They Can Hear My Thoughts

1
The new estate manager, Julian, was a magnetic male lead who "saved" my three villainous sisters, turning them into his loyal attack dogs. They handed him the Armstrong family's vast resources. Consumed by jealousy over stolen affection, I targeted him constantly until my sisters grew disgusted. My eldest sister froze my accounts and banished me. My second swapped my meds to keep me in agony. My third hid my identity, letting fans cyberbully me to death. I died miserably, unclaimed.
Reborn, I decided to lay flat and let things play out. What I didn't expect was that my sisters could now hear my inner thoughts.
The last time I'd seen them in my past life, I sat in a broken wheelchair in a filthy rental room, wearing grease-stained rags. Julian, draped in haute couture, was surrounded by my three sisters doting on him. He looked at me with condescension. "For the sake of us once being best friends, if you apologize and call me brother-in-law, I'll forgive you and let you move back to the Armstrong estate. How does that sound?"
Call him brother-in-law? Like hell he deserved that!
He was the reason my face was destroyed. He was the reason I was crippled. His shameless goal of marrying into the Armstrong family was nothing more than a calculated plot to destroy our empire from the inside.
But no one believed a single word I said. Everyone was convinced I was just blinded by jealousy, and that my pathetic fate was entirely my own fault.
I clenched my jaw so hard I tasted blood, and spat violently in his direction. "You? Deserve that? I'd rather die than call a parasite like you family!"
"One day, your disgusting, two-faced scheme is going to be exposed to everyone—"
Before I could finish, a brutal slap struck across my face. The sheer force of it made my teeth rattle, and a high-pitched ringing exploded in my ears.
I forced my swollen eyes open and saw my eldest sister’s icy, apathetic face. Her brows were knitted tightly together, looking at me as if I were a piece of rotting garbage.
"Hugo Armstrong. If you can't keep that filthy mouth shut, I have no problem ripping it open for you!"
I clutched my burning cheek, my voice trembling. "Sis..."
She cut me off ruthlessly. "Do not call me your sister. The day you framed Julian, you ceased to be our brother."
Her words were like serrated knives, twisting into my already bleeding heart.
The light in my eyes slowly died. I wanted to say something, anything, but when I opened my mouth, my throat was so raw and dry that no sound came out.
Then, my heart started to seize. I clutched my chest, gasping frantically for air. "My... medicine."
My second sister had quit smoking years ago, but she picked up the habit again just because Julian smoked.
She took two steps forward and violently crushed her lit cigarette directly into the back of my hand. Ignoring my hoarse scream of agony, she pointed a manicured finger at my chest and sneered. "Hugo, your congenital heart defect is probably just karma for having such a black, rotten core. Honestly? I don't think there's any point in treating you anymore."
The pain was so blinding I tumbled out of the wheelchair, hitting the dirty floor. I was practically suffocating.
My third sister slowly crouched down, examining my emaciated, skeletal frame. She scowled. "Stop acting like a victim, Hugo. Do you honestly think playing the pathetic cripple is going to earn our forgiveness? Let me spell it out for you: you are delusional."
"And by the looks of it, you still haven't learned your lesson."
Her words carried a deeply malicious undertone.
I knew exactly what she meant. Just because I cursed at Julian once, she gave her fanatical followers the green light to publicly humiliate me online. Her stalker fans even tracked me down, pushed me out of my wheelchair, and stood there laughing as I crawled through the dirt.
They constantly threw dead rats at my front door. The landlord couldn't take the harassment anymore and kicked me out. That was why I was forced to rent this rotting shed next to a literal garbage dump, a place with a door that didn't even lock.
Without my medication, simply drawing breath became an excruciating battle.
I collapsed onto the filthy floor like a dying fish, covered in open wounds. My consciousness began to blur. I tried desperately to recall a single happy memory from my life, something that wasn't pure agony... but my mind was completely blank.
My sisters ignored my trembling, outstretched hand. They turned their backs on me and walked out, leaving behind a final, disgusted mutter: "What a curse."
I opened my mouth one last time, but I had absolutely no strength left to fight.
This was my second life. In my first life, I had calculated every move, fought tooth and nail, and still lost to the impenetrable plot armor of the "chosen" male lead.
This world was a generic, wish-fulfillment novel. Julian was the protagonist. His entire goal was to bankrupt the Armstrong family so he could pave a golden road for the woman he actually loved.
My three sisters were written as the grand villains. Yet, they inexplicably fell in love with Julian at first sight, let him "redeem" them, and willingly abandoned everything to act as his loyal lapdogs. They handed him every corporate asset, and even took literal bullets for him when he was kidnapped.
In the end, one of my sisters was crippled, one was permanently blinded, and the last was left in a vegetative state.
Desperate to save them from that horrific fate, I risked my life to expose Julian’s true intentions. But in their eyes, I was just a bitter, jealous little brother throwing a tantrum because Julian stole their attention.
I fell from the grace of being the Armstrong family's sole male heir, reduced to a disfigured, crippled outcast despised by everyone.
