Chapter 3When the True Heir Obeyed, the Whole Family Regretted It

Squelch.

Blood sprayed across my father’s face. The room erupted in screams. My mother clutched her chest, nearly fainting. Scarlett bolted out of the room, shouting for a doctor.

When I woke up again, my neck was also wrapped in gauze. The doctor said I was lucky; the scissors had just nicked the artery wall.

I hadn’t managed to die. Again.

My parents and Scarlett stood by my bed, their expressions a complicated mix of anger and fear. They wanted to scold me, but they were afraid of setting me off again.

Cody ran in, sobbing. “Mom, Dad, Scarlett… someone posted a video of brother running into the truck online. Now everyone is attacking me!”

The three of them snatched his phone, their faces growing darker as they read.

HEIR OF THE BATES FORTUNE DRIVEN TO SUICIDE BY IMPOSTER BROTHER!

The comment section was a firestorm, with users calling Cody a manipulative monster. Some mocked my parents for being foolish enough to favor an adopted son with no blood relation.

“These damn reporters!” Scarlett’s fingers flew across the screen. “I’ll clear your name. This has nothing to do with you!”

My father stopped her, his face stern as he looked at me. “Evan, why don’t you make a statement yourself? Cody is innocent. You had a psychotic episode. It wasn’t his fault.”

A sharp pain lanced through my heart, but I remembered the System’s words. I had to obey. If I didn’t, I would never save my mom. I would never go home.

So, I smiled and nodded. “Of course, Dad. My phone was taken away, so just tell me what to say. I’ll say it to the camera.”

They paused, only then seeming to remember my phone had been confiscated a year ago.

On my first day in that place, I fought back against the orderlies who tried to abuse me. They electrocuted me until I collapsed, then beat me with clubs and whips for two days straight. I was given half a moldy bun for each meal and forced to drink slop water when I was thirsty. One night, I managed to steal a phone from a drunken guard and called Scarlett.

Her response was a cold sneer. “Evan, it’s only been a few days and you’ve already learned how to lie?”

“The doctors there were hand-picked by us. They are professionals. Why would they abuse you?”

“Just behave and get the treatment you need. Fix yourself.”

I cried, I begged her to get me out. But then I heard Cody’s voice in the background. “It’s all my fault brother is sick. I took his place for so many years, he has every right to hate me!”

“Just let me leave the family. Bring him home! He won’t hurt anyone but me…”

My parents started shouting, ordering Scarlett to hang up. “Don’t you see you’re upsetting Cody? Hang up now! And tell them to tighten their watch on him! No more phone calls!”

The line went dead.

After that, for stealing the phone, I was subjected to even more unspeakable torture. Even without the physical pain, the memory of their leering, monstrous faces left me with deep psychological scars.

As if worried I’d pull another stunt, Scarlett simply aimed the phone’s camera at my face. “I’ll type out what you need to say. Just read it.”

I nodded and did as I was told.

The video statement worked. The online outrage died down. But some sharp-eyed users noticed something was off.

Why is he wearing a scarf in the middle of summer? Is he injured again?

Luckily, I was in the Bates Corporation’s private hospital. News of my second suicide attempt didn’t leak. My parents pulled some strings, and the public furor eventually faded.

For the month I was hospitalized, I was perfectly quiet and obedient. They were pleased with my behavior and decided to take me home.

At the front gate of the villa, Cody, dressed in a tailored suit and holding a bouquet of flowers, greeted me. “Welcome home, brother!”

He bent down to hug me, then whispered in my ear, “You little bastard. I have plenty of ways to send you right back to that asylum.”

Before I could respond, he let out a sharp cry and threw himself backward. His head hit the edge of a stone step with a sickening crack, and blood immediately started to gush.

“Brother, why did you push me? I knew you still hated me…” he sobbed, his voice choked with grief. Blood streamed down his neck, staining the collar of his light-blue suit.

“Evan! I knew you were faking it! You’re just as vicious as ever!” Scarlett rushed over, kicked my wheelchair aside, and cradled Cody in her arms.

My father slapped me hard across the face. “You worthless thing! Apologize to your brother!”

The blow knocked my head to the side. I saw a smooth, grey stone on the path.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

I picked up the stone and smashed it against my own head. A hot stream of liquid ran down my face.

My family stared in horror. My mother screamed, lunged forward, and snatched the rock from my hand. “You foolish child, what are you doing?! Someone call the doctor!”