Chapter 94: Chapter 94 4 Of 4

Liam jumped down from the table as the girls all slowly stood up, their wide eyes filled with disbelief and fear. The silence that followed the gunfire was almost deafening, the only sounds left were the heavy breathing of the women and the faint groans of the dying men. The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood. Luckily, none of the girls had been hit. Not that Liam had cared—his focus had been on one thing alone: eliminating every single enemy in the room. Collateral damage had never crossed his mind.

Amanda’s head popped out from behind a table, her eyes scanning the masked figure who had just saved them. But it was obvious that she did not recognize him. How could she? The man before them looked like something out of a nightmare—clad in black, armed to the teeth, and carrying himself with a lethal air. If anything, he looked like a terrorist or a masked executioner sent to wipe out the scum in this place. He didn’t even glance at her, not even for a second.

Instead, Liam methodically reloaded his guns, sliding fresh magazines into his pistols and securing them back into place. He checked the AR-15, making sure it was locked and loaded before slinging it over his back. Then, with the same mechanical precision, he walked towards one of the men still gasping for air on the floor.

The guy was covered in bullet wounds, his body trembling as he struggled to breathe. His eyes darted around in terror, knowing his end was near. Liam crouched beside him, watching him like one would watch an insect squirming underfoot. There was no mercy in his gaze—none of them deserved it. These people had ruined countless lives, stained their hands with blood and suffering.

With a voice as cold as death itself, Liam muttered, “Blame your boss for messing with my woman.”

BAM!

The gunshot echoed in the basement, silencing the last of the struggling men. Liam stood up, his steps mechanical as he turned and walked away. The girls, seeing their chance, scrambled to their feet and began searching for the men cellphones. A few of them frantically dialed numbers, calling the police, hoping for proper rescue. Some of them, naively, thought that perhaps Liam would stay and protect them until the authorities arrived.

Liam scoffed under his breath. “Idiots.”

He had no interest in babysitting. His job was done. He had gotten what he came for. Whatever happened next was none of his concern.

Amanda remained frozen in place, her eyes locked onto the masked figure. There was something eerily familiar about him, something she couldn’t quite place. She knew she had never seen him before, but at the same time, it felt as if she had. The way he moved, the way he carried himself—it stirred something in her memory. Yet, before she could figure it out, he was gone.

As Liam stepped out of the building, a glowing blue screen appeared before his eyes.

[Mission: Destroy the Crimson Hand Brothels – 1/4 Completed.]

He frowned, his jaw clenching in irritation. “This wasn’t even a damn brothel,” he muttered.

The system really was something else, He had just wiped out a drug operation, not a brothel, yet somehow the system counted it toward the mission. At this point, he didn’t even care. The only thing that mattered was whether the system would actually give him a decent reward when this was all over.

With a deep breath, he glanced back at the building one last time, then shook his head. He had wasted enough time here. There were still three more to go.

Without another word, Liam disappeared into the night, leaving behind the chaos, the bodies, and the confused looks of the survivors. The mission wasn’t over yet.

Liam stood before a large, shadowy warehouse, its silhouette looming like a sleeping beast beneath the moonlight. The air was quiet, too quiet. He stared at the glowing interface of the system that hovered before his eyes.

[Mission: Destroy the Crimson Hand Brothels – 3/4 Completed]

He narrowed his eyes at the number. Three down. One more to go. But this place—was it the final brothel or just another lab?

“So far, all three have been cocaine labs,” he muttered under his breath. “No women chained, no disgusting clients… Just chemicals and powder.”

He sighed as he wiped sweat from his brow. “Rick… even in death, you still lied to me.” His voice was calm but laced with bitterness. “All you gave me were the drug labs. Not a single brothel. What a pain in the ass.”

He knew the Crimson Hand made massive profits from their brothels—underground operations where they trafficked girls and ran high-class setups masked as clubs or spas. Finding them was not going to be easy now that his only lead was dead.

Liam stepped out of the car and slowly approached the edge of a cliff-like ridge overlooking the compound. His instincts kicked in. Lights. Movement. Too much movement.

He raised his binoculars and adjusted the focus.

“Tch…”

There were at least twenty armed men outside the warehouse, loitering around, laughing, smoking, and playing cards. But they weren’t relaxed—he noticed their guns were close, and a few kept glancing into the shadows.

“They’re waiting for me,” Liam muttered.

The thought was enough to furrow his brows.

“How did they know I was coming?”

But the answer was obvious. The police must have arrived at the earlier sites. Maybe even the second or third warehouse. There was no way this kind of chaos wouldn’t have reached the Crimson Hand’s ears by now. Hell, even the Black Lotus might have picked it up already.

He scoffed. “No point worrying about it now.”

Turning back, Liam opened his car boot and gazed at the Duffy bag.

“They think they’re ready,” he whispered. “Let’s see how ready they are.”

He pulled out the RPG launcher. Its cold, heavy frame felt comforting in his hands. Something about the sheer firepower of it made him smile. He removed the rocket from its casing and gently inserted it into the tube.

With the weapon prepped, he knelt behind a rocky outcrop and aimed, centering the group of men in his sight.

“Surprise,” he muttered.

Fwoooosh!

The rocket launched with a burst of fire and smoke, soaring through the air like a missile of judgment.

One of the Crimson Hand thugs looked up suddenly, eyes widening in terror.

“INCOMING!”

They scattered like ants, panicked and confused—but it was already too late.

BOOM!

The explosion lit up the night like a second sun. Fire bloomed across the front of the warehouse, shrapnel and debris flying in every direction. Bodies were flung backward. The ground shook, and the echo of the blast rolled like thunder through the night.

Through his binoculars, Liam watched the chaos unfold. The once calm and cocky guards were now reduced to burning silhouettes and mangled bodies. The fire from the blast crackled loudly, consuming everything in its path.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t flinch. His expression was carved from stone, his blue eyes cold and unreadable.

“That’s one way to knock,” he said quietly, slinging the RPG over his back.

Smoke rose into the night sky, the warehouse now partially in ruins and set ablaze in some sections. The survivors screamed, scrambled, shouted for backup—but their panic was all music to Liam’s ears.

And he was just getting started.

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