He treated hitting people with his car like some kind of game.
Like a kid whose mind stopped growing around ten years old, with zero sense of society.
Running someone down didn't cause him any panic at all.
If someone was behind him, tricking him that hitting Aiden Shaw was just a game, and promising him a reward afterward.
That would be even more convincing.
But to make a madman obey, anyone who can direct this lunatic either lures him by catching his interest, or is someone closest to him.
All of this was Tiana Thorne's speculation.
Staring at the madman who was still convulsing, with no basic awareness, living in his own world all day long.
She didn't know what his inner world was like, whether he even understood what suffering was.
But right now he was in the throes of an epileptic seizure, face ashen, that kind of extreme contortion—any normal person watching would feel a stab of crushing inferiority and fear.
