Chapter 92: Sometimes, Being a Psycho Is Pretty Good

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Sometimes, Being a Psycho Is Pretty Good

"Heh... You’re lucky you weren’t beaten to death. Voluntarily provoking an aggressive psychiatric patient—I’d say you have a death wish," the police officer scolded the other man.

The man was clearly terrified now and didn’t dare to yell anymore.

The assistant glanced at Sebastian Lancaster and spoke respectfully. "Young Master, we can go home now."

Sebastian Lancaster reached out and took my hand, whispering, "Cece... home."

I felt an inexplicable sense of frustration, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.

At the entrance, the little girl’s family had also arrived to pick her up. They looked well-off, which put my mind at ease.

"Big Sis, handsome guy, we’ll meet again!" The little girl waved before being pulled into a car. The man who came for her had a powerful presence and was quite good-looking.

"Thank you both for your help with this." The man was polite, a refined gentleman, and he thanked both Sebastian Lancaster and me.

"You’re welcome. It was nothing." I nodded with a faint, polite smile.

Sebastian Lancaster, however, watched the man warily, shielding me securely behind him.

The man glanced at Sebastian Lancaster, smiled, and said, "Well, I won’t keep you then."

Even long after the man had driven away, Sebastian Lancaster was still like a wolf protecting its cub.

I sighed and pulled him into the car.

On the way back, Sebastian Lancaster fell asleep. He was leaning against the car window, very still.

I watched Sebastian Lancaster, momentarily lost in thought. When he was quiet like this, he was truly a muse.

"Ma’am, I’m sorry you were frightened. The Young Master’s condition... is just like this. But as long as no one provokes him, he rarely has an episode," the assistant explained in a low voice.

I didn’t say anything. When we got home, I coaxed Sebastian Lancaster into taking some cold medicine and put him to bed. Only then did I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

"Assistant Foster, how long have you known Asher?" I asked, starting a conversation with him after leaving the room.

"I’ve known the Young Master since he was fourteen, when he was in the class for gifted students." That was the year the Lancaster Family found Sebastian Lancaster.

"What was he like back then...?" I was curious. ’How wonderful must he have been as a spirited teenager in his prime.’

"The Young Master was brilliant. He seemed to glow just by standing there." Assistant Foster’s voice was filled with emotion. "But... the great families are ruthless. Being too brilliant is a cardinal sin."

Assistant Foster was speaking in veiled terms.

I thought for a long time before tactfully asking, "When... was it discovered that he had mental health issues?"

"He was traumatized when he was nineteen." Assistant Foster led me to a small room in the attic. He pushed open the door to reveal a dusty room filled with things from Asher’s past.

There were photos, certificates of merit, trophies, and diplomas.

I stood there, stunned, staring at a room overflowing with certificates and trophies, speechless for a long time.

"Young Master Marcus Lancaster collected these. When he was alive, he truly loved the Young Master, but... his love was a restrained one." Assistant Foster explained each item to me. "This is from the Young Master’s first year in the class for gifted students."

I looked at the boy in the photo and was suddenly struck by a headache.

’So familiar...’

The boy in the picture had a bright smile and eyes as clear as water. Back then, Asher was truly pure and untainted.

Holding a trophy, he always stood out in a crowd, the most eye-catching one of all.

"A combined... bachelor’s and master’s program?" I looked at Sebastian Lancaster’s diploma, surprised for a moment, but then it seemed perfectly reasonable.

He was fast-tracked to university at thirteen or fourteen, so he would only have been nineteen or twenty by the time he finished a combined program.

But for Sebastian Lancaster to have minored in so many subjects and gotten straight A’s in all of them... that was just asking for people to be jealous.

"What’s this...?" In the farthest corner, I saw a large group photo, taken at the orphanage.

"That’s the group photo from the orphanage’s farewell party when the Young Master was accepted into the class for gifted students." Assistant Foster beamed with pride.

I could tell he seemed to see Asher as his own son.

I held the photo and studied it carefully. Although people’s appearances change a lot as they grow up, you can still tell if you look closely.

In the back row, in a corner, I saw Silvia Lynch’s class president.

