Henry Harris didn’t know how to comfort him. There were reasons behind her command as well. She hadn’t expected that, once Zachary Campbell was driven to a dead end, he would go completely insane—to this extent.

Voices kept coming through the channel, everyone reporting in rapid succession, tirelessly gathering clues, searching for Zachary Campbell’s whereabouts, fighting for precious advantages in this race against time.

“The Vault’s tracker has disappeared.”

“We’ve retraced the direction using the license plate.”

“The drone has spotted Zachary Campbell’s car. Sending the location now.”

“There’s an accident ahead, notifying traffic police to handle it.”

“I see Harry Forrest’s car.”

“The drone has found the factory, Zachary Campbell has stopped.”

“Confirmed Zachary Campbell’s location, ambulance and fire department have been notified. Please keep all roads clear.”

“Contacted the nearby police station, guiding local residents to evacuate.”

“……”

A faint excitement and tension mixed in with those calm voices.

Finally, Old Franklin’s regretful, tearful voice sounded: “I didn’t complete the mission!”

Henry Harris: “……”

Julian Grant also started reflecting inappropriately: “If I’d known, I should’ve just crashed into him head-on! My car’s performance is better, right? Huh? Worst case, we both flip over!”

Old Franklin: “I should’ve fired my gun. There were no cars behind us anyway—even if I missed, it could’ve disrupted his actions.”

Henry Harris quickly stopped them: “We’ve almost found him. Lie down and rest for a bit. Don’t mess around.”

The vehicle sped along, the officer driving using years of street-racing experience, overtaking cars with sparks and lightning speed. But they were blocked by a deliberately caused accident on the road.

The driver took an unconventional route, forcing the car straight through the middle.

A few minutes later, the car bounced over a raised speed bump, briefly airborne. As soon as the tires hit the ground, there was a sudden brake.

Julian Grant was shaken dizzy, and the others had already started unbuckling their seatbelts.

“We’re here! The tracker says it’s this place!”

Zachary Campbell’s car, its front end dented from a collision, was parked by the roadside. Besides that, Harry Forrest’s vehicle was also there. No doubt about the location.

The group rushed to the door and pushed at the iron gate.

“It’s locked. An automatic lock, pretty new, must’ve been replaced on purpose.”

“Zachary Campbell really is like a rabbit—he’s got more than three burrows!”

Henry Harris kicked at it, but the door didn’t budge. She waved her hand: “Get the tools and pick the lock! Little Lowell and Little Carter, check around for another entrance. Wild Monkey, climb up and see what’s going on from the roof!”

·

Outside was chaos, while inside the factory, the three people were still in a standoff.

The Vault was very calm. Even though her heart was pounding like a drum, her mind was as still as water. She looked at Zachary Campbell and said coldly, “You have no way out.”

“I really don’t have a way out, but I don’t need one.” Zachary Campbell sat down on an iron barrel by the wall, looking at her with a half-smile, tilting his head as he retorted, “But do you?”

The Vault flared her nostrils, sniffed, and caught a faint smell of smoke. She crouched down and looked toward the first floor, seeing a wisp of white smoke drifting from deep inside the factory.

This lunatic actually set the place on fire!

The Vault took a deep breath, but when she sat up, her face was as expressionless as ever.

Harry Forrest moved in small steps, approaching from the side, forming a triangular standoff among the three.

Zachary Campbell glanced at him, then looked away indifferently, as if he had no intention of resisting.

The Vault propped herself on the railing and sneered, “What, facing death and want to take someone with you? Don’t worry, you won’t be lonely after you die—there are plenty of people waiting for you below.”

Zachary Campbell paused, then said seriously, “I’ve never killed anyone.”

That one sentence enraged Harry Forrest. He suddenly looked up, a murderous aura about him, and said in a low voice, “You say you’ve never killed anyone?!”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” Zachary Campbell spread his hands, looking innocent. “My hands are clean.”

Harry Forrest gripped the knife tightly, his chest heaving, already picturing himself plunging the blade into Zachary Campbell’s throat.

