Everyone Can Hear My Thoughts, and Now They're Panicking

Alvin Lancaster looked up. "Rabies?"

His heart hammered violently in his chest, and he couldn’t help but tighten his grip on the golf club in his hand.

If that was the case, then everything made sense.

"Why would Prince have contracted rabies?" he asked, forcing his voice to sound calm.

Jean Hughes rested a hand on his shoulder. "Didn’t you tell your father? That you personally heard someone say they were going to inject Prince with serum from a rabid dog?"

"You also said they wanted to use you as an experiment—to see if the rabies virus was really as terrifying as people say, if it was truly incurable once symptoms appeared..."

Alvin Lancaster’s scalp tingled. ’So this was the truth!’

’So this is what my sister meant in her thoughts? That this confirms her side of the story?’

’So, she was the one who told Father? But why would Father claim I was the one who said it?’

’Could it be that because this was so serious, Father pinned it all on me to protect my sister?’

"And then? Did you investigate? Did you test Prince’s body for the rabies virus?" Alvin Lancaster asked, steeling himself.

Jean Hughes looked at him and suddenly smiled before leaning back. He sat up straight and began to slowly, methodically wipe his hands.

"Of course not. Didn’t your father tell you off for lying?"

Alvin Lancaster froze for a moment. ’How could Father scold his sister for lying? Didn’t he trust her more than anyone? So her story wasn’t believed back then? Why?’

He felt like his brain was grinding to a halt. When he looked up, he saw Jean Hughes, partially hidden in the darkness, staring at him with a strange look in his eyes.

In that instant, his heart nearly skipped a beat. For some reason, Alvin Lancaster felt a chill run down his spine.

It was a deep, bone-deep wariness of this person, a fear that reached its absolute limit.

Alvin Lancaster glanced at the driver in the front seat. ’Good, this is Ronald Hughes’s driver.’

"Never mind that. Just tell me, did they run the tests or not?" he asked, mustering his courage.

Jean Hughes smiled. "Of course not. The Jenson Family disposed of Prince’s body, so there was no way to verify your story."

The driver slammed on the brakes. "We’re here."

Jean Hughes looked out the window. Realizing where they were, his expression darkened slightly.

"You wait here and keep watch. The two of us are going to see what’s happening," Jean Hughes instructed the driver after getting out of the car.

The driver seemed startled but didn’t dare question him and stayed behind.

Carrying the golf club, Alvin Lancaster hurried down the park path. He had to get to his sister’s side as quickly as possible.

"Alvin Lancaster." Jean Hughes’s voice was right at his ear.

Alvin Lancaster jumped, looking at him nervously. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Do you still want to see those photos or videos?"

’This guy is insane,’ Alvin thought. ’Who looks at photos and videos at a time like this?’ But in the next second, Jean Hughes had pulled up a video and held it in front of his face.

His eyes were drawn to it against his will. And then he saw it: a small puppy, one that looked a lot like Prince, being dismembered piece by piece by the man before him.

Alvin Lancaster felt his breath catch in his throat, and his head throbbed as if it were about to split open.

A bizarre smile played on Jean Hughes’s lips. "See? Wouldn’t you say my technique has improved a lot since back then?"

In a flash, it all came back to Alvin Lancaster. Everything.

He remembered running away in a panic, somehow stumbling into a small building in the park. And then he saw Jean Hughes... killing a dog.

The usually gentle and refined Young Master Hughes was now cruel and brutal, blood splashing everywhere accompanied by piercing screams.

Then he was discovered. The other man chased after him, holding a knife.

He had been so terrified he’d sprinted wildly until he reached the road, where he tripped, fell, and passed out.

Overcome with terror, Alvin Lancaster’s voice trembled. "You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?"

He looked at his surroundings. There were many forks in the path here; he had unknowingly been led to a secluded spot.

Jean Hughes looked regretful. "I just wanted to conduct an experiment, that’s all. To see if the rabies virus was really as terrible as they say."

"I wasn’t meticulous enough back then. I talked two idiots with loose lips into doing it, but I never expected you’d overhear their private conversation, causing the plan to fall through."

He paused, then said with a smile, "But my plan wasn’t a total failure. At least Prince had already shown symptoms of rabies, hadn’t he?"

Alvin Lancaster felt a chill run through him. How could someone speak so casually of killing as if it were just an experiment?

"So you’re the one who killed Prince!" he snarled, staring daggers at him.

Jean Hughes replied, "It was just an animal. It deserved to die the moment it turned disloyal. Of course, you’re just like it—no one loves you. Do you think your father didn’t know something was fishy? But he used it as a bargaining chip in his negotiations with the Hughes Family and actively covered it up."

"You must have known for a while now. He doesn’t care about your life at all."

Alvin’s head was splitting. ’No, no, no...’ While he was disappointed in his father’s actions, he wasn’t entirely surprised.

What truly devastated him was the realization that his sister had been protecting him all along, yet he had always resented her for being too domineering—for forcing their old playmates to either flee the country or go bankrupt.

Jean Hughes continued, "Are you fond of Reggie? Let me tell you, the real Reggie died months ago. I hacked him to pieces. Want to see?"

Alvin Lancaster tightened his grip on the golf club and began to swing it wildly. "You demon! You psycho! You’re the one who should die!"

Jean Hughes made no move to dodge, the smile on his face growing ever more twisted.

"Do you want to avenge Prince and Reggie? Go on. Kill me."

Alvin Lancaster screamed, bringing the club down hard on the other man’s head. Blood instantly began to flow.

—

Jane Lancaster’s mood was unsettled, perhaps because the night breeze was too gentle.

’If one wasn’t backed into a corner, who would choose to be so merciless?’

In her memory, the little girl’s hand trembled as she held the knife, but she knew the dog was undoubtedly sick. If it wasn’t dealt with immediately, the consequences would be unthinkable.

A vaccine isn’t a 100% guarantee, and if the wound is too large or the viral load too high, no amount of immunoglobulin will help.

She had read case studies in books where victims developed symptoms very quickly for that exact reason.

Full of hope, she had told her father what she’d heard and waited for him to bring back good news. But when he next entered her room, it was to tell her that there was nothing wrong with the dog.

The little girl was undoubtedly clever. She sharply perceived that her father was lying.

The dog was already dead, its body likely disposed of. With no evidence left, it was useless for her to argue, no matter how hysterically.

’If this was just a trade of interests, then she had to secure the best possible terms for her side.’

"So, that’s why you wanted Jim Jenson to get the hell out of the country?" Jasper Sterling paused. "Right, and back then, a few of Jim Jenson’s lackeys were also driven to the brink of bankruptcy by the Lancaster Family..."

At the time, many people criticized Timothy Lancaster, thinking he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

Of course, even more people thought Jane Lancaster was spoiled and arrogant, that to be so utterly ruthless toward those few people at such a young age was simply too vicious.

Jane Lancaster replied, "The Jenson and Hughes families simply abandoned those people’s families."

At least during that period, the little girl, relying on her so-called ’favored’ status, successfully took care of all her bullies.

Even Henry Hughes was sent away to a strict boarding school, losing any opportunity to get near Alvin Lancaster.