Chapter 263 Increasingly Crazy
Under the overpass, the bright lights were so harsh that people could not open their eyes.
The homeless men crowded into a circle, their coarse voices echoing in every direction.
William sat in the car, listening to those sounds, his brows tightly furrowed.
He closed the car window and smoked one cigarette after another.
He coughed until his face and neck flushed red, but still did not stop.
He did not actually like smoking at all. It was just that here, he did not know what else to do.
He turned his head and looked at Juniper in the crowd, watching her being passed from one man to another, and suddenly felt disgusted.
William dry-heaved twice, bringing up only some sour liquid.
His head dropped heavily against the passenger seat. He closed his eyes, not wanting to move at all.
The dry, burning sensation in his throat kept his nausea going without end.
He could not remember when he had started losing control of his body.
That sense of powerlessness made him feel afraid. He was scared that his own plan would be ruined because of it.
But at the same time, deep in his heart, there was a contradictory feeling. He could sense that he himself was sick.
William only regretted that this flu-like weakness and foggy mind were just minor problems that did not really hurt.
Looking at the leering smiles on those men's faces, a thought suddenly appeared in his head.
What was the meaning of human existence, really?
William found this thought ridiculous, because in the past, that decisive Mr. Spencer, who got his way in the business world, would never have entertained such a stupid question.
But now he was actually thinking seriously about it.
What was the point of staying alive?
Was it for revenge?
William was not sure.
He even felt this could not be called revenge.
He was simply using his talent for cruelty, making those people suffer as well.
Besides, this so-called revenge had no real justification.
If he claimed to be the victim, probably even he himself would not believe it.
In this world, the person who had hurt Isabella the most deeply was only him.
The weakness in his body and the sluggishness in his thoughts made William's mind increasingly confused.
He turned his head to look, and as he watched, tears appeared in his eyes.
"Every time you imitate Beatrice, you are defiling her."
William watched as Juniper and Isla passively endured those men's assault.
As he watched, those homeless men and Juniper all disappeared.
Under the overpass, that lamp suddenly turned into the Nightfall Club's sign.
He saw himself sending Isabella to the club, having the people in charge train her to become a dancer.
In the flickering lights, Isabella was also like this, surrounded by a group of men.
The way those men looked at her, it was as if they wanted to strip off Isabella's clothes, piece by piece.
Though the clothes on her body did not leave much to the imagination anyway.
William wiped away his tears. He remembered that after that night, when he saw Isabella again, she had already been admitted to the hospital.
William's vision gradually cleared, and Isabella's figure disappeared again.
He saw Juniper's face again.
"William, I know she misses Beatrice, but she cannot degrade herself like this and use Beatrice's name to make you feel sorry for her."
What Juniper said, along with Isabella, remained in his memories.
William's exhausted body finally found its strength again.
It was clearly a memory between two people, yet there was always a third party.
It seemed that when she was alive, Juniper was everywhere, in everything.
She was like she had put a tracker on William — every single time, she would force her way between him and Isabella.
A smile finally appeared on William's cold face.
At this moment, that bone-deep sense of powerlessness felt as if some force had dug it out from his bones.
William finally understood where the problem was.
He pushed open the car door and threw all those cigarettes into the river.
He was William, that Mr. Spencer whose heart was harder than stone.
How could someone like him feel mercy and compassion for others?
Wrong, everything was wrong.
William was an evil spirit destined for hell.
He had figured out where the problem lay. All of this was because of Donny and Ambrose.
Because of their appearance, his plan had been disrupted.
William's eyes grew a little more fierce. Now he had changed his plan for Donny.
Someone like him absolutely could not be kept at home.
He was like a virus, gradually eating away at his power.
If Donny continued to stay, one day he would really fall for Donny's tricks.
William got back into the car, not even saying hello to Dylan.
He drove himself straight back to the villa.
In the living room, everything was quiet.
Three cages — the ones on both sides were empty, only the middle one had Donny lying in it.
William clapped his hands, and six bodyguards walked over.
He had the men lift Donny up, and took a baseball bat from another bodyguard's hand.
Because of the electric shock, Donny was still in a deep coma.
William looked at him, looked at his lowered head.
He immediately thought of Isabella sitting in her wheelchair.
Isabella was in a wheelchair — her head was also tilted to one side like this.
William hesitated for a moment, but he quickly crushed that hesitation beneath his heel.
He grabbed the baseball bat and brought it down on Donny's left leg.
Once, twice.
When it came down the second time, Donny was finally awakened by the pain of his broken bone.
He opened his eyes, still not knowing what had happened.
Only the unprecedented pain in his left shin almost made him cry out.
Donny gritted his teeth, drops of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
He finally saw the situation clearly.
It was William standing in front of him, still holding a baseball bat, its barrel already cracked.
Several bodyguards were firmly holding him down, not letting him escape.
Donny saw the situation clearly. He raised his head to look at William.
He found that William's eyes held a look he had only seen in the media before.
It was the look of a violent patient with a history of multiple assaults.
William's illness was more complicated than he had imagined.
He had originally thought William only suffered from split personality and depression.
But now it seemed he already had violent tendencies. His mental state would probably get closer and closer to that of a madman.
There was a high possibility that he would gradually lose human senses and emotions, and rebuild his understanding of this world.
"Throw him out."
William dropped the baseball bat from his hand and said coldly.
Those bodyguards carried Donny. Every movement made the pain in his left shin explode as his leg dragged on the ground.
Red blood flowed down his shin into his shoe.
Donny was thrown onto the street outside. Those bodyguards walked away without looking back.
Donny tried to stand up, but his shin only moved slightly before the pain made his vision go black.
Based on his experience as a doctor, Donny guessed that the bone in his shin had been broken.