Just one stab, and this hypocritical, vicious man would be silenced forever, and those who died unjustly might find some comfort. The clamor echoed in his ears, and Harry Forrest had to use all his reason to suppress the surging urge to kill.

The Vault sneered, “If you’re really so clean, why did you trap us here today?”

Zachary Campbell tilted his head back, speaking lifelessly: “Because I’m tired of this game.”

“A game? Heh…”

The Vault let out a short laugh, as if she’d heard something hilarious. The blood on her face, combined with her muffled laughter, made her seem almost wildly deranged. That madness only intensified the sarcasm in her eyes.

The Vault said, “Really? You were born with a defect, missing the most basic male physical trait, and spent your whole life in inferiority. You think you have the right to call this a game? Haven’t you just spent your whole life trying to hide your disability?”

Zachary Campbell’s gaze suddenly sharpened, stabbing toward The Vault.

“Are you playing others, or being played yourself?” The Vault laughed even harder. “Pervert, mother complex, starved for love. The woman you like doesn’t like you, the mother who cares about you was hurt by you, and the person you want to surpass has always overshadowed you. You’re despicable, base, and pathetic, yet you still pretend to be superior—just a deranged, petty clown. Face it, it’s not that you’re tired of the game, it’s that you can’t play anymore.”

At the mention of Ms. Steele, Zachary Campbell finally lost his composure a little. The muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched as he spat out, “You drove her to her death!”

“It was you.” The Vault lifted her chin and said, word by word, “You did all the bad things. All of Ms. Steele’s pain came from you. You never regret your own actions, so your mother had to face her own conscience.”

Zachary Campbell’s expression shifted rapidly, cycling through anger, anxiety, coldness, hatred—almost spitting fire. Then, as if remembering something, he froze with a malicious smile.

He asked, “Do you know how your mother died?”

The Vault felt as if her brain had been struck by a hammer. Her gaze deepened as she stared straight at him and said in a low voice, “You killed her. Ms. Steele told me.”

“No, she killed herself.” Zachary Campbell laughed heartily, drawing out his words, his eyes wandering as if recalling the past, waving his arms in the air. “I took her to a tall, deserted building. There was milk powder on her pants, her hair was a mess, she looked so wretched. Anyone could see she was crazy.”

The Vault’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed, feeling a slight sting in her throat.

She knew that day, when she’d stood on a stool to reach the milk powder, she’d dropped the can because she hadn’t held it steady.

Zachary Campbell giggled foolishly, then continued, “She said she wanted to see a doctor, begged me to let her out. She was so regretful, said she shouldn’t have hit you. Seeing her so pitiful, I gave her a suggestion. I said, ‘Around five o’clock every evening, a building manager comes to check the equipment and lock the doors, but he never goes to the rooftop. There’s a way for you to make sure he finds you. As long as your body is found, the police will go to your home to look for your child, and then your daughter can see a doctor.’”

Harry Forrest looked at The Vault in shock, but she kept her mask on—only her arms, hanging at her sides, betrayed her inner turmoil.

Like an hourglass, blood kept draining from her heart, leaving her chest feeling emptier and emptier.

“She was really stupid, so stupid. Hahaha—” Zachary Campbell mimed a flying and falling motion, then burst into manic laughter.

“To save you, she gave up thinking entirely. That’s the result of a woman’s stupidity. I watched her go hysterical, from sobbing to begging, and finally giving up, just sitting dazed at the edge of the rooftop. When the sun was about to set and the sky was all red, whoosh—”

Kevin Quinn still remembered she was a mother, putting The Vault above herself.

But she no longer loved life; the person she cared least about was herself.

Zachary Campbell kept watching The Vault’s expression, disappointed not to see any grief on her face.

The Vault said coldly, “So she’d rather die than be with you?”

Zachary Campbell’s smile froze instantly, a vicious light in his eyes.

“You gave her two choices, didn’t you? What, her unyielding refusal hurt your pride? She could go mad for a blind person, but wouldn’t give you the time of day. Just shows how disgusting you were to her.” The Vault shrugged. “Yeah, who else could love you but your mother? That’s why you have a mother complex. You’re pathetic.”