Chapter 17 — From Collapse to Brilliance: I Don't Need You

After learning that evidence of the edited photo had been discovered - information that she overheard from Đình Vũ, who had vaguely heard from Thảo My about Nhật Lam asking about the old story in an unusual way - Trịnh Ý Nhi understood that the protection network she had worked so hard to build was starting to have dangerous cracks. She didn't know exactly how much Diệu Kỳ had discovered, but her survival instincts told her that it was time to act more decisively, before things got out of control.

Ý Nhi also knows that Diệu Kỳ's research project has entered a new phase - after successfully completing pre-clinical tests on animal models, the project was approved by the research ethics board to begin the first phase of safety testing on a small group of volunteers. This is an important turning point, and at the same time the most sensitive time — any mistake during this stage, no matter how small, can cause serious consequences for human health, and entail heavy legal liability for those involved.

This is the opportunity that Ý Nhi has been waiting for. If last time she was only able to create a fake document — something that could be easily dismissed thanks to Diệu Kỳ's logging system — then this time, she decided to act more thoroughly, leaving an undeniable trail, a consequence serious enough that no one could doubt the veracity of the accusation.

She began by approaching a new intern at the Dawn Institute, who had just been assigned to provide administrative support for a research project, through a long-distance acquaintance from a shared academic club. Under the guise of concern and enthusiasm, Ý Nhi skillfully inquired about the system's security procedures, about who had access to the sample storage area and the volunteers' dosage records.

Through many seemingly accidental conversations, she learned that, on weekends, when most employees are off, the security system of the record storage area is often operated with minimal supervision, with only a few staff on duty. She also learned, through remote observation of the research team's public social media posts, that one upcoming weekend, Diệu Kỳ would be attending a scientific conference in another city, away from campus — an event publicly invited to attend by students that Bách Sơn himself had posted a notice encouraging the group to attend.

This was the perfect time. If any problems occurred with the volunteer's dosage records that very weekend, while Diệu Kỳ was far away, with all the witnesses confirming her absence, then in terms of common logic, no one could think that it was she who directly intervened. But that's exactly what Ý Nhi wanted to exploit — she wouldn't need to be personally present at the scene to cause the incident, just create enough digital evidence that Diệu Kỳ's account was used to make the change, regardless of where she was at the time.

Using the self-taught knowledge of information technology over the past several months, along with some technical information she obtained from the intern under the guise of "curiosity to learn", Ý Nhi tried to create a fake access account, disguised to look exactly like the valid login interface of the project data management system. She sent an email, disguised as a routine system maintenance notice from the institute's information technology department, to the email address of a weekend employee — who had physical access to the sample storage room — asking him to reconfirm his credentials to "synchronize the new security system."

The on-duty officer, not at all suspicious of an official-looking email, accidentally provided his login information to the fake link that Ý Nhi had set up. With that stolen access, on Saturday night, when Diệu Kỳ was hundreds of kilometers away at a scientific conference, Ý Nhi logged into the system from a public internet cafe, silently edited a dosage parameter in the tracking record of a volunteer participating in a safety trial, and left a delicately disguised access trace, pointing towards Diệu Kỳ's account through a network address spoofing vulnerability that she had diligently researched. save.

The next Sunday morning, that volunteer - a middle-aged man who participated in the trial because he wanted early access to a new treatment for his rare genetic disease - had a serious abnormal reaction and had to be rushed to the emergency room. The medical team supervising the test immediately raised an alarm and suspended the entire testing process to investigate the cause.

When the technical team reviewed the records, they discovered that the dosage parameters had been changed compared to the original regimen, and the system access traces, although not completely clear, had many suspicious similarities with Tôn Diệu Kỳ's account.

This news spread like an earthquake within the Dawn Institute. Professor Lương Vĩnh Đạt, director, immediately convened an emergency meeting with the entire project leadership, with the participation of Mr. Thái Bình Nguyên from the inspection department. This is no longer a simple slander suspicion like last time — this time, there has been a truly serious consequence to human health, and the nature of the incident has gone beyond the scope of normal academic discipline, approaching the boundary of criminal liability.

Bách Sơn, upon receiving the news, immediately called Diệu Kỳ, his voice trembling with both worry and anger. "Diệu Kỳ, you must return immediately. Something serious has happened."

Diệu Kỳ, in the middle of a scientific conference in a strange city, felt a familiar chill spread throughout his body when he heard what Bách Sơn recounted over the phone. This was exactly the nightmare she had feared the most — a truly dire consequence, a volunteer being harmed, and all the digital evidence pointing towards her, exactly like what had happened in her previous life.

"I'll be home soon," she said, her voice trying to stay calm even though her heart was racing. "But you have to believe me, I was nowhere near the system at that time. I can prove I was here, at this conference, all weekend long."

"I believe you," Bách Sơn replied, his voice determined without any hesitation. "But the inspection department and the entire volunteer family are very angry. They need a clear explanation, and quickly. You need to mentally prepare, because this situation is much more serious than the last time."

Diệu Kỳ hung up the phone and stood silently in the middle of the hotel hallway, clutching the phone tightly. She closed her eyes, trying to calmly organize her thoughts. This is the decisive moment — if she cannot convincingly prove her innocence, she will face the exact scenario that claimed her life in her previous life: criminal charges, expulsion, and a spiral of destruction with no way out.

But this time, she reminded herself, she was not alone, and most importantly, she was prepared. She opened her phone and immediately began contacting the conference organizers to officially confirm her presence throughout the weekend, and at the same time called Nhật Lam to inform her about the emergency situation, asking her friend to pay attention and monitor any unusual moves from Ý Nhi's side in the coming days.

That night, on the car ride back, Diệu Kỳ looked out the dark window, the streetlights passing by like dim streaks of light. She knew that the real war, the war that would decide her destiny, had only officially begun.

She grabbed her phone, reopened the parallel electronic diary she maintained alongside her handwritten notebook, and reviewed her entire schedule over the past weekend—every meal, every discussion, every photo taken with conference attendees, all with clear timestamps and locations, automatically stored on her phone. This was a habit she had developed over the past several months, not out of vague fear, but because she had learned, from the pain of her past life, that a solid alibi was sometimes the only thing standing between an innocent person and a harsh verdict.

She closed her phone, leaned her head back on the seat, closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep before the bus arrived at the station. But sleep did not come. In her mind, the image of the strange volunteer lying on the hospital bed kept appearing, making her heart ache with an unnamed regret - even though she knew she was not the one who caused this, she still felt responsible for quickly finding the truth, not only to exonerate herself, but also to ensure justice for the person who had accidentally become a victim of Ý Nhi's cruel plot.