The box, with impeccably bad timing, ended up in the arms of Sheldon Yale. The sight of the bloody head startled him so much that his face turned pale, his body wobbled, and he almost toppled over backwards.
The next second, the head that had fallen to the ground rolled out of the box and stopped after turning a couple of times on the ground.
It was fake!
Realizing this, Sheldon turned furiously to look at Chester.
"This is the gift I prepared for my son. Uncle insisted on fighting over it with a child and even scared himself. Do you want to blame me for that?" Chester said coldly, his hand casually tucked into his pocket.
His demonic pupils gave Sheldon a quick glance.
The sharp look immediately choked Sheldon up to the point he couldn't say anything.
The box was what they had just accused Chester of taking from the old Yale family mansion. Even if they were scared, it was their own misfortune.
