The Vault put down the milk tea and asked casually, “Victor West, right? Do you know Laura Lowell?”

Victor West lowered his head and didn’t answer.

He knew that the police were highly skilled at interrogation, using the suspect’s tense mental state to set traps without them realizing it.

He wasn’t rational enough at the moment and couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t accidentally reveal clues, so he simply chose to avoid responding.

The Vault lifted her eyelids to glance at him and continued questioning, “Where were you on the night of September 21st?”

Victor West had already decided to remain silent and unresponsive. Even his sitting posture didn’t change in the face of her questions.

The Vault raised her eyebrows in surprise.

The formal questioning hadn’t even started, and the usual small talk was already going nowhere. Victor West might as well have written “I am the murderer” clearly on his face.

The Vault threw a photo in front of him with a harsh tone: “On the day Laura Lowell died, you were following her the whole time. Why were you stalking her?”

“When Laura Lowell died, you were nearby. What were you doing there?”

“Aren’t you going to explain? Do you think you won’t say anything wrong if you don’t explain?”

“Cat got your tongue? Or is it that you can’t refute me, so you’re just admitting it by default?”

“……”

Only The Vault’s voice echoed in the interrogation room. No matter what she said—whether it was to induce or provoke—Victor West remained silent.

The interrogation turned into a one-woman show.

After talking for a while, The Vault gradually lost interest, coughed, and nodded, “Fine, then I’ll analyze what happened on the day of the murder for you again.”

She recounted, in chronological order, how Victor West had tailed, hidden, killed, and fled.

“Where did you throw your clothes and shoes? They must have been stained with Laura Lowell’s blood, right? Was it scary, your first time killing someone?”

At these words, Victor West only twitched his eyelids. His muscles had grown stiff from holding the same position for so long, making his movements unnatural. He shifted slightly but still said nothing.

By the time The Vault finished, Victor West had realized something. The police kept going off on tangents, which meant they didn’t have concrete evidence. He was safe.

Once he figured this out, Victor West relaxed a little. He shrugged his shoulders and let out a quiet breath.

The Vault noticed his small movement and let out a couple of sarcastic chuckles.

Julian Grant handed her the milk tea at just the right moment, a bit obsequiously, “Have some water, calm down.”

·

Ms. Grant looked at the barrage of comments scrolling across the livestream and decisively blocked the bullet chat.

She was personally very satisfied with Julian Grant’s performance, to the point that even the grapes she was eating tasted sweeter.

While others were playing games, her son was seriously pursuing a relationship. What is this? This is the charm of a real man.

In her happiness, she couldn’t help but want to spend money—diamond watches, jewelry, necklaces… Of course, none of that was as meaningful as tipping the representative of their family’s intelligence.

So, just as the netizens were enthusiastically showing the Trident admin their own “simp” potential, they were suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of tip notifications.

All the tips bore the same ID: Rich Grant, so, so rich.

Who cares how rich you are? On Trident’s turf, which Grant dares to claim they’re especially rich? The ceiling is still up there holding everyone down.

The netizens’ first reaction was annoyance at the ID, thinking it was blocking their chance to shine. But as the ID’s messages kept pouring in like a waterfall, seemingly endless, their attitude shifted from silence to wavering, and in less than five minutes, they completely switched sides. A bunch of shameless people started wailing and calling “daddy,” begging to be recognized as the long-lost child.

How careless of them.

They had overestimated themselves.

So this is the power of money!

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The blocked memories are only the content related to the case that 【the future】 discovered; excluding the influence of the prophet, the scope isn’t large. Harry Forrest giving the pen happened before the murder, so it couldn’t have been blocked. Also, Nancy Dawson is actually played by Harry Forrest himself.

The next chapter will wrap up this arc. I’ll finish it tonight. Mwah~

Extra: Harry Forrest 06

The Vault flipped through the notebook in front of her, occasionally glancing up at Victor West.

The standoff had already lasted more than two hours.

