CHAPTER 307: CHAPTER 307 BREAKING IN

Vanessa crossed her arms and stared at the screen. "We need to look for a weak target first. Someone who won’t raise any alarms if we snoop around."

Liam adjusted his position, his arms folded. "You already have someone in mind, don’t you?"

Vanessa nodded and tapped on the keyboard. A profile popped up on the main screen.

"His name is Arthur Collins," she said flatly.

Dickson leaned in. Liam took a step closer and studied the data pulled up on the guy. There wasn’t much. He was in his early fifties, managed a small group of businesses: two laundromats, three mid-range restaurants scattered across the city. Family money was keeping him afloat more than anything else. No military background, no advanced security records, no major affiliations that would make him dangerous. Just another rich man who got lucky with inheritance.

"He looks soft," Liam said.

"Real soft," Dickson added with a smirk, cracking his knuckles. "So that’s our guy? When are we heading out?"

Liam turned to look at Dickson with a deadpan expression. "We?"

Dickson clicked his tongue and pointed toward Vanessa. "Well yeah. You’re sick. Somebody’s gotta have her back, and between you and me, I don’t mind the view."

Vanessa shot him a hard stare. "I’m going alone."

"The hell you are," Liam said, folding his arms again. "You’re not walking into any unknown situation alone. I’m going. That’s not up for discussion."

Vanessa sighed and rubbed her temple. "You can barely stand straight."

"I’ve stood through worse."

Dickson threw his hands up. "Fine, both of you go. Don’t come back in body bags."

Liam looked at Vanessa. She knew arguing wasn’t going to change anything. His stubbornness was unmatched. "Go get dressed," she muttered.

Liam nodded and turned, walking toward the shower room. Vanessa turned back to the screen to get more data on Arthur’s property while Dickson started chewing a protein bar like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Fifteen minutes later, Liam returned, dressed in fresh casual clothes—black jeans, clean boots, and a charcoal grey long-sleeve shirt. His hair was slightly wet from the shower, but he looked sharp and clear-eyed. Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"You’re going to break into someone’s house dressed like that?"

"If I’m getting caught, I want to at least look like I don’t belong in prison."

Vanessa scoffed and pulled her hoodie tighter over her head. "Fine. Just don’t blow our cover."

"No promises."

As they headed outside, Dickson tossed two earpieces at them. "Comms. Linked up with her system. And Vanessa, you’ve got a cam in your earbud too. Don’t scratch it or I’ll lose visuals."

"Got it," she said, inserting the comm and adjusting her hood.

They stepped into the garage behind the factory. Liam looked around, expecting Vanessa to walk over to one of the cars. Instead, she walked past every single vehicle and pulled a black tarp off something in the far corner.

When Liam saw what she uncovered, he raised both eyebrows.

It was a custom-built motorcycle—sleek, matte black with heavy plating on the sides and slim red LED lights that ran across the edge like glowing veins. The front looked armored, the wheels were thick and rugged, clearly made for both speed and off-road durability. Twin exhausts were angled like they were built to boost flames. It looked like it had come straight out of a military lab—clean, brutal, and silent.

"This yours?" Liam asked.

Vanessa threw a leg over the bike and put on her helmet. "It’s not for show."

Liam glanced around again. "I don’t see mine."

Vanessa chuckled. "Because you’re riding with me. Hop on."

Liam stared at her blankly for a second, then grabbed a helmet and got on the back. "I’m not hugging you." That would be embarrassing.

"I don’t need you to. Just don’t fall off."

The moment he sat behind her, he realized just how warm his body felt. The sickness was creeping in slowly again, weighing down his muscles. But it wasn’t enough to stop him.

Vanessa revved the engine once, and it barely made a sound—just a low growl. Then the bike shot out of the garage like a bullet.

As they sped through the alleyway toward the city streets, Vanessa kept her focus straight ahead. But Liam noticed the tension in her shoulders. She wasn’t saying anything, but she doubt it will be easy. Arthur may have looked like an easy target on paper, but anyone tied to the Crimson Hand was dangerous by default.

Vanessa reached for the comms. "Dickson, you seeing this?"

"Crystal clear," came his voice in their ears. "This is so much better than Netflix. Don’t get killed."

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Shut up and stay alert. If something goes sideways, let us know, I have his entire house under wrap, any silent alarms will be received by you if triggered."

