Everyone was assigned their tasks, responded loudly, and immediately ran off to make arrangements.

Henry Harris was still a bit uneasy. She often had this feeling when a case was nearing its conclusion, which allowed her to stay alert at the most critical moments. After all, the closer it got to the end, the more likely the suspect, driven to desperation, would do something unexpected.

She thought for a moment, took out her phone, and composed a text message.

Henry Harris: Xiao Zhang, is there anything going on over there?

Franklin: No problem, it's just that Julian Grant has followed along too.

Henry Harris: Zachary Campbell is missing. He might go looking for The Vault. Remember to stay flexible, and no matter what happens, your top priority is to ensure your own safety.

Franklin: Understood!

Henry Harris: Where are you now? I'll have someone from the nearby police station meet up with you.

Franklin: Just got on the highway, I'll send you my location.

·

His black eyes were hidden under the brim of his hat, half his face deeply concealed as the man stared unblinkingly at the image on his tablet.

When he saw the police car pass by his house, his expression twitched, and he almost bit through his own lip, but quickly returned to normal.

A rock song was playing on the car stereo, the explosive music and hoarse screaming constantly stirring up the anxiety deep inside him.

The man shook his head to the rhythm, then closed the app and slammed his fist onto the steering wheel.

He pounded the black wheel again and again, venting his anger. The car blared its horn shrilly, releasing all the rage he couldn't shout out.

After a moment, the man finally calmed down. He stopped, rubbed his right knuckles, and once his mood was adjusted, opened another surveillance feed, watching as Julian Grant's car drove out of the neighborhood, exhaling heavily.

He slowly drove his car under the surveillance camera, took off his mask, and, without any concern, gave a sinister smile to whoever was behind the lens.

·

Early in the morning, even in the main city, traffic was still very smooth. Julian Grant was driving at the speed limit of 60 mph, listening as old Franklin stammered his way through the explanation.

Henry Harris had taken people to pursue Zachary Campbell based on clues, but was worried that The Vault might have bad luck alone, so she asked him to come over for protection.

Old Franklin gave The Vault a regretful look and shrugged, saying, "It's not that I don't want to cover for you, brother, but I really can't keep it up anymore."

The Vault said helplessly, "I just want to visit my parents' graves, nothing else."

Last night, Zachary Campbell disappeared and went on the run. The Vault thought that if Zachary Campbell wanted to find her, it would at least take some time to arrange, so she deliberately chose an early hour, giving Zachary Campbell no chance to react, making the trip safer.

Her original plan was that if Henry Harris still had no leads, she would wait for Zachary Campbell near the cemetery. That man was proud by nature; facing the pursuit of the national Skynet system, he definitely couldn't accept a life of hiding.

He would surely arrange a grand finale.

"If it's nothing else, why not call me? Can't I drive?" Julian Grant complained as he set the GPS, "Do I not have hands or feet? For something like this, you'd rather go through the trouble of asking Captain Harris for help than come to me?"

The Vault blinked, confused: "If there's trouble, of course you go to the police uncle."

Julian Grant said, "But your situation is different now. If you have trouble, you can come to me. I'm younger than him, stronger than him, and better at fighting. Wouldn't it be better to ask me for this kind of thing?"

Old Franklin knew it was inappropriate to speak up at this moment and might affect their friendship, but he couldn't stand seeing the abilities of a public servant underestimated, so he lowered his voice and said, "I'm armed."

Julian Grant glanced at the rearview mirror: "So what if you're armed? This car is mine! It's fully bulletproof!"

"Wow!" Comrade old Franklin, in order not to be thrown out of the car, gave a perfunctory compliment, "That's amazing..."

The Vault: "..." Is being cheeky now a required skill for detectives?

Julian Grant turned the steering wheel, following the road signs, and then asked in confusion, "Why are your parents' graves outside A City? Didn't they always live in A City?"

The Vault said, "It was arranged by the elders."

The cemetery had been chosen long ago, outside A City, supposedly for good feng shui. Many of The Vault's father's relatives were buried there.

