CHAPTER 312: CHAPTER 312 RAMPAGE II

Arthur slowly rose from the wreckage of the crushed van. His body was cracked, steaming, and streaked with blood and ash. He groaned, trying to understand what had just happened. But before he could even fully stand, he looked up—and saw Liam dropping from the sky like a missile.

Booooom!

Liam’s fist slammed into Arthur’s chest again with brutal force. Arthur managed to raise one arm in a panic to block, but the moment Liam’s knuckles collided with it, the arm exploded from the sheer impact. Magma and rock scattered in the air. Arthur screamed as his body was drilled into the street, driven deep into the concrete. A wide crater formed under the impact, sending chunks of asphalt flying in every direction.

Liam landed right after him, his feet cracking the ground as he descended into the crater.

He glanced around.

No flames. No heat. No movement.

Everything had gone quiet.

He furrowed his brows. A hit like that should’ve ended it. There was no way anyone could still be breathing after being smashed into the ground like that.

But then he heard it—faint, ragged breathing coming from under a slab of broken concrete. Liam narrowed his eyes and walked over to it. He reached down and lifted the slab like it was nothing.

Arthur lay there.

His molten appearance was gone. His skin was bare and human again. Blood covered his body, and one of his arms was completely missing at the shoulder. His chest rose and fell with short, painful gasps. His face was pale, his lips trembling.

"P-Please," Arthur choked out, coughing violently. "I-I didn’t k-know... cough cough. They only said... it would boost my stamina... and strength..."

His voice cracked as he coughed again, trying to hold himself up with what was left of his strength.

Liam stared at him. No emotion in his eyes. No pity. Just cold silence.

He reached down and grabbed Arthur by the neck, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Arthur’s legs kicked weakly beneath him, his face twisting in panic.

Liam tightened his grip, about to break his neck right then and there.

But he stopped.

He looked up at the edge of the crater, then leapt out in one swift motion, still gripping Arthur tightly.

When he landed back on the street, he dragged Arthur across the pavement toward one of the fires still burning nearby. Arthur saw the direction they were heading and began to struggle.

"No—no, please!" he cried, voice breaking. "Don’t—don’t do this! I didn’t know! I swear, I didn’t—"

Liam didn’t stop.

Arthur clawed at his chest with his remaining hand, tried to grab the ground, but he was too weak to fight back. His body was broken, and the fire was just ahead.

"Please!" he screamed. "I’m sorry!"

Liam didn’t respond. He stopped at the edge of the flames, raised Arthur with one hand, and looked him dead in the eyes. No words. No hesitation. Just the final decision.

With a cold expression, Liam threw him into the fire.

Arthur screamed.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

His body lit up instantly. He thrashed in the flames, rolling and twisting, but there was no escape. His own fire, the same power he had used to kill others, was now devouring him.

The remaining civilians, those who had managed to run far enough to avoid the flames, paused at a distance and watched. No one screamed this time. No one cried out for help. They stood in silence as they watched Arthur burn. After what he had done, there was no sympathy left.

Suddenly, Arthur burst from the flames again. His body was still on fire, black and red and soaked in blood. He tried to run.

Liam didn’t flinch.

He stepped in and delivered a kick to Arthur’s chest so casually, it looked like nothing.

But the impact sent Arthur flying back into the fire.

He landed hard and didn’t get up again.

Liam stood there, watching in silence. The heat danced in front of his face, but he didn’t look away until he heard something in the distance.

Sirens.

He turned his head and saw them—multiple police cruisers racing toward the scene, lights flashing and tires screeching as they turned the corner at full speed.

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to kill cops.

He turned his head slightly and saw Vanessa standing some distance away, already watching him. He gave her a nod.

Without waiting for a reply, Liam leapt again.

One jump cleared the burning house.

The next leap carried him far beyond the street, disappearing from the crowd’s view entirely.

