Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 115: Small World

Liam lay flat on his back, staring up at the darkening sky.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath burning as it went down. His ribs ached where

Damian’s punches had landed clean.

His arms felt like dead weight, sprawled out on either side of him.

Every part of his body was screaming at him to stay down and not move for at least an hour.

Sweat soaked through his shirt, cold against his skin now that he’d stopped moving.

He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, slowly starting to settle.

A few feet away, Damian sat with his back against the warehouse wall, one knee up, breathing hard through his nose.

Sweat dripped down his face, and his hoodie clung to him, soaked through completely.

His chest heaved with each breath, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

Neither of them had said anything for the past minute.

The only sounds were their breathing and the distant hum of traffic from the main road.

Shay stood off to the side, arms crossed, leaning against the chain-link fence.

He was watching them both with something that looked like amusement, a faint grin playing on his lips.

Finally, he checked his watch and pushed off the fence. "Alright. It’s six o clock. You guys have been at this for hours."

Liam turned his head slightly to look at Shay but didn’t move otherwise. His neck protested even that small movement.

"Both of you actually learned something from each other," Shay continued, walking closer. "That’s progress."

Damian let out a short breath that might’ve been a laugh. "Yeah. We learned that we can never get along."

Liam groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing as his ribs protested. "I hate to agree with the concept he’s going with, but he’s right."

Shay grinned wider. "Nonsense. You guys are becoming closer. I can tell."

"You’re delusional," Damian said flatly, not even looking at him.

Liam managed to sit up fully, rolling his shoulders and immediately regretting it. "Again, I’m with Damian."

"See?" Shay said, gesturing at them both. "You’re already agreeing on things twice. That’s friendship right there."

Damian scoffed and pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his joggers. "If this is friendship, I’d rather have enemies."

Liam stood up too, slower, his legs shaky.

He bent down to grab his water bottle from where he’d left it near the warehouse wall and drank half of it in one go.

The cool water helped, but not much.

Before anyone could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed from the far side of the lot.

Liam turned his head, water bottle still in hand.

Two figures were walking toward them, cutting across the cracked asphalt.

The first was impossible to miss.

A guy with a bright red mohawk that stood up at least six inches, spiked and styled with what looked like an excessive amount of gel.

He was wearing a black leather jacket covered in patches and metal studs, ripped jeans that looked deliberately torn, and heavy combat boots that thudded against the ground with each step.

He walked with the kind of swagger that said he owned every room he entered, his hands in his pockets, a cocky grin already plastered on his face.

The second figure was more subdued.

Dressed in a simple gray t-shirt and dark jeans, clean-cut, with shorter hair that was neatly combed to the side.

He had the kind of face that could blend into a crowd easily. Forgettable if you weren’t paying attention.

But Liam was paying attention.

His eyes locked onto the second guy, and recognition hit him like a punch to the gut.

The detective.

The one who’d asked Grace out right in front of him at the police station.

Liam’s grip tightened on the water bottle.

The detective’s eyes met Liam’s, and for a split second, something flickered across his face.

Recognition.

His steps faltered just slightly, so briefly that anyone not watching closely would’ve missed it.

But Liam saw it.

Neither of them said anything.

The detective’s expression smoothed out almost immediately, going neutral again as he kept walking.

’What the hell is a detective doing with a gang leader? Undercover, maybe? Has to be. And now he’s seen me.’

Liam looked away quickly, his jaw tightening. He took another sip of water to give himself something to do.

Shay, meanwhile, had gone from relaxed to annoyed in the span of a second.

His arms dropped to his sides, and his whole posture shifted. Tense. Ready.

"What the hell are you doing here, Hawk?" Shay’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

The guy with the mohawk, Hawk, stopped a few feet away and grinned wider. "Nice to see you too, Shay." His voice was loud, confident, dripping with sarcasm. "And I don’t like that tone you’re using with me."

"That’s the only way you’ll get something into that thick skull of yours," Shay shot back without missing a beat.

Hawk’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened. "Always so hostile. You’d think after all this time, you’d be happy to see me."

"I’m never happy to see you."

Damian had gotten to his feet and was now standing beside Shay, arms crossed, watching Hawk with the same unimpressed expression he always had.

He didn’t look particularly concerned, but his posture said he was ready if things went sideways.

Liam stayed where he was, leaning against the warehouse wall, trying not to draw attention to himself.

His body was still aching, and the last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever this was.

He leaned slightly toward Damian, keeping his voice low. "Who is this guy?"

Damian didn’t look at him, but he answered quietly, just loud enough for Liam to hear.

"Hawk. He runs a rival crew on the south side. Used to be friends with Shay back in the day. Then Shay took his girl. Now they’re mortal enemies."

