THE LAST EXECUTOR SYSTEM OF FINAL JUDGMENT

Chapter Seven : Redwater Judgement

The night pressed heavy over the city, the storm clouds smothering the stars as if even the heavens refused to watch what was unfolding. Liam staggered from the alley where Marcus’s mocking voice still echoed in his skull. His knuckles throbbed with blood, his chest burned from the System’s warning, and his reflection in a shattered window looked less like a man and more like something half formed from fire and shadow. He tried to steady his breath, but the world seemed tilted, reality itself pressing down on him as though reminding him how thin the line was between judgement and damnation. The System had called it corruption. He didn’t need to be told what it meant. He had felt it the hunger in his bones, the satisfaction when Marcus bled beneath his fists, the urge to finish him not because it was right, but because it would feel good.

“Executor,” the voice hissed inside his skull, sharp as razors. “Balance must be maintained. Deviations risk termination.”

Liam pressed a hand against the wall, swallowing hard. “I’m not a monster,” he whispered, though the night offered no reassurance. He straightened, pulling his hood up, and walked until the neon of the main street broke the shadows. Cars swept past in blurs of white and red, people laughed outside bars, the ordinary hum of a city blissfully unaware of the war clawing at its underbelly. For a moment, he envied them. For a moment, he wanted to disappear among them. But the System didn’t allow rest.

His phone buzzed again. Clara. He hesitated, then answered, her voice spilling out like a fragile thread holding him to the world he used to know.

“Liam, I can’t stop worrying. I know you’re hiding something. I can feel it.”

He closed his eyes, leaning against a lamppost. “Clara, I’m fine. I promise you.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, her voice breaking. “There’s something in the news again shootings, fire, explosions. Every time I turn on the TV I wonder if you’re there. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not part of it.”

His throat locked. He wanted to tell her the truth, that he had become something else, that he was carrying the weight of justice on shoulders that weren’t strong enough. But the words froze, because once spoken, she could never go back. She’d never be safe.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow,” he said instead, voice low. “I’ll explain then. Just… hold on for me.”

There was silence, then a quiet, trembling, “Please don’t disappear, Liam.”

The line went dead. He stared at the phone until the screen dimmed, then slipped it back into his pocket with fingers that trembled more than they should. He didn’t have time to dwell. The System surged in his veins again, the cold tide of inevitability.

“Target marked,” it intoned. “Redwater Docks. Corruption level: extreme.”

Liam cursed under his breath. Redwater. A cancer in the city’s veins. If Marcus was regrouping, that’s where he’d be. Liam flagged down a cab, sliding into the back seat without a word. The driver eyed his bruises but said nothing, only turned up the radio and let the rain-smeared city rush past.

By the time the cab rolled to a stop near the rusted gates of Redwater, the storm had thinned to a drizzle, mist curling off the water like breath from a dying god. The docks sprawled before him, a graveyard of hulking ships and forgotten containers. He could taste the rot of salt and oil, hear the clink of chains swaying in the damp air. Shadows moved between the stacks, voices low, the metallic gleam of guns catching the faint light.

Liam pulled his hood tighter and moved silently, boots splashing in shallow puddles. The System guided his steps, sharpening every sound, every flicker of movement, until the world was painfully clear. He saw them: men in heavy jackets clustered around crates, rifles slung, laughter harsh. Behind them, a container gaped open, and inside, cages. Women and children huddled together, eyes wide with terror, their silence louder than screams.

Liam’s hands curled into fists. His heart pounded. He felt the fire in him swell, begging to be unleashed. The System didn’t need to tell him this was judgement.

“Executor,” it said anyway. “Prepare sentence.”

He stepped from the shadows. His voice was calm, steady, carrying across the dock like the edge of a blade. “Let them go.”

The men froze. Then, as one, they burst into laughter. One raised his rifle, grinning through broken teeth. “Look at this one. Lost kid with a death wish.”

“Last chance,” Liam said. His eyes burned faintly, the fire beneath his skin flickering through.

They didn’t take it. The first shot cracked the night, a flash of light splitting the dark. Liam moved. The bullet whipped past as he surged forward, faster than muscle and bone should allow. His fist caught the gunman’s jaw, shattering it with a crunch that echoed. The man dropped like a stone.

Chaos erupted. Guns barked, muzzle flashes stuttering in the dark. Liam weaved through them, a blur of violence, his strikes glowing with faint blue fire that scorched and seared. One by one, they fell, screaming as their souls were ripped from their bodies, the flames of justice devouring them. The air reeked of ozone and charred flesh, the cries of the damned cutting through the storm.

But there were too many. A rifle stock slammed into his ribs, pain flaring white hot. He stumbled, blood filling his mouth, but spun, snapping the attacker’s arm and slamming him into the container wall so hard the steel buckled. He felt the darkness rise again, the satisfaction, the hunger. He nearly let go. Nearly became the thing Marcus had accused him of.

Then he saw the cages. The eyes staring out at him, pleading, broken. That steadied him. That reminded him why he was here.

The last man crawled on the ground, leg shattered, eyes wild with terror. “Please! I didn’t want this. They forced me!”

Liam froze, the fire licking his fists. The System’s voice was sharp in his skull. “Judgement required.”

“System,” Liam rasped. “Is he guilty?”

Silence, then: “Corruption level: minimal. Coercion detected. Recommendation: mercy.”

The flames died from his hands. Liam exhaled slowly. “Run,” he said. “And don’t ever come back.”

The man scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the shadows.

Liam staggered to the cages, tearing the locks open with hands still glowing faintly. The prisoners spilled out, sobbing, clinging to one another. A boy no older than ten grabbed Liam’s sleeve, staring up with wide, wet eyes. “Are you… are you an angel?”

The question cut deeper than any wound. Liam forced a tight smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. Just someone making sure the bad guys don’t win tonight.”

Before he could say more, the System’s voice returned, colder than ice. “Warning. Threat remains. Marcus Kane: active. Growing influence detected.”

Liam’s stomach twisted. Marcus was still out there, still spreading rot, still laughing at him from the dark. And worse the hunger inside him, the corruption the System warned of, was growing too. He could feel it, coiled in his bones, whispering every time he unleashed the flames.

He looked at the frightened faces around him, then at the rain-slick shadows of the docks. “I won’t stop,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes.”

The System was silent. But in that silence, Liam knew the truth. The war was only beginning.