Back near the crowd, the girl wearing Liam’s jacket stood frozen, still shaken from everything that had happened. Her breathing was still shallow, her body trembling from the heat, smoke, and fear.

Then she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder.

She turned and saw Vanessa’s face, calm and steady.

Vanessa gave her a small grin.

"You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?"

And with that, they vanished.

———

Vanessa teleported directly into the factory, one arm wrapped tightly around the girl’s waist as they appeared in a sudden flash of light.

Dickson was sitting in front of a monitor, watching the live news feed showing the aftermath of the mansion explosion. His eyes were wide. When the sudden burst of energy erupted behind him, he flinched and spun around too late.

"Shit!" he shouted as he stumbled backward, falling straight off his chair.

He hit the floor hard and scrambled up.

"It’s you!" he barked at Vanessa. "At least give me a warning next time!"

Vanessa didn’t answer. Her expression was cold, focused. She dragged the girl forward without a word and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from her box.

"Hey, what the hell is—"

Before the girl could finish, Vanessa slammed her wrist against the steel table at the center of the room and cuffed her to it with a loud click. The girl pulled back instinctively, but the cuff was already locked tight.

"Don’t bother trying to escape," Vanessa said flatly. "You won’t unlock that cuff, and the table is bolted to the floor."

The girl looked around, realizing quickly that she was in some kind of repurposed operations room. Monitors, blueprints, and radio equipment lined the walls. The air smelled like steel. She tried to tug again, but the table didn’t move an inch.

Vanessa finally turned to Dickson, her tone sharp.

"Where’s Liam?"

Dickson dusted himself off, annoyed.

"I should be asking you that," he said. "You’re the one who left with him."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes.

"So he hasn’t shown up here?"

"No," Dickson replied, shaking his head. "Not even a ping on comms."

Vanessa frowned and stepped away from the girl, pulling out her comm piece and tapping the side of it. Nothing. Only static.

Dickson moved closer to the monitors, checking the feeds again. Most of the crowd had dispersed from the mansion site. Emergency responders were on the scene. The media had arrived too.

— — —

Meanwhile, Liam landed quietly in front of a small house on a dimly lit street. The atmosphere was still, and the only sound was the distant hum of passing cars. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud, and he stood there for a second, collecting himself.

The house was modest. Clean. Curtains drawn. Porch light off.

He stepped forward and knocked on the door gently.

No response.

He knocked again. A little firmer this time.

Still nothing.

Then he heard it. A soft voice from inside.

"Give me a second."

His eyes softened.

Three seconds later, the door cracked open slowly, and Ann’s head appeared in the gap.

Her eyes locked with his.

She froze.

The words caught in her throat the moment she saw him. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Her heart jumped to her throat, and her hand gripped the doorknob tighter. It was the face she hadn’t seen in a while. The man she had tried to avoid. And now he was standing at her doorstep like a ghost that had finally found her.

"H-Hey," she finally managed, barely above a whisper.

There was no confidence in her voice. Just surprise. And nerves.

Liam smiled warmly.

"Can I come in?"

Ann blinked, trying to gather herself.

"Of course," she said, stumbling slightly as she pulled the door open wider. "Yeah. Yes, come in."

He stepped inside slowly, his boots brushing against the wooden floor. His eyes never left her. He didn’t look around. Didn’t take in the room. His gaze was completely fixed on her.

She stepped aside, brushing her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. Her breathing was uneven. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since the moment she saw his face.

Liam didn’t say anything at first. He just walked a few steps forward, then turned to face her again.

Ann closed the door behind them. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Just... tense.

The lights inside the house were soft. The living room was simple—small couch, clean floors, a folded blanket over one armrest. But none of that mattered right now. The only thing that filled the room was the weight of everything they hadn’t said.

Liam looked at her, eyes calm, voice steady.

"You look good."

Ann swallowed, unsure how to respond. She opened her mouth, then stopped herself.

"You too," she said quietly. "I... wasn’t expecting this."

"I needed to see you," Liam replied.