In addition, he had a gentle temperament and a mild personality, earning universal praise. Not only was he a leader in his field, but he could even be called a perfect modern man.

Harold Thornton was actually the real target behind the scenes.

In the end, he died, ending his own life in a semi-suicidal car accident. He became a sample of the other party’s successful experiment, sinking with a tainted reputation into an unfinished file.

The Vault felt a chill rush up from the soles of her feet, making her whole body tingle and waves of nausea rise. Then came a surge of furious anger, burning fiercely, igniting every nerve in her body.

She simply couldn’t accept it, let alone forgive it—just because of such a lowly amusement, someone would test so-called human nature and destroy another’s life. Especially someone like Harold Thornton, who worked hard with faith and lived honestly in society.

“The Vault... The Vault!”

The Vault was jolted awake by a forceful bump from Julian Grant, snapping out of her daze and relaxing her grip. She turned her head to meet Julian Grant’s concerned gaze, nodded, and said, “Sorry, I got distracted.”

Quinn Foster exclaimed, “You’re spacing out... even during such an intense topic?”

The Vault responded with a quiet “Mm,” looking drained. She relaxed her body, shifted back, leaned against the sofa, and said, “I guess Sean Hall must have threatened Harold Thornton with custody. There’s not much emotional connection left between Sean Hall and Harold Thornton; maybe she’s already prepared to divorce him. She has a stable job and is more family-oriented than Harold Thornton, so the court would more likely award the child to the mother. But Harold Thornton also cherishes his child very much, so in this regard, he had no choice but to give in to Sean Hall.”

Julian Grant stared at The Vault for a long time, making sure she was okay before looking away and saying, “So, Harold Thornton was under a lot of pressure, and Sean Hall even teamed up with Charles Linton to pressure him further, wanting to ruin his reputation. The consecutive betrayals by Sean Hall and Meredith Stone left him deeply disappointed...”

Quinn Foster stroked his chin and said, “Maybe Harold Thornton wanted to show them, ‘Stop pushing me. I’ve got nowhere left to go.’”

The Vault responded in a low voice, showing her agreement.

The alarm on the police officer’s desk went off. He quickly pressed stop and said, “Sorry, I have more work scheduled. Do you have any other questions?”

“No, that’s all.” Julian Grant saluted, “Thank you for your help.”

The officer returned the salute and smiled, “Serving the people.”

Chapter 99: Friends

After the call ended, Julian Grant began tidying up the computer on the desk. No one spoke, and the air gradually grew quiet.

Quinn Foster noticed The Vault’s gloomy aura and hurried to make his escape, grabbing his coat and saying, “I’ve got work too, I’ll head out first.”

He made a clever getaway, leaving Julian Grant once again with a private moment for two, and the atmosphere instantly became more cheerful.

Julian Grant paused what he was doing and asked, “What were you thinking about just now? Your face looked so dark.”

“I was thinking about something really pointless.” The Vault leaned her head back against the sofa, looking up and speaking softly, “Harold Thornton was targeted, and Sean Hall and Meredith Stone were just means to force him down the wrong path... He was such a smart person, but he might never figure out how his tragedy was constructed. After all, it’s impossible to guard against everyone around you... Turns out, pushing someone into the abyss of ruin is actually a very simple thing.”

Julian Grant was momentarily at a loss for words.

The Vault slowly concluded, “It shows that socializing is a high-risk activity. There aren’t really any cute and charming villains, but you might run into a perverted, obsessive sperm-stealing maniac.”

Julian Grant was choked by her deadpan delivery, almost swallowing his own saliva. He said meaningfully, “What’s this? Don’t want to make friends anymore? Going to become a recluse?”

The Vault glanced at him and said, “Those are two different things. Sometimes high-risk things are still worth the challenge—after all, humans are social animals.”

Julian Grant touched his eyebrow, pretending to ask casually, “So what kind of standards are you looking for in a friend?”

His expression was practically spelling out his thoughts, and even if The Vault had no conscience, it would be hard to ignore.

She couldn’t quite understand Julian Grant’s feelings. After all, they’d lived together for so long, and yet Julian Grant was still hung up on the issue of friendship.

But friendship does need a bit of commercial flattery to maintain, so The Vault raised him up in her own way: “If the standard is a little lower than yours, I can accept that.”

