Chapter 254: Chapter 254 New Era I

The thick scent of tobacco wafted into the room before Boss even stepped through the doorway. His silhouette was outlined against the warm light behind him, the burning ember of the cigar in his mouth glowing faintly. He walked in with the same unbothered swagger he always carried, dressed in his long black robe, its crimson lining barely brushing the tiled floor. His single visible eye scanned the luxurious lounge with detached indifference, while the eyepatch covering the other added to his menacing, enigmatic presence.

Chief Josh was already waiting.

He was tense. Very tense.

And it wasn’t just because of Boss’s surprise invitation. It was the unpredictability of it all. They hadn’t made contact in nearly a year, an agreement that had kept both of their positions stable and relatively undisturbed. For Boss to summon him now, and with no advance warning, meant something serious was brewing.

So the moment Boss entered, Josh exploded.

“What the fuck is this, Boss?!” Josh barked, standing up and shrugging the woman’s hands off his shoulders. His drink nearly spilled from the sudden movement. “We had a deal. No sudden meetings, no exposure. You wanna burn everything down now? You trying to get me killed or what?”

Boss didn’t even blink. He let out a lazy puff of smoke, letting the gray cloud drift upward and vanish toward the ceiling. “Sit down, Josh. Quit bitching. I’ve got business for you.”

Josh glared at him. “Business? What kind of business justifies breaking the one fucking rule that’s kept our alliance from blowing up in our faces?”

Boss took another drag from his cigar before answering. “I know you’ve been getting heat from your people. The murders. The chaos. All those crime scenes painted in blood. The name.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed. “What name?”

“The Nightcrawler.”

The moment the word left Boss’s mouth, Josh sat back down, his posture rigid now. That name had been like a plague across the department. A whisper at first, then a rumor, then a citywide manhunt. The police had spent months trying to catch a glimpse of the killer known as the Nightcrawler. Nothing. No leads. No witnesses. Just bodies and that same name smeared in blood.

“What about the Nightcrawler?” Josh asked carefully, suspicion in his voice.

Boss smiled and walked further into the room. He dropped onto one of the armchairs like a king lounging in his court. “What if I told you I know who it is?”

Josh’s face twisted. Then, he started laughing. Loudly. Mockingly.

“Are you playing with me right now? Do you think I’m a fucking rookie? You know how much we’ve spent tracking the Nightcrawler? Every resource, every favor, every backdoor lead? And you’re telling me, what? You just know who it is?”

“Oh, I do,” Boss said with absolute calm. He reached into his robe and pulled out a slim tablet. With a few swipes, he turned it toward Josh and hit play.

Josh leaned in.

The screen lit up with a dark alley. Rain pounded the concrete. A young couple—civilian, innocent—was running, terrified, screaming. Then a figure appeared.

Liam.

Without hesitation, Liam stabbed both victims with brutal efficiency. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t speak. Just slaughtered them. Blood splattered the walls and pavement. Then he knelt, dipped his fingers in the blood, and wrote one word across the floor in big, red strokes:

Nightcrawler.

Josh’s face turned white. He didn’t blink as he stared at the video. When it ended, he slowly stood up.

“Is this real?” he asked, his voice suddenly low, almost shaken.

Boss leaned back with a smirk. “Of course not.”

Josh looked at him, stunned.

“But that,” Boss continued smoothly, “is a video no programming software on Earth can find fault in. Not even your top digital forensics unit could identify it as fake. Deep fake? AI-generated? Doesn’t matter. It’s clean. Perfect.”

Josh slumped back into his seat, mind spinning.

“Why would you show me this?”

Boss crushed the end of his cigar into the ashtray on the side table. “Because you’re desperate, Josh. Your bosses want results. They want a face. They want blood.”

Josh remained silent.

“And I’m giving you a golden ticket. Pin it on Liam. Make him your fall guy. Every officer in the force already views him as a time bomb. Now they’ll have the perfect reason to hunt him down. You’ll be hailed as the man who brought the Nightcrawler’s identity to light.”

“And what do you want in return?” Josh asked, finally recovering his composure.

Boss stood up and walked to the liquor cabinet, helping himself to a glass. He poured slowly, savoring the silence. Then he turned back to Josh.

“When the city erupts, I need police blind spots. Controlled chaos. Let me operate without interference. You can look like the hero, I get my moves done. We both win.”

Josh clenched his fists. His conscience screamed, but the political weight crushing his shoulders was unbearable.

