Chapter 1400: Chapter 1400: First Memory Loss
Atra Blanc’s first amnesia occurred at this moment.
…
Old Master Summers received a notification from the police station and went to the hospital to see Clyde Summers, who was covered in injuries. He lay on the hospital bed, still unconscious, because he had been force-fed a large dose of ketamine. The doctor said he would remain asleep for a while.
The few delinquents who committed the crime were a gang of hoodlums who had beaten people up, stolen money, and even served time in jail.
That day, they drank some alcohol, took some drugs, and were looking for fun when they encountered Clyde Summers and his group.
The boys were unlucky. As they were singing happily, these delinquents suddenly intruded. Blondie told them they had walked into the wrong private room. Maybe because they had been drinking, his tone was rather aggressive, yet this side was no pushover either; the slightest provocation led to a big fight between them.
On one side were youthful teenagers, and on the other were seasoned societal scoundrels in their twenties and thirties—clear disparity in strength and experience.
Clyde Summers had never suffered such humiliation. Ordinarily, he would only take bodyguards to public events, but in private gatherings with friends, he acted freely. Moreover, if ordinary people knew he was the young master of the Summers Family, they would show him some deference.
However, these few people were different. Perhaps their prison time made them especially bold, or drugs had numbed their nerves, leaving them fearless and unhesitating in their methods of torment.
When the police arrived, those delinquents were all dead—some were strangled to death by a group of students, some were killed with a pen stuck through their necks, and some died from an overdose of medicine.
No one could clearly recall how they fought back—perhaps it was desperation that triggered potential, or perhaps the drug effects in those young delinquents provided an opportunity, but, ultimately, not a single attacker was left alive.
The case involving multiple deaths was sure to warrant a death penalty, but the perpetrators were a group of underage students.
How to handle it became the biggest dilemma.
Especially since among these students was Clyde Summers—
At fifteen years old, protected by the Juvenile Law, and having just participated in the National joint entrance examination, if accepted into a prestigious university, it would not only bring glory to the Summers Family but also to all of Clearwater City. It would be far too costly to exchange that glory for a few thuggish ruffians.
Additionally, the laws were not very comprehensive at that time, and Old Master Summers used various means to lobby and negotiate, ultimately getting the police station to settle the case with the claim of self-defense.
There was an issue on Atra Blanc’s side.
She bore bruises and injuries, as well as signs of sexual assault. Initially, it was thought the culprits were those delinquents, but the DNA comparison of sperm didn’t match any of them, and DNA from the male students present wasn’t collected…
The deaths of those people could still be framed as self-defense, but the sexual assault could not be justified.
The police analyzed that it was one of the male students at the scene who, under the influence of drugs, acted impulsively…
Much like getting drunk, blacking out, and having no memory of one’s actions upon waking, or believing oneself to be dreaming.
Old Master Summers spent some money and found a way to suppress the issue. His meaning was: since the case is already closed, let’s not pursue it further.
Even if the person responsible is identified, it would not serve any benefit.
…
In the hospital room, Old Master Summers quietly watched Atra Blanc.
Her skin was very pale, making those bruises stand out even more. Her hand was wrapped in gauze, where deep cuts from broken glass had been inflicted.
Old Master Summers suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty. If it weren’t for his son, how could such a young girl have been subjected to something like this?
“Does it still hurt?” Old Master Summers asked her.
Atra Blanc sat on the hospital bed, slowly shook her head, and looked at him with eyes that were unfamiliar and confused.
The doctor said she had suffered amnesia due to the trauma. Whether it was temporary or permanent, no one could say.
Old Master Summers looked at her and told her word by word: “Your name is Atra Blanc, ‘Atra’ as in white, and ‘Blanc’ as in grass. You are my personal caregiver. You encountered hooligans due to an accident and got a little hurt, but don’t be afraid, it’s over now… As long as I live, the Summers Family will not mistreat you…”