Chapter 125 - 126 Liam’s Terror III
His pajamas hung loose and tattered, stained in patches of blood. The night air was thick with smoke, gunpowder, and the coppery scent of death. Yet none of it seemed to bother him. Not even the pain. Not even the chaos.
He walked forward, his blood-streaked face calm, expressionless, as his eyes locked on the group of Crimson Hand men who had shot Lilith. His steps were slow, deliberate. Purposeful.
One of them turned, eyes widening. "Shit," the man whispered.
Liam raised his rifle, took aim—
Click.
The empty chamber echoed louder than any explosion. No more bullets.
Liam’s jaw clenched as he tossed the rifle aside. His walk didn’t stop. He was already shifting his weight, moving into the first target. The nearest man tried to raise his weapon, but Liam was faster—he grabbed the rifle and smashed it across the man’s face. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed.
Another man shouted, lifting his gun to fire. Liam didn’t flinch. He leapt at him, grabbing the knife tucked into the man’s boot mid-air. The moment he landed, he drove it across the man’s throat in one smooth, vicious motion. The spray of blood painted the ground as the man collapsed, gurgling.
The rest began firing, but Liam was already on the move again.
He grabbed the dying man with the cut throat and pulled him upright, using his limp body as a shield. Bullets tore through the corpse’s back, but Liam stayed behind it, patient.
Braaat.