Liam''s Perspective


    The air in the private meeting room at Riverside Hotel crackled with tension. Alistair Northwood''s face had gone pale, his eyes darting nervously between me and the red-faced man across the table.


    "Mr. Vega, please reconsider," Alistair pleaded. "This partnership would benefit both of ourpanies tremendously."


    Alister Vega – heir to the Vega Enterprises fortune and apparently mytest problem – red at me with undisguised hatred.


    "You expect me to do business with a man who struck me in public?" he snarled, pointing a manicured finger at me. "Do you know who I am?"


    I suppressed a sigh. This was getting old. Every entitled brat in Havenwood seemed to think their family name was a shield against consequences.


    "You''re the guy who tried to force himself on a waitress at Café Laurentst month," I replied calmly. "The one whose wrist I nearly broke."


    Alistair winced beside me. This wasn''t going as nned. When he''d called this morning asking for another favor – a simple business introduction – I hadn''t expected my past to collide with his future so spectacrly.


    Vega''s face darkened. "That''s right. And now you''ve cost me face twice." He leaned forward, lips curled in a sneer. "I''ll make this simple for you, Knight. Either you kneel and apologize to me right now, or you send your girlfriend to my hotel room tonight. Your choice."


    The room went dead silent.


    Alistair''s breathing quickened. "Mr. Vega, surely we can—"


    I raised my hand, cutting him off. "It''s alright, Alistair."


    I stood slowly, straightened my jacket, and walked around the table. Vega''s smile widened as I approached, triumph gleaming in his eyes.


    "Smart choice," he smirked. "On your knees then—"


    My fist connected with his jaw before he could finish. His head snapped back, and he crashed to the floor in a heap of expensive clothing and wounded pride.


    "Liam!" Alistair gasped, jumping to his feet.


    Vega scrambled backward, his hand covering what would soon be an impressive bruise. "You''re dead! Do you hear me? DEAD!"


    I reached down, grabbed his cor, and hauled him up. "Threatening my girlfriend was your second mistake. Your first was assuming I cared about who you are."


    "My uncle is Braydon Yates!" he spat, blood trickling from his split lip. "President of the River North Martial Arts Association!"


    I smiled coldly. "Never heard of him."


    I mmed him against the wall, feeling a rush of dark satisfaction as fear reced arrogance in his eyes. The Heaven Swallowing Skill stirred inside me, hungry as always.


    "Call him," I suggested. "I''m curious to meet this uncle who raised such a pathetic excuse for a man."


    Vega''s eyes narrowed. "You want me to call him? You''ll regret that."


    "Do it."


    I released him and stepped back. Vega straightened his rumpled suit with trembling hands, his veneer of confidence cracking.


    "Liam," Alistair whispered urgently. "Braydon Yates is not someone to provoke. He controls every martial artist in River North District. He''s a Martial Marquis."


    I shrugged. "So was Dashiell ckthorne."


    Alistair went even paler. Meanwhile, Vega was already on his phone, speaking rapidly in hushed tones. From his gestures and the glimpses of his furious expression, I gathered he was painting quite the dramatic picture of his victimhood.


    "He''sing," Vega announced smugly as he ended the call. "With three Grandmasters. You should start running now, Knight. It might give you a head start."


    I pulled out a chair and sat down. "I''ll wait."


    "Your funeral," Vega spat, then grimaced as pain shot through his leg. I''d kicked him harder than I thought.


    Alistair slumped into the chair beside me, looking defeated. "We''re trapped four stories up in his family''s hotel. The security here answers to him."


    "Worried about me, Alistair?" I asked.


    "Worried about both of us," he muttered. "I dragged you into this."


    I waved away his concern. "You asked for a business meeting. This—" I gestured at the fuming Vega, "—is all on him."


    While we waited for the arrival of Braydon Yates and his entourage, I pulled out my phone and opened The Warrior''s Scroll. Might as well catch up on thetest news about myself. <dfn ss="story-note-vis">Sаmplе frоm Мy Virtuаl Librаry Еmpirе—rеаd mоrе оn М&VLЕМРY&R.</dfn>


    The headline made me raise an eyebrow: "POTENTIAL RANKING UPDATED: HAVENWOOD''S DEMON CLIMBS TO SECOND PLACE."


    I scrolled through the article, scanning the rankings. There I was at number two, just below some prodigy from the Sacred Mountain Sect. My mysterious "heart method" was mentioned again, along with spection about my "demonic cultivation path."


    "You find this funny?" Vega demanded, noticing my small smile. "You''ll be begging for mercy soon enough."


    "I''m just reading about myself," I replied, turning my phone to show him the article. "Apparently I''m quite newsworthy."


    His eyes widened as he recognized the ranking. "That''s... that''s impossible. The Potential Ranking is for real cultivators, not street thugs!"


    "And yet, here I am." I continued scrolling. "Oh, look at this – the Ashworth Family is publicly recruiting talents. Offering resources, protection, and advancement opportunities. Interesting timing."


    Alistair leaned over to look. "Corbin Ashworth making his move?"


    "Seems that way," I nodded. "Gathering allies beforeing after me directly."


    Vega watched our casual conversation with growing confusion and rage. "Are you insane? My uncle will be here any minute!"


    "You mentioned that," I said, pocketing my phone. "Multiple times."


    Amotion in the hallway made Vega straighten up, a vindictive smile spreading across his face. "He''s here."


