“You must be tired too, right? Just wait for our updates.” Henry Harris took off his gloves, walked over and patted The Vault on the shoulder, his expression full of appreciation and relief. “You were a huge help today.”

Julian Grant let out a sigh of relief and said with feeling, “Finally, I can go home and sleep.”

If this had been five or six years ago, back when he was in college, pulling three all-nighters in a row wouldn’t have been a problem. But now, after just one night without sleep, he already felt exhausted.

Next to him, The Vault didn’t look very energetic either. She had been standing off to the side, her eyelids drooping the whole time.

Henry Harris gave her a meaningful look and reminded, “Don’t drive when you’re tired. If you’re exhausted, rest here for a while and only drive when you’re fully awake.”

In a place like this, if you could leave, you wouldn’t want to stay a moment longer, let alone rest.

Julian Grant exchanged a few words with them, then pulled The Vault along and left first.

·

The two of them returned home. Faced with the familiar environment, a powerful drowsiness slowly swept over them. They ate a little something, then each went to their own room to rest.

Maybe it was because her biological clock was off, but The Vault slept very restlessly.

Her dreams were a jumble of bizarre images, her consciousness drifting in and out, unable to distinguish reality from illusion.

She didn’t know how many times she had slipped into a half-awake, half-asleep state when a strong vibration startled her awake.

The Vault suddenly realized she was still dreaming, shivered all over, and then opened her eyes.

The room, with its curtains tightly drawn, was dim. The bedding had been kicked to the foot of the bed, and her phone on the nightstand was vibrating non-stop, its faint glow emphasizing its presence.

The Vault rubbed her face hard, trying to shake off the sluggishness, reached over, and picked up her phone.

Squinting, she saw the time in the menu bar above—it was already afternoon.

The caller ID showed Henry Harris. The Vault swiped to answer and put the phone to her ear.

Henry Harris didn’t bother with any preamble and said, “One good news and one bad news!”

The Vault pressed her forehead and played along, guessing, “Harry Forrest has been cleared?”

There was a pause on Henry Harris’s end, and her previously bright voice dropped. Clearly, she hadn’t expected this to be considered “good news.”

“That’s already certain. Once we finish organizing the materials, we’ll make it public. This case has had a big impact, and the department is taking it very seriously. Once the key details are sorted out, Chief Campbell will make an official announcement. Don’t worry.” Henry Harris explained briefly, then added, “So there’s still one good news and one bad news.”

The Vault leaned against the headboard and said lazily, “Let’s hear the good news first.”

“We’ve successfully found the two women in the photo, and they’re both alive,” Henry Harris said. “We contacted them for a brief conversation, and both admitted that Zachary Campbell had secretly pursued them. One was about six or seven years ago, the other about five years ago. While persuading them to keep their relationships secret, Zachary Campbell also encouraged them to make certain changes. But during their relationships, he never had sex with either of them. Zachary Campbell’s attitude was hot and cold, and he preferred platonic love, which made both women feel insecure. When they brought up marriage, Zachary Campbell broke up with them.”

The Vault grunted, “Hmm?”

She was surprised, but not exactly shocked.

If Zachary Campbell really saw them as stand-ins for his mother, it made sense that he couldn’t go further.

Henry Harris continued, her tone carrying a hint of something unspoken: “We investigated Zachary Campbell’s personal situation again. Maybe because of repeated police questioning, the doctor wavered a bit. He told us that Zachary Campbell discovered he had sexual dysfunction during puberty, but at Leonard Campbell’s request, this was hidden from all medical reports. Zachary Campbell actively sought treatment, but unfortunately, nothing worked. It seems to be congenital.”

The Vault’s mouth fell open slightly, stunned by the news.

Though it sounded offensive, it was true that men with sexual dysfunction had a higher chance of developing psychological issues. Social discrimination and inner inferiority could drive them to seek outlets for their frustration. For someone like Zachary Campbell, living in his father’s shadow yet lacking family affection, going astray wasn’t hard to understand.

Extreme inferiority breeds arrogance. He used the abuse of others to prove his own strength, seeking the pleasure he lacked through conquest.

Zachary Campbell had that ability, so he really did it.

This time, The Vault no longer felt that strange confusion inside. It was as if all the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place.