Liam blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"I didn’t take his girl," Shay protested loudly, clearly having heard. "She chose me."

Hawk laughed, a loud, barking sound that echoed across the lot. "Nah. You stole her, Shay. Don’t rewrite history just because it makes you look bad."

Shay’s expression darkened. "I’m not having this conversation with you. Why are you here?"

Hawk gestured lazily to the detective beside him. "Showing the new recruit around. Letting him know what kind of enemies he should keep an eye on. You know, the usual orientation stuff."

Shay looked at him like he was the dumbest person alive. "Did you not hear what’s going on in town?"

Hawk shrugged, his grin never fading. "Yeah, I did. Some killer going around murdering gangs in the night. Leaving no one alive to tell the tales." He wiggled his fingers in a mocking ghost gesture. "Booo. Scary."

Shay rubbed his temples like he was physically trying to hold back his frustration. "Alright. You’re not unaware. But you’re still a complete idiot."

Hawk’s grin faded slightly, and he pointed a finger at Shay. "Watch it, Shay."

"Why are you getting mad?" Shay said, stepping forward. His voice was rising now. "If you were actually using that head of yours, you wouldn’t be gathering recruits right now. Not when no one knows what this guy looks like or how he operates. You’re painting targets on their backs."

Hawk laughed again, louder this time. "That’s where you’re wrong, Shay. The reason those other crews got wiped out? They didn’t have enough men. That’s what I’m fixing. Numbers. Simple."

Shay put his hand over his face and let out a long, frustrated breath. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"You don’t get it," Shay said, his voice muffled by his hand. "This guy isn’t normal. Whatever plan you’ve got about increasing manpower isn’t going to work. He’s not going to get overwhelmed by numbers. He’s going to slaughter them."

"That’s bullshit," Hawk said, his tone dismissive.

"I’m telling you, it won’t work."

"If my numbers aren’t enough, I’ll just get more," Hawk said, spreading his hands like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You throw enough bodies at a problem, eventually it gets solved. That’s basic strategy."

Shay stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and disgust. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

Hawk shrugged. "You’re one to talk. You’re out here recruiting and training someone too." He gestured vaguely at Liam.

Shay scratched the back of his head nervously, glancing away. "That’s not exactly what’s happening."

Hawk’s eyes narrowed. "Why the hell are you acting all weird?"

Shay hesitated, his hand still on the back of his head. Then he glanced at Liam.

Hawk followed his gaze.

For a moment, Hawk just stared at Liam, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

Then his eyes widened.

"Wait," Hawk said slowly, pointing at Liam. "That kid is the new Berserk leader?"

The detective’s eyes had widened fractionally when Hawk said "Berserk leader," and his mouth had parted slightly before he caught himself. His shoulders had tensed, and for just a moment, he’d looked like someone who’d just had the ground pulled out from under them.

Liam straightened up, pushing off the wall. He opened his mouth to let it go, then stopped.

Actually, he couldn’t let that slide.

"They’re not called that anymore," Liam said.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Hawk blinked.

Then he burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained, doubling over slightly. "Oh my god. How the hell did that kid even beat someone like you?" He looked at Shay, still laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "You’re an embarrassment, Shay. Losing to this guy. This skinny little—"

"Why don’t you try fighting him and see if he’s worth it?" Shay interrupted, his voice calm but with an edge to it. Like he was setting a trap.

Hawk stopped laughing.

He looked at Liam, then back at Shay, clearly considering it.

His eyes traveled over Liam, sizing him up.

Then he shook his head and waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. It’s just going to be too easy." He turned to the detective beside him. "You fight him instead."

The detective’s eyes widened, and his whole body went stiff. "Wait, what? I’m just new. I barely know how to—"

"Are you going to be useful to us or not?" Hawk interrupted, his tone sharp now. "Show me you won’t back out of a fight when it matters."

The detective’s jaw tightened.

His eyes flicked to Liam for just a second, and something unreadable passed across his face.

Then he sighed, long and resigned, and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. Fine."

He stepped forward, his boots scraping against the asphalt.

Liam pushed himself fully off the wall, ignoring the protests from his ribs and arms.

The detective stopped a few feet away and looked at Liam.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The tension in the air was thick.

Then the detective spoke quietly, just loud enough for Liam to hear. "Small world." His expression hardened. "I’m going to beat your ass."

Liam blinked, caught off guard by the sudden hostility.

’What the hell? Where did that come from?’

The detective’s tone had gone from neutral to aggressive in a heartbeat, and Liam couldn’t figure out why.

The detective raised his hands, settling into a basic stance.

Liam did the same, his body screaming at him to sit back down.

But he didn’t.