Chapter 282: The One Who Viciously Tried to Kill Him Was Not Jane Lancaster

Sean Grant didn’t want to take a detour, so he chose the nearest shortcut.

This path ran behind the office park. Head-high shrubs separated it from the building behind, and because of a nearby trash station, few people ever walked this way, even during the day. At night, it was completely deserted.

Still, this was a high-end complex, so the trash station was clean and tidy, with more shrubs planted to block the view and downplay its presence.

Another dozen or so meters ahead, a turn would lead to the clubhouse’s back door.

Sean Grant caught a faint flicker of movement from around the corner and smiled.

He didn’t think Jane Lancaster would dare to make a move on him. If this really was an ambush, she was in for a disappointment.

In the face of overwhelming power, all tricks were useless.

He walked forward without hesitation. It wasn’t until he heard a rustling sound from above that he realized the ambush was on the roof of the trash station.

A burlap sack dropped from the sky, covering his head. Immediately, his shoulders were seized, caught by a rapidly descending force.

His reaction was fast enough to grab an arm, but his attacker didn’t try to escape. Instead, they deliberately crashed into his chest.

Sean was knocked to the ground. He then realized the opening of the sack had been pulled tight, and he couldn’t break free.

But he still had a grip on one of their arms. They weren’t going to get their way either.

"Jane Lancaster?" he said, his voice a warning. "I suggest you let go. Otherwise, I won’t be so courteous."

As he spoke, he squeezed. The arm in his hand was so slender, it felt as if the bone would shatter in his palm at any second.

All’s fair in war. He had no intention of negotiating; overpowering her with brute force was the only sure way to win.

The force he applied was immense. Even a grown man would have screamed in pain, yet his attacker didn’t make a single sound.

Sean felt something was wrong. "You don’t want this arm anymore?" he asked in a low voice.

The next second, an uppercut slammed into his chin, followed by a barrage of more fists.

Sean couldn’t believe it. ’Does she not feel pain?’

He, however, certainly did. The ferocious assault forced him to release his grip in pain. His attacker seized the opportunity to break free, and the sack was instantly tied tight.

A faint chuckle could be heard. "Heh. I told you before, the next time I saw you, I’d beat you up again!"

Jane Lancaster had said she would beat him up, and she always kept her word.

For years, Sean Grant had built his fortune on dirty tricks. He was incomparably cunning, exploiting legal loopholes to harm countless people while remaining unscathed himself. On the surface, he was even lauded as an outstanding entrepreneur.

His victims either had their own skeletons in the closet and were afraid of being exposed in a dog-eat-dog world, were swindled without ever realizing he was a demon, or simply lacked the power to get revenge.

All these years, as his wealth and social status grew, he had faced no retribution whatsoever.

But today was different.

To give him a proper "welcome," Jane had specifically used her ’Copper Wall, Iron Arm’ ability, ensuring he would get a good taste of a cat toying with a mouse.

Sean tried to fight back several times, but he was suppressed each time.

He had made many enemies over the years, but none had ever been able to get the better of him. He never expected to be taken down by such an amateur move today.

The weather was cold, yet he was covered in sweat under the sack. It trickled into the cuts on his face, stinging painfully.

What angered him more was his own powerlessness in this moment.

It was as if he were a child again, forced to passively take a beating, unable to do a thing.

Overcome by rage, panic, and a lack of oxygen, he briefly passed out.

Jane stopped just before ’Copper Wall, Iron Arm’ wore off and prepared to make a swift retreat.

Suddenly, the System’s voice echoed in her mind: [Someone’s coming!]

[Two people are coming out of the clubhouse on the left to check things out! And someone’s coming from the right—it’s one of Sean Grant’s bodyguards!]

The path was long, narrow, and offered no cover. Pinned from both sides, it would be difficult for Jane to escape.

[It was Sean Grant’s assistant. He called the clubhouse.] The mechanical voice was filled with regret. [I should have blocked the phone signals too.]

That assistant was too vigilant, making a confirmation call for a trip that only took a few minutes.

’Copper Wall, Iron Arm’ had already worn off, and the backlash was setting in. There was no way Jane could handle an attack from both sides.

Jane gritted her teeth. She had no other choice. She could only follow her planned escape route and rush to the left.

Just as she charged around the corner, her muscles tensed, ready for a fight...

But there was no ambush waiting around the corner, only a warm embrace.

Dressed in a black overcoat, Jasper Sterling swiftly swept her into his arms, hiding her beneath the fabric.

On the ground lay two men, their heads also covered with identical burlap sacks, tied tight at the opening. They were writhing and struggling on the pavement.

Holding her didn’t hinder his movements at all. His steps were swift and agile as he disappeared into the shadows of the building, vanishing into the night.

—

When Jim Jenson heard that Sean Grant had been attacked behind the clubhouse, was seriously injured, and was unconscious, he rushed out to check on him.

This clubhouse was one of Sean’s secret businesses, so the manager also followed with his men.

Everyone was shocked. Someone actually dared to attack their boss?

The area around the clubhouse immediately went on high alert. Everyone was grim, thinking the boss was likely in serious trouble this time.

The manager was calling for an ambulance, and the bodyguards were pacing anxiously. But after Jim Jenson took a look at Sean, he felt his heart settle.

"Sean should be fine. It’s probably just some soft tissue bruising," he said after a moment’s hesitation.

After all, he himself had just gotten out of the hospital not long ago. It was really just superficial wounds, not even qualifying as a minor injury.

"How is that possible? The attacker was so vicious, and the boss has been unconscious this whole time. He’s probably been seriously hurt..." someone retorted.

Just then, Sean stirred and regained consciousness.

The moment he woke up, his expression changed. "I can’t use my arm at all. It must be broken..."

As soon as he said that, everyone’s hearts sank.

"Quick, quick, get a doctor!" The assistant, who had just rushed over, shouted in grief and anger upon hearing this.

Jim was a bit puzzled. ’Did the attacker really deal Sean a crippling blow, trying to disable him?’

"But that’s not right..."

"What’s not right about it? They were so brutal! Fine, just fine. This feud is on!"

Sean took a deep breath. He wasn’t actually surprised that she would be so vicious. After all, when he had squeezed her arm, he hadn’t held back either, fully intending to cripple her.

Such ruthless retaliation was to be expected.

One of the bodyguards stepped forward. After a moment’s hesitation, he took hold of Sean’s limp, dangling arm, pushed it upward, and with a soft CRACK, the bone popped back into place.

"There we go," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead and breathing a sigh of relief. "Luckily, Miss Morgan taught me how to handle this. It was just a dislocation."

Both arms were popped back into their sockets. Sean moved them around and found he had no trouble.

He didn’t have any broken legs or arms. The only thing was that his face was swollen like a pig’s head.

’To go to all that trouble, and even after how viciously I treated her, she still held back from killing or crippling me...’

Jim Jenson asked, "Sean, do you know who it was?"

"It was Jane Lancaster," Sean said, his tone resolute.

Having been beaten by her twice now, he couldn’t be more certain. It was her.

He savored the taste of his anger, almost laughing in fury. "Why wasn’t she trying to kill me this time, like back when we were kids..."

His words stopped abruptly.

The night wind WHOOSHED around him, but his heart began to pound violently.

’That time, when we were children... the one who attacked me, who tried to kill me... it wasn’t Jane Lancaster.’