Julian Grant was already prepared for her to mock him, and instinctively wanted to retort. His mouth was half open when he suddenly realized—was The Vault... actually complimenting him just now?

A high-risk standard, but still a bit lower than his.

Did that mean he was a little more important than a friend?

Julian Grant closed his mouth, feeling a bubbling joy inside. He decided to ride this wave of happiness and deal with the mess from his complaint first. When he opened his computer to check the documents, he suddenly snapped back to reality.

Why was he so happy? Who was he?

He was a distinguished, money-shining, hard-working, and handsome player, a pay-to-win boss-level character since birth. When did his goal become making friends with The Vault?

...Was he sick?

Julian Grant was stunned.

...It really is ridiculously easy to push someone into the abyss of ruin.

The Vault watched his shifting expression and lowered her head, looking away.

Fickle man. Impossible to coax.

Julian Grant, feeling restless, wrote a brief comment for his complaint, then contacted the supervisor to find out the result of Sean Hall’s negotiations with them.

Sean Hall’s demands were simple and direct, but unfortunately, Trident’s attitude was polite yet firm. She tried everything—arguing, threatening, playing the victim—but still couldn’t get the answer she wanted. When she realized even netizens weren’t on her side, she finally gave up and left.

Julian Grant closed the chat window and said, “Do we still need to go question Sean Hall? I don’t think she’ll cooperate.”

Sean Hall wasn’t the direct culprit. There’s no evidence for a crime like psychological torment. But if they just let it go, Julian Grant still felt it was too unfair for Harold Thornton.

The Vault stood by the window, watching the people coming and going on the wide lawn in the backyard. After a while, she said, “Find Rachel Thornton. She’s younger, so we might be able to get some information about Sean Hall from her.”

Julian Grant asked doubtfully, “Wasn’t she too young back then?”

The Vault’s voice was calm in the air: “Kids are actually very sensitive, especially right after their father dies. During that time, she would definitely pay extra attention to her mother, trying to get the half of love she was missing. And she wasn’t that little then—she should remember something. If she had the good habit of keeping a diary like Lei Feng, that would be even better.”

Julian Grant took out his phone and made two calls in a row, but neither went through.

The Vault listened to the busy and then disconnected system tone and said, “She’s probably been locked up by Sean Hall.” At the time, Sean Hall was clearly very angry and didn’t want Rachel Thornton to get involved.

Julian Grant said, “We’ll find another chance to call her out.”

The Vault added lightly, “No need.”

Julian Grant quickly clarified, “If I go to her house again, my complaint file will really end up on my boss’s desk! That’s not going to work!”

The Vault raised her hand and pointed, “Isn’t that Rachel Thornton over there?”

Julian Grant walked over, pressed his head to the window, and looked in the direction she indicated.

Sure enough, it was Rachel Thornton, bouncing her way over.

Soon, the energetic girl burst into the hospital room.

“So tragic! My mom confiscated my phone and tried to lock me in my room! Hah, as if it’s that easy?”

Rachel Thornton was sweating from running. She took off her bag and couldn’t wait to ask, “What on earth did you say at my house this morning?”

This morning, Quinn Foster had said something with a hidden meaning, leaving a thorn in Rachel Thornton’s heart that she couldn’t ignore. Sean Hall’s overreaction also made her sense something was wrong, so as soon as she got the chance, she ran out to see Julian Grant.

The Vault turned around and looked at her quietly. Julian Grant’s language system also went blank for a long time, not knowing how to tell this girl about her family’s dysfunction.

Rachel Thornton, confused, looked back and forth between the two of them and said loudly, “Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

The Vault handed her a bottle of water.

Rachel Thornton took it unconsciously and said anxiously, “No! What do you mean? Did you find out the cause of my father’s death? It’s obvious—my dad really was a good person!”

Julian Grant mumbled, “We don’t deny that.”

“Then hurry up and clear his name! My dad died so unjustly!” Rachel Thornton gripped the water bottle tightly, and seeing their reaction, narrowed her eyes and asked dangerously, “Why didn’t the police release the details at the time? Are you afraid to say?”

The Vault turned her face aside and said helplessly, “Why so many conspiracy theories?”