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Chapter 50: Chapter 50 Arrival Of The Police
Liam pressed his back against the wooden counter, gripping the pistol tightly in his left hand while blood trickled from the bullet wound in his shoulder. His breathing was uneven, but his mind remained sharp, calculating his next move. He knew they were coming—he could hear their footsteps creeping closer. The sound of shifting boots against the tiled floor echoed in the hallway, and his sharp instincts told him they were closing in from behind.
Instead of panicking, he closed his eyes and waited.
The moment the first man came into view, Liam struck like a viper.
He lunged from his hiding spot, his body moving with a burst of raw force as he drove the knife into the man’s leg. The blade sank deep into muscle and bone, drawing a guttural scream from his victim.
Liam didn’t stop there.
He released the knife, leaving it embedded in the man’s leg, and used the momentum to leap up. His entire body twisted mid-air, his injured shoulder screaming in protest, but his focus was unshaken. With a sharp inhale, he raised his pistol and fired.
BANG!
The bullet ripped through the man’s lower jaw. Blood and shattered teeth splattered against the wall as the force of the shot sent him tumbling backward. His hands went limp, and the weapon he had been holding slipped from his grip.
But it wasn’t just any gun.
Liam’s sharp gaze locked onto it before it hit the ground—
A Heckler & Koch MP5.
A submachine gun. Fully automatic.
Perfect.
His instincts took over. Liam snatched the gun mid-air before it could hit the ground, his fingers expertly curling around the grip.
Thankfully, he knew how to use it.
Shooting had always been one of his hobbies ever since he turned eighteen. Every Saturday, he would spend hours at the firing range, perfecting his aim, testing different firearms, pushing himself to improve. It had been nothing more than practice back then—a simple routine, a personal challenge.
Until today.
Today, the targets weren’t wooden boards or moving dummies.
Today, he was killing real people.
A flicker of thought passed through his mind, but there was no hesitation, no doubt, no regret.
Because these men?
These weren’t innocent bystanders.
They were monsters.
Just as Liam secured his grip on the MP5, his sharp eyes caught something in the reflection of a broken glass panel nearby—
Two more men.
They were coming from behind, moving cautiously, stepping as silently as possible. Their guns were raised, their fingers resting on the trigger, prepared to shoot the second they saw him.
But they didn’t realize something—
Liam had already seen them.
A plan formed in his mind in an instant.
With a flick of his wrist, he threw his pistol out into the open.
The metallic clang echoed through the hallway.
The moment it hit the floor, the two men reacted exactly as he expected.
Their eyes instinctively snapped toward the noise, their guns following, for just a second thinking it was something else.
That was all the time Liam needed.
He was already moving.
Before they could turn their weapons back on him, Liam burst out from behind the counter. Blood dripped from his wounds, staining his clothes, but his movements were still fast, still precise.
His fingers gripped the MP5, his body lowered into position, and—
He pulled the trigger.
TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A rapid burst of bullets tore through the air.
The two men didn’t even have time to react.
The first one took multiple rounds straight to the chest, his body jerking violently before he collapsed backward, his weapon slipping from his grasp.
The second man barely had time to lift his gun before Liam adjusted his aim and fired again.
TAT-TAT-TAT!
Bullets ripped through his torso. Blood sprayed against the walls as his knees buckled, and with a final, choked gasp, he slumped to the ground.
Liam exhaled, his muscles tense, his breathing heavy.
It was done.
For a moment, the hallway was eerily silent, save for the faint ringing in his ears from the gunfire. He could feel his pulse pounding, the sharp ache of his injuries making itself known now that the adrenaline rush had started to fade.
He glanced down at the bodies littering the floor, at the blood pooling beneath them.
Did he feel remorse? Pity? Guilt?
Not even a little.
After learning what these men had done—after hearing everything Amanda told him about them—he felt nothing.
If anything, he would have killed them even slower if he had the chance.
Right now, there was only one thing left in his mind.
The Boss.
The man who had ordered his capture. The man who had tortured him. The man who thought he could break him. no𝚟𝚙u𝚋.c𝚘m
Liam wasn’t going to stop until he found him.
Until he made sure he was dead.
His grip on the MP5 tightened as he started walking.
He didn’t care about the pain.
He didn’t care about the blood loss.
All he cared about now was finishing this.
---
Liam moved forward, his steps uneven, his grip on the MP5 tightening as he forced himself to keep going. The hallway stretched ahead of him like an endless maze, doors lining both sides, each one a possible threat, each one a reminder of how deep into this place he had come.