No matter how many times I restarted, Julian would flawlessly manipulate his way between my three sisters, effortlessly usurping the place in their hearts that used to belong to me.
I knew that when I opened my eyes again, everything would reset to the very beginning.
But this time... I was just so goddamn tired.
When I finally opened my eyes, my heart was still hammering against my ribs.
The rotting, filthy shed had transformed into the warm, brilliantly lit dining room of the Armstrong mansion. The soft, amber chandelier illuminated the exquisitely plated food in front of me. A familiar voice echoed right next to my ear, dripping with pathetic grievance.
"Hugo, why aren't you eating? Did I make something you don't like?"
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know you hated this."
"Tell me what you want to eat. I'll make whatever you want."
My pupils violently contracted. It was Julian's voice.
Right now, in this timeline, he was still pretending to be my best friend. He had already "saved" my three sisters a few times, and whispers were starting to spread that he was the Armstrong family's lucky charm.
He wasn't wearing the cheap uniform of an estate worker. He was dressed in a high-end designer outfit that I had bought for him. Sitting there, looking pampered and delicate, he looked more like the wealthy heir of the Armstrong family than I did.
Right now, his face was the picture of utter victimization. A grown man, literally biting his lower lip to look pitiful. "I specifically asked Martha in the kitchen. She said you absolutely love seafood. Are you refusing to eat just because I was the one who cooked it?"
"Don't worry... I followed Martha's instructions perfectly."
He was putting on a masterclass performance. But I just sat there, refusing to utter a single syllable.
Julian’s voice grew more frantic. "Hugo, why are you ignoring me? Are you... are you disgusted because I grew up in the slums? Do you think I'm dirty?"
I opened my mouth, but only meaningless, raspy syllables came out. I reached up and gripped my own throat, trying to force myself to speak. I was terrified that if I made Julian unhappy, my three sisters—who were already deeply infatuated with him—would use it as an excuse to torture me again.
But my vocal cords refused to form a complete sentence.
My eldest sister’s gaze shifted darkly between me and Julian. Her eyes were pools of frozen ink. "Hugo Armstrong. Is this the kind of manners the Armstrong family taught you?"
"Julian put his heart into making this for you. Even if you don't want to eat it, you will finish your plate."
I lowered my eyes, a cold, mocking laugh echoing entirely inside my own head.
These three women are already completely blinded by him. How could I ever dare to be disgusted by you, Julian? You're going to be the new master of the Armstrong family soon anyway.
I’m just a cripple destined to be thrown into the slums. What right do I have to judge you?
Anyone walking in right now would think Julian is the actual blood brother, seeing how fiercely you protect him.
Oh, wait. I forgot. He’s not a blood brother. He’s a lover boy.
And does anyone even care that I'm deathly allergic to seafood? Guess my life doesn't mean a damn thing.
For some inexplicable reason, the dining room plunged into a suffocating silence. The three women, who had just been smiling warmly moments before, suddenly froze, their expressions dropping into absolute ice.
The seafood paella looked nauseating, but I forced myself to shovel it into my mouth, bite by agonizing bite. Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I managed to stretch my lips into a hollow smile directed at Julian.
My eldest sister’s face was completely black, looking as if someone had just ruthlessly exposed her most shameful, guarded secret. Seeing me rapidly clear the plate and stand up to leave, her face turned pale, and she instinctively reached out her hand.
"Hugo..."
My second sister shot her a vicious glare, silently commanding her to shut up. She turned to me, her voice sickeningly gentle. "Hugo, are you feeling unwell today? Do you want your sister to examine you?"
She was a brilliant doctor. In my past life, the medication that was supposed to manage my heart condition was prescribed by her. And she was the one who abruptly cut it off. She watched me writhe in unspeakable agony, completely forgetting that I was once the little brother she doted on.
I paused on the first step of the grand staircase and looked back. My face was hidden in the shadows; no one could read my expression.
It's just a severe allergic reaction. It won't kill me instantly. I'm so goddamn tired. Stop torturing me. Whatever you want me to do, I'll just comply.
My second sister froze, the blood draining completely from her face. She practically choked on her apology. "I didn't... I didn't purposely forget your seafood allergy."
Not purposely? What a pathetic, laughable excuse.
I couldn't be bothered to entertain their twisted mind games anymore. I turned my back on them and walked upstairs without a shred of hesitation.
The moment Julian entered the picture, I knew the truth. No matter what I did, I would never be the one they chose. So I was done fighting. I was just going to let it all rot.
A sudden, aggressive knock on my bedroom door ripped me out of my chaotic thoughts.
It was Julian, armed with his signature pitiful routine. His voice was thick with fake tears, knocking rhythmically on the wood as if he would literally collapse if I didn't open the door.
"Hugo, what's wrong? Did I do something to upset you? I'm so sorry, please don't ignore me. Aren't we best friends?"
His words were agonizingly sweet.
But at the exact same moment, another voice echoed directly inside my head. It was also Julian’s voice.
Except the words he was saying were the absolute polar opposite.
"System. What the hell is Hugo acting crazy for?"