But… The Vault thought it over and still didn’t understand why Zachary Campbell’s sexual dysfunction should count as good news for her.

In Henry Harris’s eyes, perhaps any new clue was good news.

The Vault asked, “And the bad news?”

Henry Harris took a deep breath and didn’t speak right away.

The sudden silence in the conversation gave The Vault a sense of foreboding.

“Zachary Campbell ran.”

Henry Harris managed to stay calm, but there was still a trace of anger in her low voice: “Yesterday, Xiao Liu and the team were stationed at Zachary Campbell’s neighborhood entrance. They didn’t see him or his car, but when they went to arrest him this morning, his home was already empty. It’s my fault. I should have realized something was wrong when he didn’t visit his mother at the hospital yesterday. I thought we were moving fast enough that he wouldn’t notice.”

The Vault didn’t feel much of a reaction. Arresting Zachary Campbell was entirely the police’s job and had nothing to do with her. She was still more concerned about when the announcement about Harry Forrest would be made.

In the background, someone was shouting for Henry Harris. Henry Harris responded, then said to The Vault, “Alright, I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t worry. We have a meeting soon, I’ll hang up now.”

She didn’t wait for The Vault to reply and hung up directly.

Looking at the screen returning to the home page, The Vault noticed that Quinn Foster had called her more than a dozen times in the past two hours, along with countless WeChat messages.

The Vault frowned, hesitating whether to call back, when her phone started vibrating again.

Quinn Foster’s distinctive voice sounded urgently, not even bothering to ask why she hadn’t answered before.

“The Vault, what’s going on? Did you know the teacher was arrested?”

The Vault replied with a simple “Mm” and got up from bed.

Quinn Foster’s breathing was heavy, his voice sharp with anxiety: “You know the inside story, don’t you? Why! What do you suspect him of? He couldn’t possibly be a murderer!”

“Do you think we’d wrongly accuse him? He confessed himself.”

The Vault yanked open the curtains, and the harsh midday sunlight streamed in, making her squint.

On Quinn Foster’s end, his breathing was uneven, hesitating several times but unable to speak. He wanted to ask, but didn’t dare to face the answer. Some questions, once asked, would overturn his worldview. He couldn’t accept that the teacher he’d always respected was actually a murderer with no sense of social morality.

“Madam Xue wants to see you,” Quinn Foster said haltingly. “Zachary Campbell is missing too. His phone is off. I heard the police came looking for him today.”

The Vault responded to his probing without mercy: “He’s absconded out of guilt, hasn’t he?”

Quinn Foster was stunned into silence. Then a hoarse, low howl came from his end, as if he was clutching his hair in anguish.

“What does Mrs. Xue want with me?” The Vault replied with a tone that allowed no personal feelings, “It’s not convenient for me to see her, and I can’t reveal any information. If there’s nothing else, let’s leave it at that.”

“She doesn’t have much time left,” Quinn Foster said weakly. “She really wants to see you… Forget it, it’s up to you.”

In her mind, The Vault pictured Mrs. Xue’s kind yet haggard face, her gentle eyes and caring demeanor still vivid. She shifted her gaze and saw her own expression soften in the makeup mirror, a hint of hesitation flickering in her eyes.

Then, she softly replied, “Alright then.”

There really wasn’t much for The Vault to say to Mrs. Xue.

She stood outside the glass window, watching the patient inside cough violently, her face flushed red from suffocation, her mind going completely blank.

Mrs. Xue patted her own chest, lying on the hospital bed and gasping for breath, struggling painfully at the end of her life.

Quinn Foster stood beside her, his eyes full of grief but utterly helpless.

Soon, the others noticed The Vault’s arrival.

Mrs. Xue’s tear-filled, confused eyes flickered. She waved at the nurse and Quinn Foster, signaling them to leave.

As Quinn Foster passed by The Vault, he paused, opened his mouth as if to speak, but after meeting The Vault’s gaze, fell silent with a complicated expression. His muddled mind couldn’t think of what to say at a time like this, so in the end, he just said, “Thank you.”

Once everyone had left, The Vault closed the door behind her and walked in step by step. This time, she kept her distance from Mrs. Xue, standing half a meter from the foot of the bed without approaching.