"But why? Is it really possible to earn such a generous reward just by attending a few classes? Where could you even find such a good gig?"

Laura Lowell, though still young, is definitely not naive. She has been working as a journalist for some time now—steady in her work, measured in her actions, and not the type to suddenly act on impulse and throw money around. This is one of the main reasons they remain skeptical no matter what.

For adults, seven thousand yuan might not be that tempting, but for students, it's still a very attractive sum.

For minors, especially those in their sensitive teenage years, committing a crime for seven thousand yuan is a very reasonable assumption.

"Laura Lowell is a journalist, and a well-known one at that. She has exposed many social hot topics. Could it be that Nancy Dawson is one of her informants?"

"I think the money-making part is probably true, but the way to earn it might not be as simple as Nancy Dawson says. He could be hiding some details."

"Why would he still hide things at a time like this? Is he not afraid for his life?"

The Vault listened quietly to their discussion, picked up the water cup from the table, and took a sip. The cold liquid slid down her throat, but virtual data couldn't really quench her thirst.

"Is it possible that this happened? The two did agree to meet, and Laura Lowell agreed to pay seven thousand yuan, but during their conversation, a conflict broke out, and in the end, Nancy Dawson accidentally killed her?"

"I think your hypothesis is more reasonable. According to Nancy Dawson's statement, after meeting Laura Lowell, he just took the money and left without saying a word. Because there was too much rainwater on the ground, he stopped under an eave for more than ten minutes on the way. As for Laura Lowell, she stayed at the original spot alone and was killed by the murderer not long after."

The sound of rustling paper echoed.

"Another witness in the neighborhood said... he saw the murderer fleeing the alley in a panic at around 9:30. Based on the distance from the crime scene, Laura Lowell was killed by the murderer within five minutes after Nancy Dawson left. This timing is awkward and very unfavorable for Nancy Dawson."

"At 9:45, Nancy Dawson appeared again at the camera shop and bought that second-hand camera. Running from the place where he was found, he could just make it to the shop within the corresponding time. It's too much of a coincidence."

"According to the call records we obtained from the telecom company, that night, Laura Lowell was only in contact with Nancy Dawson."

"So..."

After everyone finished speaking, they looked up at each other, their eyes all expressing the same opinion, reaching a consensus in silence.

The more they analyzed, the more they felt that the murderer was Nancy Dawson.

Suddenly, The Vault's voice rang out, drawing everyone's attention.

"Nancy Dawson is very familiar with this place. He's been here several times."

Everyone was puzzled. "Really?"

The Vault nodded toward Julian Grant, who understood and pulled up the map of Harmony Yard Complex on the computer, projecting it onto the white screen at the front.

The Vault got up, propped one hand on the table, held the mouse with the other, half leaning against Julian Grant, and located the crime scene and several witness points on the screen, then connected them with a red line, slowly tracing the path toward the camera shop where Harry Forrest was last seen.

"Nancy Dawson has not been to this place for the first time. He should know very well how to run, where to run, to effectively avoid crowds and quickly leave Harmony Yard Complex. But instead, he took a detour, went deeper into the residential area, and then returned to the camera shop from the direction near the street, resulting in four extra witnesses who could testify against him along the way."

The Vault switched to a green line and re-marked the route on the map.

With this comparison, it seemed the murderer had run in the wrong direction from the start, making the subsequent route winding and complicated.

"But—" a young man sitting below called out, pointing at the map, "Captain, the route you drew here isn't passable."

The Vault turned and walked slowly toward the window. "Although the map doesn't show a clear road, you can actually get through. There's only a wall in the middle, less than two meters high. With Nancy Dawson's height and agility, climbing over it would be easy."

Julian Grant zoomed in on the map and played a real-life video of the scene.

It was exactly as The Vault described.

A police officer hesitated, "Maybe he didn't know?"

The Vault stopped in front of the glass window and pulled the curtains open on both sides, instantly brightening the room.

"Whether he knew or not, you have to test it to draw a conclusion."

·

Harry Forrest's room welcomed two police officers again.

The young officer handed him a pen and a blank sheet of paper, along with a simple instruction: "Draw the layout of Harmony Yard Complex."

Harry Forrest looked confused, subconsciously picked up the pen but didn't move, and looked up to ask, "And then?"

The officer emphasized, squinting his eyes, "The more detailed, the better. Draw all the details you know. Understand?"

Harry Forrest studied him for a moment, unable to read anything from his face, then lowered his head and began sketching on the paper.

He worked quickly and steadily, his lines almost never wavering, as straight as if drawn with a ruler. Such a person is either professionally trained or naturally gifted.

Since the officer asked for detail, Harry Forrest even sketched the structure of the houses on both sides. A few minutes later, he looked up and said blandly, "There's not enough space."

The young officer stood beside him, dumbfounded, and only snapped out of it after Harry Forrest called him twice.

He took the paper, folded it, and said awkwardly, "You don't have to be that detailed. Just a sketch, draw the roads of Harmony Yard Complex like on a map app, okay? The main thing is not to miss any details. Details!"

Harry Forrest's gaze grew a bit complicated. If the other party weren't a police officer and he weren't a suspect, he might have just called the young man an idiot to his face.

The officer cleared his throat. "Alright, I'll get you another sheet."

Another blank sheet, placed on Harry Forrest's desk.

After receiving it, Harry Forrest measured the length with his knuckles. He spent about a minute confirming the general area and proportions, then began drawing smoothly with the red pen.

The pens provided by the police are specially made, with only a small tip exposed, making them impossible for self-harm and not very comfortable to use.

But Harry Forrest handled it with great skill, constantly rotating the paper and drawing from unusual angles, as if he had sketched it hundreds of times before, quickly outlining the layout.

In less than half an hour, he finished a highly detailed sketch.

"Holy crap..."

The young officer couldn't help but curse.

He held the paper in one hand and opened the map app with the other, his eyes darting back and forth. His colleague beside him did the same. The two of them vividly demonstrated what it means to be "in disbelief" with their expressions.

After holding it in for a long time, the young officer finally blurted out, "Do you spend all your free time drawing maps for fun?"

Harry Forrest shot him a sidelong glance and replied, not very enthusiastically, "No."

The lengths, turns, and angles of the lines were practically identical to the real thing. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, the young officer would never have believed this was drawn by an ordinary high school student with no professional training.

And the small path not marked on the map app was clearly indicated in Harry Forrest's drawing, with two horizontal lines in the middle representing the wall, proving he had indeed been there.

The young officer recalled his investigation into Nancy Dawson and asked for confirmation, "Your grades are just average, right?"

Harry Forrest frowned slightly. "So what?"

"Nothing, nothing." The young man sighed with feeling, "Just thinking that exam-oriented education... really isn't perfect."

Harry Forrest realized he had just been complimented in a roundabout way, and for a moment, his feelings were complicated.

The other officers had already watched the whole process on the surveillance screen. Although they hadn't seen the result in detail, they could guess from their colleague's reaction.

The Vault, with one hand in her pocket, still wore a calm and composed expression, looking especially inscrutable, as if nothing could shake her.

She spoke slowly, "If you still have doubts, you can have him draw the map of the station, have him draw everywhere he went today."

Several people quickly replied, "No need."

The Vault nodded, her expression unchanged. "Nancy Dawson has an exceptional ability for spatial imagination and is highly sensitive to three-dimensional data like distance and direction. Making a wrong turn is simply impossible for him. Perhaps that's something the real murderer didn't expect."

"What about if he was in a state of panic?"