"He's completely going off script. None of this was in the plotline. Now those stupid female side characters think I'm bullying him! My affection meter just dropped ten whole points!"
A sterile, mechanical voice responded instantly in my mind. "Rest assured, Host. I have scanned the targets. Their affection levels for you remain comfortably above fifty. The point deductions are well within the controllable margin."
My entire body went numb. A terrifying chill crawled straight up my spine. Despite being in a heavily heated bedroom, violent shivers tore through my body.
It was those voices.
In my past life, when Julian orchestrated a car crash that left me in a brief coma, I used to hear these exact same voices echoing in the darkness of my hospital room.
I heard Julian and his "System" plotting exactly how to bankrupt the Armstrong empire, how to turn my family into a stepping stone for his own ascension.
The second I woke up from that coma, I desperately sought out my eldest sister to warn her. But no matter how frantically I tried to explain, she only looked at me with profound disgust.
Julian had walked out of the private lounge in her home office—a room she strictly forbade anyone else from entering—wearing the ultimate "wronged victim" face.
"Monica, it's okay. Hugo probably just had a moment of confusion to do something so reckless. It doesn't matter. I forgive him."
Monica’s face grew darker and darker as Julian played the martyr. She looked down at me and spat, "Hugo, what the hell has gotten into you? You try to murder Julian in a car crash, and when that fails, you have the audacity to slander him to my face?"
"He literally sat by your hospital bed while you were in a coma, begging me not to punish you!"
I couldn't quite remember what happened after that. I only remembered that from that exact moment, I was entirely erased from the Armstrong family.
I packed a tiny suitcase with a few changes of clothes. It was pouring rain outside. Monica’s expression didn't soften for a fraction of a second as she physically shoved me out the front door.
She looked down at me, covered in mud and filth, from the top of the grand marble steps. "Hugo Armstrong. Since you cannot tolerate Julian's existence, the Armstrong family will no longer recognize you as its heir."
"Without the title of the Armstrong heir... what exactly do you think you are?"
Just recalling those memories made my hands shake uncontrollably. What kind of twisted act was he trying to pull this time?
I didn't even have to guess. I knew for a fact Julian wasn't standing outside my door alone. I didn't know which sister's affection points he was trying to farm right now, but honestly? I didn't care. It had nothing to do with me anymore. I was leaving the Armstrong family anyway.
Knowing I couldn't hide in here forever, I took a deep breath, walked over, and yanked the door open.
Julian's hand was raised mid-knock. He didn't even look embarrassed. He immediately reached out to grab my hand, but I smoothly stepped sideways, letting him grab dead air.
"Hugo—" He dragged out my name, his eyes frantically darting to the space behind him. Standing there was my third sister. "If something is bothering you, just tell me. Please don't shut me out."
In my past life, he only ever acted this sickly sweet to me when my sisters were watching. The whole pathetic routine he just pulled was strictly for her benefit.
My third sister remained silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, it was, predictably, to defend Julian. She looked at me with a calculating, deeply concerned gaze.
"Hugo. I've been talking to Monica and Diana the past few days. Is there some sort of misunderstanding between you and Julian? Weren't you two inseparable?"
"You have no idea how many times he's cried in secret because you've been giving him the cold shoulder lately."
She let out a heavy sigh, putting on a sickeningly convincing mask of a loving sister. "I know a very highly regarded psychiatrist. If you're struggling with something and don't want to tell Monica or Diana... tell me. I'll take you to see him tomorrow, okay?"
So, without even trying to understand what happened, you instantly jump to throwing me into a psych ward... Right. In your eyes, anyone who doesn't worship Julian must be mentally ill.
When you permitted your rabid fanbase to dox and cyberbully me to the brink of suicide, you didn't seem to care if my mental health was declining then. Are you just trying to get revenge for Julian? You might as well just lock me in an asylum right now and throw away the key.
My third sister froze completely. The expression on her face slowly contorted into something horrified. She looked at Julian, then at me, and finally stared down at her own trembling hands in absolute disbelief.
"Hugo," she started, her voice shaking. "Did... did I do something terrible? Please don't hate me."
My face remained a mask of extreme caution. I slowly shook my head, then immediately slammed the heavy bedroom door shut in her face.
Right as the latch clicked, I heard a loud thud against the wood.
Followed instantly by Julian crying out in pain, "Chloe!"
The mechanical System blared in my head: "WARNING! Female side character Chloe affection -10. Current affection has dropped below 50. Host must formulate an immediate strategy to recover affection points."
"Do not call me that." My third sister’s voice sounded chillingly dark. "You might have fooled my two idiot sisters upstairs, but you haven't fooled me. You better give me a very good explanation right now, or I swear to God I will—"
I couldn't hear the rest of her threat. They must have walked away.
I didn't know what sparked her sudden, bizarre shift in attitude, and I couldn't bring myself to care. Seeing how deeply they had protected Julian up until this point, history repeating itself was only a matter of time.
Whatever Julian planned to do to the Armstrong family, it wasn't my problem anymore. For me, nothing mattered more than staying alive.