Harry Forrest pulled his cap low, eating noodles from his bowl. Through the hazy white steam, he gazed at the phone screen in front of him.

Not long after, the car door opened and a petite girl slipped inside, sitting down next to him.

Seeing the red veins in his eyes, the girl softly suggested, “Hank Hall, maybe you should go back and get some rest? There’s nothing you can do just waiting here. He might not come back.”

Harry Forrest didn’t respond. He took a couple more bites, put down his chopsticks, brought his phone closer, scrolled through the messages, and quietly read them out loud.

It was as if he’d realized something. He turned to the girl and said, “You get out.”

The girl clutched her seatbelt, protesting anxiously, “I don’t want to!”

Harry Forrest frowned, not wanting to argue with her. He quickly finished the remaining food in his bowl, started the car, and drove toward The Vault’s location.

Chapter 122: The Driver

Early the next morning, before the sky had fully brightened, The Vault was already dressed and out the door.

She made a point of moving quietly, even closing the door with extra care. Before leaving, she checked to make sure there was no movement from Julian Grant’s room, then headed straight to the parking lot.

She lowered her head to adjust her seatbelt and replied to a text from Henry Harris. When she looked up, she saw Julian Grant standing in front of the car, his face dark.

Comrade Lao He stood with his hands behind his back, his sharp gaze full of reproach, like a senior leader making a surprise inspection and discovering a major mistake—his expression was written all over with disappointment. When he saw she’d finally noticed him, he sneered and made a throat-slitting gesture at his neck.

The Vault: “……” How is he so sneaky?

Julian Grant walked to the side and knocked on the window.

Facing the chilly west wind of the morning, The Vault took the initiative and asked, “Why are you here?”

“You’re asking me? Sneaking around behind my back, doing shady things—are you afraid I’ll find out?” Julian Grant nearly jumped in frustration, his face twisted in a mocking smile. “You dare drive without a license? You’re really bold, aren’t you? Do you know how many traffic accidents happen in our country every year? Do you know that over a hundred thousand people die in traffic accidents annually? This industry doesn’t need you adding to the numbers!”

The Vault was stunned by his scolding and meekly replied, “I’m using autopilot.”

Julian Grant yelled at her, jabbing a finger at the steering wheel: “You still need a license for autopilot! What if something unexpected happens on the road?”

The Vault swallowed, not sure why she was nervous—maybe just affected by his mood. She calmed herself and explained, “I called a designated driver, but he can’t get into the complex. I’m just going out to pick him up. It’s… only a kilometer?”

“Cancel the order! Tell him to go back! Just give him a good review!” Julian Grant thought for a moment, then added unhappily, “If you don’t cancel, I’ll give him a bad review!”

…What did the driver ever do to deserve this?

Julian Grant wouldn’t let it go: “And what’s wrong with calling a driver? Let me tell you, from here to the gate, even if it’s just one kilometer, you’re still driving without a license for that kilometer! You’re committing a crime! You’re letting down all those years of moral education your teachers gave you! Open the door! Press the button that’s lit up down there!”

The Vault knew what to do and pressed it before he finished.

Julian Grant opened the car door, grabbed her by the back of her collar like a chick, and lifted her out, then coolly nodded his chin, signaling her to go to the other side, before getting into the driver’s seat himself.

Feeling guilty, The Vault silently sat on the other side. Julian Grant, like a lion reigning over his territory, slowly straightened his white sleeves, fixed his inside-out collar and mismatched buttons. His movements were a mix of dominance, indifference, and the pride of catching someone red-handed.

The Vault: “……”

Julian Grant’s anger subsided a little. He asked, “Where are you going?”

The Vault hesitated, not answering, and instead asked, “Aren’t you going to work?”

Julian Grant said, “My prospective girlfriend is driving my car, sneaking out early in the morning behind my back—how am I supposed to go to work?”

His hair was a mess, clearly from jumping out of bed in a hurry. The fact that he’d managed to change into clean clothes was already impressive; expecting more was too much.

He ran his hand through his fluffy hair in the mirror, only to find a stubborn cowlick that wouldn’t stay down. Annoyed, he glared at The Vault again.

For the first time, The Vault realized that Julian Grant was quite good at taking advantage of a situation. Since when was she his “prospective girlfriend”? How could he just upgrade her title on his own?