    The door swung open. First came two stern-faced men in traditional martial attire – Grandmasters, based on their bearing and the faint energy radiating from them. Next was a woman with simr status, her eyes cold and assessing as they swept the room.


    Finally, a broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair strode in. Even without the deference shown by the others, his power was unmistakable. Braydon Yates carried himself with the absolute confidence of someone used to immediate obedience.


    "Uncle!" Vega limped forward. "This is the man! The one who attacked me! I want him crippled!"


    Braydon Yates raised a hand, silencing his nephew. His eyes locked onto me, and something strange happened. His expression shifted from stern authority to disbelief, then shock.


    The room fell silent as Braydon Yates stared at me as if seeing a ghost.


    "You..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.


    The three Grandmasters exchanged confused nces. This clearly wasn''t the reception they''d expected.


    I rose slowly to my feet, watching the powerful martial artist''s face pale before me.


    "Do I know you?" I asked, genuinely curious about his reaction.


    Vega looked between us, confusion recing his smugness. "Uncle? What''s wrong? That''s him – Liam Knight! The one who attacked me!"


    Braydon Yates seemed not to hear his nephew. His eyes never left my face as he took a step forward.


    "It can''t be..." he murmured. "After all these years..."


    "Uncle!" Vega grabbed his arm. "I demand you punish him! Break his limbs! He humiliated me!"


    Braydon Yates finally tore his gaze from me to look at his nephew. Something dark and dangerous shed in his eyes.


    "You have no idea what you''ve done," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "No idea who you''ve provoked."


    I stood perfectly still, processing the unexpected turn of events. This powerful man recognized me. But from where? And why did he look at me with such... fear?


    Alistair watched the scene with bewilderment, as confused as I was. The three Grandmasters had shifted positions subtly, forming a protective triangle around their leader rather than preparing to attack me.


    "What are you talking about?" Vega demanded, his voice rising with hysteria. "He''s nobody! Just some upstart who—"


    "Silence!" Braydon Yates thundered, making everyone in the room flinch. "You foolish boy! Look at him. Really look at him!"


    All eyes turned to me. I met their gazes steadily, giving nothing away despite my inner turmoil. The jade pendant beneath my shirt seemed to grow warmer against my skin.


    "I don''t understand," Vega said, his earlier confidence evaporating. "Uncle, who is he?"


    Braydon Yates straightened his shoulders,posing himself with visible effort. When he spoke again, his voice was measured, controlled.


    "Mr. Knight," he said formally, inclining his head in a gesture that fell just short of a bow. "I apologize for my nephew''s behavior. It seems he has forgotten his manners."


    "Uncle!" Vega gasped, scandalized.


    "Be quiet if you want to leave this room intact," Yates snapped without looking at him. His attention remained fixed on me, his eyes searching my face for... something.


    "You seem to know me," I said carefully. "Yet I don''t recall meeting you before."


    A sad smile touched his lips. "No, you wouldn''t remember. It was a long time ago." He turned to his nephew. "Apologize to Mr. Knight. Now."


    "What?" Vega looked like he might faint. "You can''t be serious!"


    One of the Grandmasters stepped forward, his hand moving to his belt. "Do as the President says."


    Vega''s face contorted with rage and humiliation. "I will not apologize to this—"


    Braydon Yates moved so fast I barely saw it. His hand shot out, gripping his nephew''s injured leg. Vega screamed as something cracked.


    "I said apologize," Yates repeated coldly.


    White-faced and trembling, Vega turned to me. "I... I apologize for my behavior," he choked out.


    I raised an eyebrow at the unexpected development. "epted."


    Braydon Yates released his nephew, who copsed into a chair, clutching his now-broken leg. He wiped his hand on a handkerchief as if touching Vega had soiled him.


    "Mr. Knight," he said, turning back to me. "I would be honored if you would join me for tea. There are... matters we should discuss."


    "Uncle!" Vega protested weakly. "You can''t—"


    "One more word," Yates said without looking at him, "and I''ll break the other leg too."


    Vega fell silent, tears of pain and humiliation streaming down his face.


    I nced at Alistair, who looked as stunned as I felt. He gave me a slight nod, signaling that I should ept the invitation.


    "Tea sounds good," I agreed. "But my friend Alistaires too."


    Yates considered this, then nodded. "As you wish." He gestured toward the door. "My private quarters are in the penthouse."


    As we prepared to leave, Yates paused by his sobbing nephew. "Consider yourself fortunate that he epted your apology. There are others who would have taken your head for such disrespect."


    The three Grandmasters formed a protective formation around us as we exited the room, leaving Alister Vega alone with his pain and confusion.


    In the elevator, no one spoke. Braydon Yates stood with his hands sped behind his back, his eyes asionally darting to my face before looking away again, as if afraid of what he might see.


    Alistair shot me a questioning look. I gave him a subtle shrug. I was as baffled as he was.


    As the elevator climbed, one thing became clear – Braydon Yates knew something about me. Something that turned a powerful martial artist from vengeful enforcer to cautious host in seconds.


    Perhaps, atst, I would get some answers about my mysterious past. About the jade pendant. About who I really was.


    Or perhaps I was walking into another trap. Either way, I would face it head-on.


    The elevator doors slid open, revealing the luxurious penthouse of the Riverside Hotel. Braydon Yates stepped out first, his voice unnervingly soft as he said:


    "Wee, son of the Shadow King."