He couldn’t believe it, that Emily, the woman who held his hand when things got rough, who laughed with him under poor light bulbs at night, would treat him the same way the higher‑class citizens had always done.
No, she had to be lying. It had to be a sick joke. Liam’s body shook as he stepped closer. He only wanted to hold her shoulders to make her look at him straight, to ask again, to make her say it while looking into his eyes. Maybe then he’d believe. Maybe then he’d finally wake up. But before he could reach her, Benjamin moved. The manager’s jaw tightened, and in one quick motion he pushed Emily gently aside, mistaking Liam’s desperate move for an attack. Without hesitation, Benjamin’s leg swung forward a hard, brutal kick straight into Liam’s chest. The sound of it echoed through the office like thunder. Liam hit the floor instantly, the air knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot through his ribs, sharp and blinding. He coughed hard, and blood spilled from his mouth, dark and thick. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His chest screamed; his breath came short and broken. Through the pain, through the ringing in his ear, he managed to whisper weakly, voice shaking as blood touched the corner of his lips. “I… I was just trying to hold your hands.” Liam’s hands trembled against the cold floor as he tried to lift himself. His vision blurred in and out red, white, and shadow flickering together. Pain pulsed through his chest as he coughed again, this time harder, and a gush of blood spilled from his mouth, spreading like dark paint over the tiles. At that moment Benjamin’s angry voice cut through the air. “How dare you think of hurting Emily!” Without warning, his boot crashed into Liam’s ribs again. The blow sent Liam sliding across the floor, his body twisting before hitting the far side of the room with a dull thud. Blood burst from his nose and split his lip open; his head spun violently. For a fleeting moment, the world went black around the edges. The strength difference between them was cruelly clear. B‑level citizens didn’t just have wealth they had training. They were taught skills that bordered on the superhuman. Their bodies carried the power of advanced martial disciplines, modified with Some rare ancient potion, and other stuff, that normal men from E rank could only dream of. People like Liam those ranked at the bottom were never meant to stand against them. He was a laborer, an exhausted man who barely ate twice a day. How could he afford combat manuals, spiritual guides, or masters of power training? His life was work and hunger, not privilege and technique. He groaned, his breath ragged, and slowly lifted his arm toward Emily, his body trembling. His face was soaked with blood, and yet his voice came out soft, almost pleading. “Emily… Emily…” He stretched his hand out again, as if trying to touch her one last time, his eyes glassy, filled with disbelief. He was about to say her name again when something struck him. Emily’s heel. The kick hit the side of his face with brutal precision, and the impact lifted him halfway off the ground before sending him rolling helplessly to the center of the room. By the time he stopped, his body barely moved. He lay there, a few faint breaths escaping his mouth torn, shaking, broken. “I knew you were an animal!” Her words echoed sharply, slicing through the silence. “Animal.” The word hung in his head, repeating itself until it became a ringing tone, confirming every cruel truth she had confessed, It wasn’t just betrayal it was mockery. Everything she said was true. Every deception, every step of her plan. Liam couldn’t open his eyes fully anymore, but through the haze he heard the creak of the office door opening. Boots shuffled across the marble floor, voices murmuring softly outside. Then her voice came again, fierce and cold, roaring like someone who couldn’t stand his very existence. “Get this animal out of here and throw him on the main road.” Without wasting anymore time the two guards dragged Liam’s limp body down the hallway, his boots leaving faint streaks of blood across the polished floor. His head hung low, arms lifeless, breath shallow a man emptied of everything that kept him human. Mr Benjamin stood near his desk, arms folded across his chest, watching them leave with a crooked smile. “There’s no way he’ll survive that, because he hit him on his Life energy point” he said smoothly, adjusting his collar. “He’ll be dead before the day runs out.” Emily didn’t even glance at the disappearing figure of her husband. Her tone was detached, her face calm, as though she were commenting on the weather. “He’s an animal,” she muttered. “People like him shouldn’t even be walking the same streets as us. The government should’ve cleaned out their kind long ago they make the world unsafe for valuable citizens.” Benjamin chuckled quietly at that, the sound low and pleased. Outside, the guards heaved Liam into the back of a transport truck, his body flopping against the metal like a discarded sack. They drove out of the industrial zone, the wind cutting through the air, the sky dim with smoke from the nearby factories. A few minutes later, they stopped by the main road. Cars sped past pure, expensive, untouched by dust. Without hesitation, the guards dumped him onto the asphalt and drove off. Liam’s clothes the simple gray uniform of a miner, grimy and torn told everyone exactly who he was: an E‑class laborer. Disposable. An approaching vehicle saw the body from afar. For one small second, its emblem an insignia of the higher ranks flashed under the sun. The driver didn’t slow down. He didn’t even bother to press the brakes. The car hit him with a violent crash. The sound was dull, heavy, final. Liam’s body flew off the road, landing in a pile of trash beside a rusted metal bin. Blood trickled from his lips, his limbs twisted unnaturally. Any ordinary man would’ve died instantly. But there beneath the torn fabric of his mining uniform something began to glow. A faint light pulsed from the necklace that hung under his shirt, the crystal at its center coming alive with a slow, rhythmic shine. It grew hotter, bright enough to paint the shadows around him in flickering gold. Then the crystal began to melt its molten light sinking through his skin, disappearing into his chest as though the metal itself was being absorbed by his blood. Liam’s eyes flickered open for a heartbeat. A sound not from the world around him, but from inside his very mind echoed deep and ancient. “Your Ancestry Power has awakened. First power to be awakened....Immortality.”Latest Chapter
Chapter 216
Liam held her gaze."Your father's illness," he said, each word chosen with visible care, "was not coincidental. It was not something that simply happened out of nowhere, not a random medical event that struck without warning or reason. It was not natural." He paused to let that land. "What happened to your father was deliberate. It was man-made. Someone targeted him, specifically and intentionally, and what you witnessed, what the doctors treated, what your family has been dealing with, all of it was the result of something that was done to him by another person."The café seemed to fade slightly, the background noise receding as though someone had turned down the volume on the entire world except for the space immediately surrounding their table.Penelope did not blink."You are telling me," she said slowly, her voice very quiet and very controlled, "that someone poisoned my father.""I am telling you," Liam said, matching her tone, "that someone is actively targeting your father.
