for a while, and a thought flashed through his chaotic mind like a jolt of electricity.
“Call the police immediately! Mobilize all available security personnel near the mall to search the outer perimeter! Help me find the shortest walking route from the mall to the No. 2 intersection.”
He pressed his ear, recalling carefully, and added, “She probably avoided the main road. It was very quiet in the background—no car horns, no people talking.”
This time, Susan Scott replied quickly: “Got it. The navigation shows this small road, and the young lady’s current location matches this route.”
Julian Grant glanced at the map, immediately turned the car around, and rushed to the nearest entrance. With no time to park, he stopped the car in front of a shop.
As he jumped out, a young man wearing a hat and keeping his head down walked out of the alley, quickly heading in another direction.
Julian Grant’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, feeling a strange sense of familiarity, but it passed in a flash and he didn’t dwell on it. He quickly looked away and rushed inside.
Chapter 87 Rachel Thornton
The Vault stared at the knife pointed at her, the blade reflecting a blinding light in the sun. She knew that at this moment, no one reliable could help her except herself. She forced herself to ignore the pain in her throat, held her breath, and watched the assailant’s movements, ready to fight back.
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