How many rooms were in this damned building?
His vision was beginning to blur. The blood loss was getting worse, and his body was starting to betray him. Every step felt heavier than the last, his wounds burning like fire beneath his skin.
Then—
Distant sirens.
Faint at first, but quickly growing louder.
Liam’s instincts kicked in instantly.
The police.
The moment he heard the sound of approaching sirens, he knew his time was up.
He couldn’t afford to continue moving forward. His body was already reaching its limit, and now there was another problem—
The blood.
His own dripping blood.
His gaze fell to the dark red droplets marking the floor beneath him, forming a trail that led directly to where he was standing. His heart pounded harder.
If the police found this—if they analyzed the blood—they would know.
They would know he was here.
And with Amanda already involving them, that would raise too many questions—questions he didn’t want to answer.
Just as his mind raced through what to do next, something else happened.
A notification.
A small, transparent blue message suddenly flickered into his vision, hovering in midair like a holographic display.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: DNA signature altered. Any forensic tracking will be rendered useless.]
Liam’s eyes widened.
What?
The system... was erasing his traces?
His initial reaction was relief. If what it said was true, then no matter how much blood he had left behind, there was no way anyone would be able to link it back to him.
But then frustration took over.
He clenched his teeth, his grip tightening around the MP5.
"You piece of shit system," he muttered under his breath. "Where the hell were you when I was about to die?!"
It had sat there, doing nothing while he was bleeding out, fighting for his life. But now, now it wanted to clean up his tracks?
Liam exhaled sharply, forcing himself to push his irritation aside.
He didn’t have time to argue with a system.
Right now, all he needed to do was get out.
With that, he turned around, his legs moving on instinct as he retraced his steps. He had one last stop to make before leaving.
He needed to get his phone.
Liam moved as quickly as his wounded body allowed, his footsteps dragging as he reached the familiar door—the same one he had entered earlier, where the girl had been.
He pushed it open.
The moment he stepped inside, the girl flinched.
Her body tensed up, her eyes filled with panic as she stared at him.
Liam must have looked like a monster.
Blood covered him. His clothes were soaked in it, a mix of his own and the men he had killed. His movements were slow, but his eyes—his eyes held a terrifying sharpness, one that made her inch back instinctively.
Liam didn’t have the energy to reassure her.
Instead, he did the only thing that mattered.
"My phone," he said, his voice hoarse.
The girl hesitated. Her gaze dropped to his wounded arm, to the bullet hole in his shoulder, to the blood dripping from his fingers. She wasn’t stupid—she knew exactly what this meant.
He had been involved in the gunfight.
And judging by the fact that he was standing here alive...
He must have killed a lot of them.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Then, without a word, she grabbed the phone and threw it to him.
Liam caught it weakly, his fingers barely curling around the device before stuffing it into his pocket.
He turned to leave, but before he stepped out, he looked back at her.
"I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention my involvement to the police."
The girl simply stared at him, her lips parting slightly, before slowly nodding.
She didn’t say a word.
Liam took that as enough.
With that, he turned and left.
The back exit was close.
Liam’s legs felt heavier with every step, but the sight of the back door in the distance gave him the last bit of strength he needed.
He pushed it open, stepping outside into the cold night air.
And there it was.
A car.
It was parked just outside the building, the driver’s side unlocked.
Liam didn’t hesitate.
He rushed to it, his body practically falling into the driver’s seat as he slammed the door shut behind him.
His hands immediately went to the ignition.
No keys.
Liam clenched his teeth. "For fuck’s sake."
His eyes darted toward the steering column, and without wasting another second, he reached under it, ripping open the plastic casing.
He didn’t have time to hotwire it the slow way.
Instead, he went straight for the key cylinder—grabbing the wires that connected to it.
Hotwiring a car wasn’t that complicated, but it needed precision.
First, he separated the battery wires from the rest and stripped them.
Next, he did the same for the ignition wires.
With his hands slick from blood, he twisted the battery wires together first, sending power through the vehicle.
Then, without hesitation, he touched the ignition wires to them.
The engine roared to life.
Liam didn’t waste a second.
The moment the car started, his foot slammed onto the gas pedal.
The tires screeched against the pavement as he sped away from the building, the sound of approaching police sirens growing fainter behind him.
His vision blurred slightly, his hands tightening around the wheel.
The adrenaline was wearing off.
The pain was hitting him hard now.
But he had only one thought in his head.
Only one destination.
Amanda’s house.
Right now, she was the only person he could trust to understand what was going on.
****
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