Boss raised the glass in a mock toast. “To survival.”

Liam returned to Lilith’s apartment just, the faint sunlight brushing the city skyline. But inside the apartment, the wreckage from the earlier chaos remained untouched. Shattered glass littered the floor, the scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, and broken furniture lay like scattered corpses after a battlefield.

He stepped over a shattered bottle, his eyes sweeping across the mess with a quiet exhale. It was silent, save for a faint voice coming from her room. Liam’s gaze sharpened, and he moved toward Lilith’s room.

Inside, the scene was calmer but no less serious. Lilith sat at the edge of the bed, her bare shoulder wrapped in a bloodied cloth. Lana was beside her, dabbing gently at a bruise with a soaked cotton pad. Though much of the blood was wiped clean, dark marks lingered beneath her skin. Despite her injuries, Lilith’s expression was stoic. She barely flinched with each press.

Lana’s head turned the moment Liam entered. Her eyes brightened in relief, and she quickly stood up. “Where did you go?” she asked, the concern clear in her tone.

Liam didn’t hide anything. “I went to wreck havoc in the Crimson Hand’s base,” he said casually.

Lilith’s head jerked toward him, eyes narrowing as she reached for a black shirt nearby. Despite the pain, she pulled it over her shoulder and stood to face him.

“I told you not to cause trouble,” she said sharply, wincing as the fabric grazed her wounds.

Liam met her gaze calmly, his voice flat. “No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

There was a long pause. Lilith’s eyes searched his face. Then, without a word, she stepped closer, rose on her toes, and kissed him. Her lips met his firmly, but not aggressively. Liam stood frozen for a second, caught off guard by the gesture. Her lips were warm and soft against his own, her hand lightly brushing his side.

He blinked slowly, taken aback by the intimacy, the unexpected tenderness. Her eyes remained closed until Lana loudly cleared her throat.

“Ahem. Still here,” Lana said with a mischievous grin.

Lilith broke the kiss with a smirk, turning around slowly. “Oops,” she said playfully.

Liam blinked again, then let out a breath as he shook his head slightly.

Lilith turned back to him, crossing her arms despite the strain it caused her shoulder. “That face,” she said.

“What face?” Liam asked.

“That one,” Lilith replied, her tone teasing. “You always make that face when something’s bothering you.”

Lana laughed softly, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “She’s got you pegged,” she said as she leaned back against the wall.

Liam sighed. “Maybe.”

The humor drained from his expression slowly, replaced by a more thoughtful look. He looked between both of them before speaking again.

“I think there might be real trouble coming.”

Lilith’s smile faded. Lana stood up straighter. “What kind of trouble?”

Liam crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “When I attacked the Crimson Hand base today, one of their people turned into a werewolf.”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

Lana’s eyes widened. “Wait… like a full transformation? Fur, claws, the whole thing?”

Liam nodded. “Exactly that. It felt like the legends. He grew fur, claws, fangs… got way stronger and faster. And he wasn’t some mindless beast either. He followed orders. He fought with control.”

Lilith sat down slowly, her hand unconsciously going to her bruised side. “So the Crimson Hand is experimenting with exogen enhancements… or worse.”

“Yeah,” Liam said darkly. “It felt different. Like… something ancient. The system even recognized him. Gave me a stat boost when I killed him.”

Lilith’s head snapped up. “Wait, the system rewarded you?”

“Yeah. +5 to all stats. It called him a ’lesser wolf’.”

Lilith exchanged a look with Lana. “That confirms it. He wasn’t human anymore. That means the Crimson Hand has found a way to create—or control—beings outside the standard evolution of the exogen gene.”

Lana folded her arms, unease clear in her body language. “So what? They’re breeding monsters now?”

Liam shook his head. “I don’t think it’s breeding. I think it’s… transformation. He drank something. A little bottle. That’s what triggered the change.”

Lilith’s brows furrowed in concentration. “If they’re producing a formula that can forcibly mutate someone into something like that… the city’s in more danger than we thought.”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed. “And I don’t think it was just some random grunt. That guy was leading the rest. He was in charge. That means the formula’s been tested and is being trusted in command hands.”

Lana paced slowly near the wall. “So what do we do?”

Lilith ran her fingers through her hair, wincing as she brushed a sore spot. “We need to get ahead of this.”

Lana nodded. “Then we work fast. We gather intel, trace that formula, find out where it came from and how many more they’ve made.”

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