"I’ll have something ready," Dickson replied. "But try not to mess up the target before we get information."

Vanessa didn’t reply. Her eyes were already scanning the map displayed on the small HUD in her helmet. They were closing in on Arthur’s residence.

The bike weaved through traffic effortlessly. Liam’s grip on the bike was firm, and he leaned with her on every turn, every sharp bend.

Arthur’s mansion came into view, a tall, two-story structure surrounded by a metal fence. The guards were scattered across the yard, pacing slowly with rifles slung over their shoulders. Nothing too heavy, Liam noted. Mostly hired muscles, probably didn’t even know how to fire those guns properly. No cameras on the east wing either. Sloppy.

Vanessa peered over the fence, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Then she saw it—a thick tree with plenty of leaves, casting a shadow near the mansion’s side wall. It was a perfect blind spot.

Without warning, she grabbed Liam by the wrist.

"Wait—" was all he managed before—

Wham.

The world spun.

In less than a second, they reappeared behind the tree shielded by leaves. The disorienting shift in reality hit Liam hard. His gut twisted, and he nearly threw up on the spot. He yanked the helmet off his head and dropped it to the ground.

Thunk!

Vanessa blinked fast, caught it and disappeared.

In an instant, she reappeared outside the fence again, walked to the motorcycle, and set it down calmly. Then, she teleported back beside him.

She gave Liam a hard stare. "Are you trying to blow our cover before we even start?"

"My bad," Liam muttered, still holding his stomach. "Just... warn me next time.... Well, take us inside"

she said flatly. "I can’t take us inside."

Liam frowned. "Why not?"

Dickson’s voice came through the comm. "I think she needs to see where she’s going to teleport."

Vanessa nodded once. Dickson was right.

Liam exhaled slowly and whispered into the comm, "Are you sure you’re not high, Dickson? You’ve been making sense lately."

On the other side, Dickson stopped chewing whatever snack he had. Then he chuckled. "It’s not hard to be the smartest one when you’re in a room full of idiots. You’re just slow, Liam."

Liam’s brow twitched. He let it slide.

They crouched on the branch for a while, waiting for the guards to rotate and expose a gap. Time passed slowly. Then finally, an opening. The guards moved around the corner, leaving the front path exposed.

"Now," Liam said.

Wham.

They appeared at the front door instantly. Vanessa wasted no time. She picked the lock in seconds. The door clicked open.

They slipped inside silently.

The sitting room was large and dimly lit. Expensive furniture filled the space—deep brown leather couches with golden studs along the armrests, a polished glass center table reflecting the ceiling chandelier above, and dark red curtains pulled halfway over tall windows. The wallpaper was a faded gold color, giving the room a strange mix of old wealth and neglect. A few framed paintings hung along the walls, but none looked expensive. Just a rich man trying to look cultured.

A wine shelf stood against the far wall, half-filled with bottles. Two of them looked tampered with. Liam’s eyes didn’t miss that. Someone had been here recently.

Vanessa motioned for him to stay quiet. She moved quickly across the room, checking for security sensors. Nothing. Just a motion detector in the corner. She slipped a blocker from her hoodie pocket and aimed it at the sensor. A soft beep. Disabled.

Liam stepped beside her and whispered, "This guy’s setup is sloppy."

"No kidding," she muttered. "Even Dickson could’ve done better."

"Now that’s a low bar."

Vanessa cracked the faintest smile. Then she pointed toward the hallway.

"We check the study and the bedroom," she said.

"Why the study?"

"Where else do dumb rich guys hide secrets?"

Liam followed closely behind as they crept down the corridor. The place smelled faintly of cologne and stale air. At the far end was a door—closed, painted to match the walls. Vanessa signaled him to wait as she placed her ear against it. Silence.

She reached for the handle and slowly turned it.

Click.

They slipped inside.

But this was no study.

Instead, the room had rows of files, physical papers stacked in locked cabinets. The walls were lined with file drawers, and a laptop sat open on the desk with a single line of code blinking on the screen.

Vanessa’s brows rose. "Who the hell still uses paper?"

She started toward the cabinet while Liam checked the laptop. It wasn’t locked. No passwords. Just a terminal with access logs. A few crypto wallet addresses were listed, all traced back to recent transactions. Vanessa flipped through some files and pulled one with the guy’s name.

"He’s dirtier than he looks," she muttered. "Shell companies, fake invoices."