It was Howard Finch, the one I’d run into at the class reunion.

In other words, before the Twin Star geniuses shocked all of Meridia, Howard Finch hadn’t been adopted yet.

"Did the Lancaster Family really only find Asher after he became famous overnight as a genius?" My voice was low. I could smell a conspiracy.

"No." Assistant Foster was very honest. "Actually, the Lancaster Family always knew of the Young Master’s existence. But the Old Master never gave the nod, so no one dared bring him back. It was only after the Young Master’s reputation as a genius spread and caused a sensation throughout Meridia that the Old Master had us go and formally acknowledge him, to have him return to the family."

I scoffed. Even the great families were like this—drawn to profit and averse to trouble.

’That’s human nature for you.’

"You haven’t thrown out these old clothes?" On a hanger, I saw the ill-fitting, faded clothes that Asher had worn when he was homeless.

’The Lancaster Family brought him home, cleaned him up, and locked him in a room, but they didn’t throw out his dirty clothes?’

"The Young Master cherishes this outfit. He doesn’t let anyone touch it." Assistant Foster raised a hand to stop me from touching it.

I was curious why Asher would cherish this set of faded, ill-fitting clothes.

"Have you seen this person before?" My thoughts returned to the photo. I pointed to a boy standing with Asher, hiding slightly behind him with a timid gaze.

"That’s Charlie. He was the other star of the Twin Star Orphanage, one of the two ’twin geniuses’ who shocked Meridia back then." Assistant Foster looked at the photo and sighed with regret. "Unfortunately, he died in the orphanage fire that year. Originally, the Young Master..."

Assistant Foster trailed off before continuing, "...was supposed to die in there too, but he miraculously survived."

I was stunned for a long time. "That fire... was it an accident?"

"It was arson," Assistant Foster’s tone was firm.

"Then the arsonist..." I pressed, feeling a sense of urgency.

"The culprit was never found. The investigation techniques weren’t as advanced back then. There was no surveillance footage of where the fire started, and everyone denied setting it, so..." Assistant Foster shook his head.

I could tell there were many more details he wasn’t telling me. Since he didn’t elaborate, I didn’t press further.

After all, Assistant Foster wasn’t an eyewitness to the event.

My gaze fell on the class president, Howard Finch, again. ’He... he must know what really happened in the fire back then.’

’And that deranged murderer... why would he keep killing people from the orphanage?’

’From the looks of it, he has no intention of sparing anyone in this photo.’

"Can I take this photo?" I asked quietly.

"These were all preserved by Mr. Marcus Lancaster. If you need one, I can have a copy made for you."

I nodded.

The girls in red dresses in the photo were all dead, except for Erin Whittaker.

And now, the killer was targeting the ones who were left.

"Is this the orphanage director?" I asked, pointing to a middle-aged woman seated in the very center.

"She and her husband ran the orphanage," Assistant Foster nodded.

I looked at the middle-aged woman, then at the middle-aged man next to her, and felt a sudden chill.

The two of them had such benevolent smiles, but why did I feel a chill run down my spine?

"Are they still alive?" I asked curiously.

"They are," Assistant Foster confirmed. "The person who died a while ago was their daughter."

I looked up at Assistant Foster in astonishment.

The one who died... was their daughter.

It seemed this brutal, inhumane string of murders was truly an act of revenge.

’These people must have something in common. They must have all done something to the killer.’

"Cece..."

"Cece!"

Suddenly, Asher’s panicked shouts came from outside the door. He sounded like he was having a nightmare, his voice an uncontrolled, desolate cry.

A sharp pain lanced through my heart, and I ran out in alarm.

I saw Asher standing by the window, frantic and lost. Bloody footprints from his reopened wounds stained the floor. His pale, beautiful face was also covered in blood, with a droplet tracing a path down his prominent Adam’s apple.

His hands were covered in blood. The moment he saw me, he panicked like a child who’d done something wrong and hid them behind his back.

Assistant Foster’s expression changed, and he ran out in a panic. "Doctor! Call the doctor!"

’Clearly... the Lancaster Family has been hiding far too much about Asher’s condition from me.’

’His state right now was obviously not normal.’