Chapter 52 War Preparation

Liam’s eyes locked onto the shattered remains of his phone, the tiny fragments of glass reflecting the dim light of his bedroom. His pulse was still pounding, his body still adjusting to whatever had just happened to him. But as he processed the long list of missed calls he had seen just before the phone broke, one thought immediately came to mind—Amanda.

She must have reported him missing. After what happened at her house—the blood, the wrecked furniture, the shattered walls—it was obvious she would have panicked. The moment she realized he was gone, she must have called the police, and once they saw the crime scene, they wouldn’t have wasted any time alerting everyone close to him.

Liam clenched his jaw.

Damn it. This is exactly what I didn’t want.

He could already imagine the chaos. His name might already be circulating in police reports, detectives could be trying to track his movements, and his sudden appearance would only make things worse.

His fingers curled into a fist out of sheer frustration—CRACK.

A sharp snapping sound echoed through the room as his grip unconsciously shattered his phone completely. He glanced down at his hand, realizing he had just crushed the device like it was nothing more than a brittle piece of plastic.

Another side effect of the upgrade, huh?

But he didn’t care.

Right now, there was only one thing on his mind—revenge.

Before, all of this had started as a way to help Amanda. He hadn’t wanted to get involved beyond that. But after what they did to him—after how close he had come to dying—this was no longer about just helping someone else. This was personal.

He wouldn’t stop until everything the Boss had built was reduced to ashes.

Not just the Boss himself, but everyone involved.

The ones who ran the operations. The ones who funded them. The ones who profited off the suffering of others.

All of them.

And now?

With the system’s upgrade, he finally had the power to fight back.

But there was a problem.

If he just showed up out of nowhere, questions would be asked.

People would wonder how he survived. The police would want answers. Amanda would demand to know what happened to him. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself right in the spotlight, and that was the last place he needed to be.

Then, a thought struck him.

The warehouse.

The police should have already raided it by now, the entire thing should be all over the news.

If he reappeared now, his return would barely be a blip on the radar—because everyone’s focus would be on what happened last night.

Liam narrowed his eyes and pulled his personal computer , flipping through its various functions. His phone was useless now, but thanks to the PC , he had other ways to access information.

With a simple thought, he connected to one of his neighbor’s unsecured Wi-Fi networks—a quick hack that barely took a second. Once the connection was stable, he opened a digital browser through the system and went straight to the news.

And just as he expected—it was everywhere.

HEADLINE AFTER HEADLINE FLASHED ACROSS HIS SCREEN:

SECRET "DOLLHOUSE" BROTHEL RAIDED BY POLICE—MULTIPLE ARRESTS MADE!

ILLEGAL TRAFFICKING WAREHOUSE UNCOVERED—DOZENS OF VICTIMS RESCUED!

MYSTERIOUS VIGILANTE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYS CRIMINAL OPERATION!

ARMED WEAPONS DEALERS TAKEN DOWN IN DEADLY FIREFIGHT!

HIGH-PROFILE FIGURES LINKED TO UNDERGROUND HUMAN TRADE NETWORK!

WOMEN FREED FROM CAPTIVITY—HORRIFIC DETAILS EMERGE!

MASSIVE POLICE OPERATION EXPOSES CITYWIDE CORRUPTION!

UNKNOWN HERO SAVES HOSTAGES—IDENTITY STILL UNKNOWN!

Liam’s lips curled into a smirk as he read through them.

One particular headline caught his attention.

"MYSTERIOUS VIGILANTE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DESTROYS CRIMINAL OPERATION!"

He clicked on it, skimming through the article.

There—right in the middle of the text.

The girl he had saved.

She had spoken to reporters, describing how she and the other women had been rescued by a mystery figure—but she hadn’t given them any details about him.

No name. No face.

Just that he had saved their lives and vanished into the night.

Liam exhaled.

Smart girl.

If she had described him—even vaguely—there was a chance someone might have pieced it together. But she hadn’t. That worked in his favor.

For now.

But he didn’t have time to sit here reading articles. He had something more important to do.

He needed to talk to Amanda.

Liam flipped through the PC , pulling up his communication options. Since his real phone was destroyed, he’d have to use an alternate method.

A few moments later, he placed the call.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

Click.

A voice came through the line.

"Hello?"

Liam exhaled, adjusting his grip on the phone before finally speaking.

"Hey. It’s me, Liam."

The silence on the other end lasted only a second.

Then—panic.

"Liam? Oh my God, where the hell are you?!" Amanda’s voice burst through the receiver, frantic and full of relief at the same time. "I’ve been looking everywhere! The police have been looking everywhere! No one knew where you were!"

Liam let out a slow breath, already feeling a headache creeping in.

"Calm down." His tone was firm but not harsh. "I’m fine. I’m safe."

"Safe?" she echoed, her voice still filled with worry. "Where the hell have you been? I saw that man take you. Are you in some kind of captivity?"

Liam sighed, rubbing his temple.

"No. I’m home."

A brief pause.

Then—

"Wait—you’re at your house?"

"Yeah."

Amanda didn’t even hesitate.

"I’m around there right now. I’ll be at your place in five minutes!"

"Amanda, wai—"

Click.

She had already cut the call.

Liam stared at his phone’s blank screen for a second, blinking. Then he shook his head, exhaling sharply.

"She’s such a pain in my ass."

Still, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Amanda had always been like this—stubborn, impulsive, acting first and thinking later. Once she had her mind set on something, there was no stopping her.

The glowing screen disappeared as he shut his PC down. He leaned back in his chair for a moment, letting his thoughts settle.

Amanda showing up wasn’t ideal.

He had already decided what he needed to do—cut off all distractions. That included Amanda.

He wasn’t trying to push her away out of cruelty.

But the people he had fought last night—the ones running that hellhole—weren’t going to just let this go.

They had lost something valuable.

And they would want revenge.

If they found out he was still alive, they wouldn’t stop until they corrected that mistake.

And Amanda?

She was too close to him. Too easy of a target.

He had to make her understand that whatever she thought was happening—whatever she thought she needed to do—it wasn’t her fight.

Liam pushed himself out of his chair, grabbing a clean shirt and slipping it on as he made his way downstairs. His footsteps were slow, measured, his mind already preparing for the conversation he was about to have.

Then, as he reached the living room, something outside the window caught his eye.

A car.

Pulling up right in front of his house.

Liam furrowed his brows.

Since when did Amanda have a car?

His confusion deepened as he stepped closer to the window, getting a better look. And that’s when he saw him.

Mr. Rogers.

A wave of irritation washed over him.

Of all people... it had to be him.

Mr. Rogers was one of his teachers. A strict, self-righteous man who always seemed to have a personal vendetta against him. He wasn’t just a by-the-book teacher—he was the by-the-book teacher. The kind who believed in absolute discipline, in control, in crushing anyone who didn’t fall in line.

Liam had hated him since the very first day of class.

And now, there he was.

Sitting in the driver’s seat.

What the hell is he doing with Amanda?

Liam watched as the car door opened and Amanda stepped out, glancing back at Mr. Rogers for a brief moment before shutting the door. Whatever they had been talking about, it didn’t seem important—at least not to her.

She was already making her way toward the house.

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Whatever those two were doing together, it wasn’t his problem.

What mattered now was getting Amanda to leave.

The sooner, the better.

He had a war to prepare for.

And there was no room for distractions.

Not now.

Not until every last one of them was dead.