Shameless.

After a brief struggle, Julian Grant decided to give up on his hair and drove the car out of the complex.

He passed the gate and pulled over. Not far away, a man in a blue work uniform, hands in his pockets, was looking toward the entrance. When he saw them, he immediately jogged over.

The young man bent down, knocked on the window twice, and called out, “Teacher The Vault.”

The Vault pressed her lips together and turned away, gazing thoughtfully out the window.

Julian Grant slowly rolled down the window, his face expressionless as he met the man’s gaze. The young man recognized him, gasped, and instinctively tried to cover his face.

Of course Julian Grant recognized him. Did he really think a hat and a fake beard could disguise him? They’d seen each other several times recently and had even built a bit of camaraderie—almost to the point of calling each other brothers.

Resting his arm on the window, Julian Grant smiled and said, “Comrade Lao Zhang, can public officials moonlight as designated drivers now? Does Captain Harris pay you a salary? Or is it too little, so you have to find side gigs to support your family?”

The young man gave a dry laugh, bent down, and waved in greeting.

“What a coincidence, I was just passing by and thought I’d take Teacher The Vault out for a stroll, broaden her…”

Under Julian Grant’s intense stare, he trailed off, close to tears. He felt like such a pitiful public servant—picking someone up felt like sneaking around, with no dignity at all.

Julian Grant scrutinized them, his tone dangerous: “Where exactly are you two trying to go behind my back?”

The security guard was already looking at them suspiciously, his subtle chin-scratching betraying a vivid imagination.

Julian Grant didn’t want to someday hear rumors about himself being cuckolded, so he waved and said, “Get in the car first!”

The young man immediately jumped into the back seat.

·

“Captain Harris.”

Static crackled from the walkie-talkie, clearly the signal in this area wasn’t great. The young man pressed his earpiece and said, “He’s gone, the house is empty.”

Henry Harris walked up the smooth path, her gaze sweeping over the fields on either side, picturing what it would have looked like when Zachary Campbell was here. Finally, she stopped at a self-built country house.

Faded Spring Festival couplets still hung on both sides of the house, and a black coupe was parked in the yard.

The young man, who had been taking notes inside, came out to report, “Captain Harris. This is the car with fake plates that Zachary Campbell drove out of City A. But this coupe isn’t registered under his name, nor is it listed as a company asset. We don’t know whose name it was bought under, or how many similar vehicles he might have.”

If Zachary Campbell really had multiple hideouts, their manhunt might fall into a passive position again.

It was déjà vu—when Harry Forrest escaped, they’d gone through this once before. The difference was, Harry Forrest had managed to get away in the end, partly because of Captain Harris’s momentary hesitation.

Henry Harris believed Harry Forrest wasn’t the murderer, and that he could help guide their investigation, but she had no concrete evidence.

With a deep, thoughtful look, Henry Harris stared at the empty house and wiped her face, standing in the yard with her hands on her hips.

They’d requested backup, dozens of people had checked surveillance footage all night, expanding the time frame and checking each car one by one, finally tracking down this fake-plated car. Then, following its route, they’d launched a rapid pursuit.

So many people worked through the night, yet they were still a step too late.

Every time, they seemed to hit the enemy’s weak spot, but Zachary Campbell still managed to slip away like a ghost.

“We’re close.” Henry Harris didn’t know if she was talking to them or to herself. “Let’s keep pushing—we’re matching his pace now.”

At this point, Zachary Campbell was surely more panicked and afraid than they were.

“Captain Harris.” A male voice came through the earpiece again, sounding faint as if he were standing in the wind. “We found a privately installed camera at the intersection. We tried to connect, but the signal’s already cut.”

The young man beside her sighed in frustration, pounding his leg. “Looks like Zachary Campbell knows we’re after him—he won’t be coming back.”

Henry Harris frowned, a sense of foreboding rising inside, though she didn’t show it on her face. She licked her lips and issued orders: “Zachary Campbell must have just left. No matter how clever he is, he can’t just vanish into thin air. Everyone! Expand the search of the surrounding roads, check the village surveillance, confirm Zachary Campbell’s escape route! Contact the nearby police stations and ask any available staff to help with the search. Xiao Liu, you stay in the village for now—talk to the locals and see if anyone’s noticed anything.”