When her parents passed away, The Vault didn't handle the arrangements. Because it was so far away and she felt some resistance in her heart, she had only visited the graves a handful of times.

Julian Grant checked the distance—at least another hour to go. The Vault had snuck out without even eating breakfast, which meant Julian Grant was also hungry.

He signaled to old Franklin to rummage through the packages in the back seat, saying, "Let's listen to something, maybe some music, and take it easy. I have some biscuits and drinks in the car."

Old Franklin said gratefully, "Thanks!"

Julian Grant said, "I told my prospective girlfriend that."

Old Franklin: "..." The friendship is gone.

The Vault took a box of small bread and a box of biscuits from old Franklin, and ate a little.

Julian Grant watched her cheeks move as she ate, feeling restless inside. He coughed, hinting, "The Vault, I haven't had breakfast either."

The Vault replied, "Oh."

And that was it.

Julian Grant: "..." Do I really have to beg you? You're eating my food, can't you at least offer me some?

He couldn't get angry at The Vault, so he glared at old Franklin in the rearview mirror.

It was all his fault, the third wheel. That's why The Vault was being so reserved.

Old Franklin quietly cracked open a window, trying to use the whistling wind to ease the awkwardness in the car.

Was this really his fault? He was just a designated driver who couldn't even drive.

The highway was winding and the road surface not very smooth, but fortunately the car's chassis was stable, so there was no sense of bumpiness.

Old Franklin was busy texting in the back seat, coordinating with the contacts on Henry Harris's side. His fingers flew over the screen, and he kept glancing back at the road behind them.

His suspicious behavior made even old Franklin want to laugh. Old habits die hard.

As Julian Grant drove along a hilly road, he finally couldn't help but ask, "Did you think it through about yesterday? It's been almost 12 hours. Even if you subtract 8 hours for sleep, you still had four hours to think. If each thought takes three seconds, then you could have thought about it..."

The Vault did the math for him and quietly reminded, "4,800 times."

"Exactly, 4,800 times!" Julian Grant said, carefully watching her out of the corner of his eye. "You're so smart, if you can't figure it out after 4,800 times, it must be one of the world's unsolved mysteries."

The Vault muttered, "It is one."

Old Franklin asked blankly, "What problem?"

The two answered in unison.

Julian Grant: "Marriage."

The Vault: "Love."

The Vault looked at him in confusion.

"Love, love," Julian Grant coughed, trying to cover up his eagerness. "A father... a boyfriend who loves his partner must plan for the long term. That's what I mean."

The Vault: "..." I knew you still want to be my dad.

Julian Grant didn't stay quiet for long before saying, "Did you refuse me yesterday because you thought you'd be in danger? Zachary Campbell is a madman. Until we catch him, you don't feel safe. Actually, you wanted to say yes."

The Vault immediately replied, "No."

Julian Grant said, word by word, "You definitely did!"

"Don't be so stubborn," The Vault said. "If you won't accept my answer, why even ask?"

Julian Grant insisted, "You didn't show your work. I have reason to suspect you're saying one thing and thinking another."

Old Franklin didn't expect to get dragged into this love-hate drama. But after listening for a while and not understanding, he leaned over the front seat and asked, "Huh? Weren't you two already together? You're even living together."

At this, Julian Grant shouted, pushing his luck, "See! Look! In other people's eyes, my reputation is already gone. Shouldn't you take responsibility for me?"

For a moment, The Vault wanted to press his head against the windshield.

...So who was it that invited her to move in in the first place? Wasn't it you, J. Grant, who gave up your 'innocence' willingly?

Old Franklin finally understood, and with the tone of someone who's been there, said, "So you two are... that kind of relationship? Oh, I get it, I get it, times have changed. But young people, it's better to be stable. If your nightlife is harmonious, you can try taking the next step. Think it through."

...Even Julian Grant felt like old Franklin was a whole generation older than him.

Neither of them spoke.

Their nightlife was very pure, and harmonious, but nowhere near as eventful as old Franklin imagined.

Old Franklin thought they were just shy, so he leaned back in his seat with a grin, letting these two single dogs savor the philosophy of life.