Chapter 215
The café around them continued its ordinary business, the low hum of conversation from other tables blending with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine and the quiet clink of ceramic against wood, all of it forming a backdrop of normalcy that felt increasingly incongruous with the weight of what was being discussed between them.Penelope sat very still.She had not moved since Liam had finished speaking, had not adjusted her posture or shifted her hands or done any of the small, unconscious things people do when they are processing difficult information. She was simply there, present and focused, her eyes on his face with the particular intensity of someone who is listening not just to the words being said but to everything underneath them, all the implications and connections and unspoken conclusions that live in the space between sentences.When she finally spoke, her voice was measured and careful, the voice of someone who is working very hard to remain logical in the face of
Chapter 214
Liam's expression did not change, but something in his eyes sharpened slightly, the way eyes sharpen when a person is preparing to deliver information they know is going to land badly."What if I told you," he said, his voice calm and measured, each word placed with deliberate care, "that it was Marcus who orchestrated all of this? That he was the one who reached out to the detectives, who provided them with the framing they needed to build a case around me, who positioned the investigation in such a way that I became the most convenient target?" He paused, letting the words settle. "What if I told you that your brother actively conspired to have me arrested for a crime I did not commit, and that the only reason it did not succeed was because I have resources he was not aware of and did not account for?"Penelope stared at him.For a long moment she did not move, did not blink, did not speak. Her mind was working, rapidly and urgently, pulling up everything she knew about her brother
Chapter 213
Penelope arrived first.She had driven faster than was strictly necessary, not out of panic but out of the specific urgency that comes from having spent hours in a state of heightened concern only to discover that the concern was misplaced, or at least differently placed than she had understood it to be. The relief of knowing that Liam was safe had not fully settled inside her yet. It was still moving around, looking for a place to land, tangled up with confusion and questions and the peculiar disorientation of realizing that a situation she thought she understood had been operating according to rules she had not been aware of.She parked, walked inside, scanned the interior, and found him almost immediately.Liam was seated near the back, at a small table positioned against the wall in a way that gave him a clear line of sight to the entrance. He was dressed simply, unremarkably, in a way that would allow him to blend seamlessly into any environment he chose to occupy. His posture
Chapter 212
The detective's silence lasted exactly long enough to tell Marcus everything he needed to know about the nature of what was coming next.It was not the silence of someone gathering the courage to lie. It was not the calculated pause of someone constructing a cover story on the fly, assembling pieces into a shape that would hold under scrutiny. It was something else. Something quieter and more unsettling than either of those things. It was the silence of someone who has seen something they did not expect to see and has not yet fully decided how much of it they are willing to describe out loud.Then the detective cleared his throat."I am going to be completely honest with you," he said, and his voice had changed from the careful, managed tone of their previous exchanges into something that sat considerably closer to the ground, stripped of its professional distance. "Nobody paid me. Nobody bribed me. No money changed hands, no favors were called in, no external pressure was applied in
Chapter 211
He ended the call.And sat in the silence of the car, turning the problem over, examining it from every angle available to him, looking for the place where it had broken.He could not find it.Which meant the information he had was insufficient. Which meant there was a piece of this that he was not seeing, a factor he had not accounted for, something that had reached into the investigation and pulled Liam out of it before the case could solidify around him.His phone rang.He looked at the screen.The detective.Marcus felt something cold move through him, something that was adjacent to relief but considerably darker, the specific sensation of a man who has been waiting for an answer and is now uncertain whether he wants to hear it.He answered."I just heard," Marcus said, before the detective could speak, his voice dropping into something quiet and dangerous. "I just heard that he has been released. And I want an explanation. Right now. A real one.""Marcus—""No." The word came out
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