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Chapter 126: Chapter 125 Liam’s Terror II
Liam lay on the ground, gasping softly. Dust clung to his skin. Smoke stung his lungs. His ears rang, a high-pitched whine that drowned out the chaos around him. His eyes were barely open, flickering like a failing light bulb. His thoughts... scattered.
Where... am I?
His vision spun, the night sky and scorched earth trading places over and over again. His muscles ached. His bones groaned. He couldn’t move—could barely think. His senses fought to reboot, but everything was distant and dreamlike.
He didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching.
A shadow cast over his sprawled body. A figure stood above him—tall, wrapped in black combat gear, Crimson Hand insignia on his shoulder. The man stared down at Liam with a blank, emotionless expression as he raised his gun. He didn’t shout. He didn’t say a word.
He simply aimed.
Click.
The metallic click of the safety going off was the only warning.
Then—
BANG.
A single, sharp gunshot cracked through the battlefield. The Crimson Hand soldier’s head snapped back violently, a neat bullet hole right between his eyes. His body staggered once before collapsing backward, his weapon clattering beside Liam’s head.
Liam blinked slowly, his breathing still ragged.
From the smoke emerged a familiar silhouette, moving with grace. Lilith stepped forward, her pistol still warm in her hand as she casually tucked it back into the holster. Her boot crunched against the debris-covered ground as she approached him.
Behind her, the shadows moved—five of them. Her elite guards, dressed in sleek black, moved like wraiths across the battlefield. One slashed a Crimson Hand soldier clean through the neck; another twisted into a spinning kick, shattering bone and slamming a knife into another enemy’s back. Blood sprayed across the scorched soil. There was no mercy. No hesitation.
They were protecting their queen.
Lilith dropped to one knee beside Liam, her sharp eyes scanning his body. "Still breathing," she muttered.
Liam blinked again, his vision beginning to stabilize. The first thing he saw was her face—Lilith’s beautiful, intense features framed by her golden-blonde hair. Her expression was tight with worry and anger. Her scent filled his lungs.
He murmured weakly, "Am I... dreaming?"
SLAP.
The sharp crack of her palm across his face jolted him harder than the explosion.
His head snapped to the side. His senses finally sparked like jumper cables across dead wires. His body remembered how to function.
"The hell—" he groaned, holding his chin. "Was that... really necessary?"
"That’s for not answering my calls, idiot," Lilith said coldly, though there was a rare flicker of emotion in her voice—relief. She stood, reached down, and helped him up without another word.
As she pulled him to his feet, Liam swayed slightly. His head leaned closer to her shoulder, their faces almost brushing. Her lips parted slightly as she looked at him.
Then suddenly—
His hand moved, fast and fluid.
He reached down toward her thigh, gripped the sleek pistol strapped there, and pulled it free in one smooth motion. He twirled it with perfect control between his fingers.
BAM! BAM!
Two thunderous shots rang out—so fast it was almost a single sound.
Lilith’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even blinked.
When she turned, she saw the bodies. Two Crimson Hand soldiers had managed to get past the shadows, coming in from a hidden angle. One was already dead on the ground, a bullet through the chest. The other was still twitching, a hole between his eyes.
The shadows hadn’t failed exactly—they were overwhelmed. Enemies were pouring in from every direction. Even the remaining Black Lotus fighters were being pushed back, despite their earlier advantage. The moment Liam had taken out the mounted machine guns, they had turned the tide... but it hadn’t stopped the Crimson Hand.
They just kept coming.
More and more, crawling out of smoke and shadows like roaches. From god-knows-where.
Liam cursed under his breath. "Where the hell are they all coming from?"
He grabbed a rifle from a fallen enemy, cocked it, and chambered a round with practiced precision. His blue eyes narrowed.
Lilith drew her dual pistols, each of them glinting under the moonlight.
She looked over at him, her expression hard and focused. "We end this. Together."
Liam looked at her—really looked at her—for a second. Even with the blood, the fire, the bullets flying around them... she was beautiful. Deadly. A storm wrapped in silk and steel.
He nodded once.
And then they moved—side by side—charging into the fray.
Side by side, they sprinted into the chaos like shadows reborn from hell. Liam’s rifle barked in rapid bursts, each shot precise, elegant, almost poetic in the way his bullets found their targets. He didn’t waste bullets—every pull of the trigger ended a life.
Lilith, graceful as a panther, ducked low under a stream of enemy fire and rolled forward. Her pistols fired simultaneously—bang bang bang—hitting three gang members in the chest. She twirled mid-motion, flipped behind a burnt-out car, and reloaded in the blink of an eye. When she emerged again, it was death in motion.
They fought like they had done this forever. Every time Liam moved forward, Lilith was there, covering his blind spots. Every time Lilith flanked to the side, Liam shifted instinctively, watching her back. When she crouched low, he stood tall. When he pushed right, she drifted left.
There was a rhythm to it. A dance.
Liam slid behind a flipped truck and used its side as cover. Lilith dashed behind him, using his shoulder as a pivot point to spring forward, twisting in mid-air and shooting down two Crimson Hand members trying to flank them.
"I’m starting to think you’re reading my mind," Liam muttered under his breath as he ducked back to reload.
Lilith smirked slightly, her face dusted with dirt and sweat but still unbelievably stunning. "No time for thinking, handsome. Just don’t fall behind."
Three men charged from the alley beside them—Liam raised his rifle, fired two clean shots, and Lilith finished the third with a bullet to the knee and one to the head as he fell.
The fight intensified. Crimson Hand members flooded the area like a wave, their numbers seeming endless. But Lilith and Liam didn’t back down. They were the eye of the storm, cutting through enemies with ruthless precision.
Liam spun around as a man aimed at Lilith. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee and fired a perfect shot.
Lilith didn’t even flinch. "Thanks."
"You can repay me with dinner."
"If we survive this," she replied, spinning and delivering a double headshot to two charging men, "you’re paying."
Liam chuckled, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He vaulted over a car and used his new Dragon Step skill, his body flowing like smoke as he dodged incoming fire and swept through a line of attackers with brutal, palm-augmented strikes followed by a rapid series of shots.
Lilith covered his back the entire time, spinning with him, moving in sync like a perfect mirror. She ducked low, firing between Liam’s legs at enemies behind him, and he stepped aside just in time for her to slide beside him, reloading with a flick of her wrist.
The pair stood back to back as Crimson Hand members circled them.
"Ten seconds," Liam whispered.
"That’s all I need," Lilith replied.
Together, they spun outwards in a whirlwind of bullets and fury. Liam’s rifle roared. Lilith’s pistols spat fire. Bodies dropped in every direction. Sparks flew, and blood sprayed across the street like dark petals in the wind.
But in the middle of it—just as they cleared the surrounding enemies—crack!
Lilith gasped.
A bullet tore through her shoulder.
Liam froze.
He turned, eyes wide, as Lilith stumbled back, clutching her arm, blood seeping between her fingers. The glow in her eyes flickered, her body hunched forward.
"No—" Liam growled.
He didn’t see where the shot came from, but he didn’t care.
The air around him changed. The fire that burned in his chest turned into something else.
Rage.
Pure, white-hot rage.
He stepped in front of her, eyes burning with fury, the rifle in his hands feeling like an extension of his soul.
Lilith slumped against the side of a car, her lips parting in pain, but her voice still steady.
"Liam... don’t freeze. Kill them."
His fists clenched.
His gaze locked on the shadows ahead.
And then—he moved.