As time went on, Victor West couldn’t help but show a hint of joy on his face. His hands rested on the table, fingers interlacing and fidgeting, waiting for the moment he could walk out of the police station.

It was almost time. These people had no evidence; at most, they could only detain him for twenty-four hours.

Victor West licked his lips. The long period of anxiety had left his mouth dry.

The Vault took the initiative to ask, “Want some water?”

Victor West stretched his neck, avoiding The Vault’s gaze.

The Vault smiled indifferently, “Do you think I’m fighting a battle of wills with you? No, I’m just bored, watching you, and waiting for someone.”

Victor West didn’t respond, kneading his own shoulder.

Not long after, The Vault’s phone rang. The vibration was especially jarring in the quiet room, making Victor West’s already taut nerves tremble slightly.

The Vault saw who was calling, gave Victor West a meaningful look, and, without avoiding him, put the call on speaker.

A deep male voice came from the other end, the background very quiet, probably in a deserted corner.

“Captain, we found Laura Lowell’s workstation and went through the materials and articles she left on her desk. After comparing them with the company’s manager, we found some discrepancies. So we had the tech team check Laura Lowell’s computer usage records and discovered that on the morning of September 22nd, several files were deleted from her computer, and the traces were altered.”

While the report was being given, The Vault kept her eyes fixed on Victor West, her expression half-smiling.

When Victor West heard something related to himself, his breathing grew heavier, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t let himself show any obvious reaction.

He kept repeating “no evidence” in his mind to maintain his composure.

The young man continued, “Also, their editor-in-chief said that some time ago, Laura Lowell had hinted to him that Victor West was taking bribes and writing fake articles for others. Since there was no evidence and it would reflect badly on the company, the editor-in-chief talked to Victor West and handled it quietly. As for whether Laura Lowell kept investigating and offended Victor West, he couldn’t be sure.”

The Vault rested her hands under her chin, speaking with interest, “Did you hear that?”

Victor West zoned out for a moment, only noticing her presence again when she spoke, his lashes drooping, unresponsive like a corpse.

The Vault hung up the phone, but didn’t take the opportunity to press Victor West with aggressive questions. She swiped her finger across the screen a few times, then selected a number and dialed.

A very dated, cheesy ringtone echoed in the air, torturously ringing twice before finally stopping.

“Hello, Captain?”

The Vault asked, “How’s it going on your end?”

“Oh! We’ve got something, was just about to tell you.” The young man replied energetically, “Thomas Daniels has already admitted it—he gave false testimony. He was dead drunk that night and did show up on the street, but actually didn’t see anything. Michael Wood is still resisting, saying he must have mistaken someone. There’s also a woman who keeps using her child’s illness as an excuse, dodging our questions and refusing to cooperate. At this point, it looks like the three of them are colluding. We’re preparing to apply to check their communication records to see if they have any common contacts.”

The Vault replied succinctly, “Okay, got it.”

Victor West was a bit anxious. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

The Vault smiled at him, “Do you think you did everything perfectly and can get away with it? Unfortunately, as long as you did it, you’ll leave traces. The more careless the place, the more likely you are to expose yourself.”

She spoke patiently, as if toying with prey in her hands, passing the time in her boring life: “Guess who I’ll call next?”

Victor West tilted his head back, showing he didn’t care.

The Vault smiled, crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair, and spoke arrogantly, “Actually, you left a huge loophole—or rather, you don’t know enough about Harmony Yard Complex, so you made a big mistake.”

“That day, you killed Laura Lowell, took her notebook and voice recorder, and found a place to destroy them. You thought those two things were the last pieces of evidence. As long as you made sure to get rid of the murder weapon, clothes, and voice recorder, no one could prove you were the killer that day. Plus, you had three accomplices to help divert the police’s attention, so you felt safe… Now, try to guess—where exactly did you make a mistake in this process?”

Victor West’s gaze flickered. Although he didn’t respond directly to The Vault, from the details, it was clear he was really thinking about the question.