Liam''s Perspective


    I''d spent three days holed up in this cheap Unchon hotel, waiting for my enemies to make their move. The room was sparse—a bed that creaked whenever I shifted my weight, a desk with a wobbly leg, and a bathroom where the shower alternated between scalding and freezing without warning.


    But it served its purpose. I was hidden yet essible. The perfect bait.


    My phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:


    "They know you''re in Unchon. Be careful."


    No signature. No details. Just another warning to add to my growing collection.


    I wasn''t surprised they''d found me. In fact, I''d been counting on it.


    As I gazed out the window at the sleepy town below, my mind drifted to what I''d witnessed by the riverbank. Eamon Greene masquerading as Bryce Osborne, iming to be Jackson Harding''s disciple. The bastard was ying a dangerous game.


    The gathering of martial artists was troubling. Not because they were hunting me—I''d expected that—but because of their caliber. Orion Valois. Kael Westwood. Kendrick Langley. Each name carried weight in the martial world. Each possessed skills that could end my life in seconds if I wasn''t careful.


    ***


    Several miles away, in a luxurious vi overlooking the same town, Orion Valois surveyed his assembled team with cold eyes.


    "Knight is still in Unchon," he said, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying to every corner of the room. "Our intelligence confirms he hasn''t left the city limits."


    Kael Westwood, a mountain of a man with arms like tree trunks, cracked his knuckles. "Then what are we waiting for? Let''s crush this insect and collect our reward."


    Kendrick Langley, elderly but radiating deadly focus, shook his head. "Patience. Knight may be young, but he''s dangerous. He killed Glenn Talbot, a feat few could aplish."


    "Glenn was a fool," Kael spat. "He relied too much on his martial arts and forgot the basics. I won''t make the same mistake."


    Eamon Greene, still disguised as Bryce Osborne, shifted ufortably in his chair. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool room.


    Orion noticed. "You seem nervous, Bryce. Having second thoughts?"


    "Of course not," Eamon replied, forcing confidence into his voice. "I''m just eager to get this over with."


    Orion''s gaze lingered on him for several ufortable seconds before turning to address the group. "Our target is formidable in directbat. His physical strength exceeds most Martial Masters, and he has techniques from the stairway to heaven."


    "Physical strength is nothing without skill," Kael interjected. "My Iron Body technique makes me virtually invulnerable to pure strength attacks. Let him try to break my defense."


    Kendrick Langley unrolled a map of Unchon on the table. "We''ll set a trap here, by the riverside. I''ll prepare a killing formation—the Five Elements Destruction Array. Once activated, it will neutralize most of his physical advantages."


    "And if that fails?" someone asked.


    "Then we move to direct assault," Orion replied. "Remember, ckthorne wants him alive."


    "Barely alive is still alive," Kael added with a cruel smile.


    Eamon felt sick. He''d created this mess with his boasting and lies, and now he was trapped in the middle of it. Worse, he had no way to warn Liam without revealing himself.


    Orion suddenly turned to Eamon, causing him to flinch. "You imed to know Knight''s techniques better than anyone. Tell us what to expect."


    Eamon swallowed hard. "He relies heavily on brute force. His movements are predictable—direct strikes, simple defenses. Nothing special."


    He hoped downying Liam''s abilities might give him an edge, but Orion''s narrowed eyes suggested skepticism.


    "Is that so?" Orion moved with blinding speed, suddenly inches from Eamon''s face. "Then why does Jackson Harding, your supposed master, speak so highly of him?"


    "Master is... testing him," Eamon stammered. "Seeing if he''s worthy."


    Orion grabbed Eamon''s cor. "If I discover you''ve misled us, your disguise won''t be the only thing I strip away. Understood?"


    Eamon nodded frantically.


    "Give me your phone," Orion demanded, extending his hand.


    "What? Why?"


    "Everyone''s phones. Now." Orion''s tone left no room for argument.


    One by one, they surrendered their devices. When Eamon hesitated, Orion simply reached into his pocket and took it.


    "No contact with the outside world until this is done," Orion exined. "No warnings, no leaks."


    The room fell silent, the gravity of their mission settling over them like a shroud.


    Then a voice spoke from the doorway. "I want to help."


    All heads turned to see Reginald Talbot—a young man with haunted eyes and a gaunt face.


    "Glenn Talbot''s son," Kendrick murmured.


    Reginald stepped forward. "Knight killed my father. Destroyed my family. I want revenge."


    "This isn''t a personal vendetta," Orion replied coldly. "It''s a contract."


    "I can lure him to your trap," Reginald insisted. "He won''t suspect me. I''ll tell him I came to Unchon after our family''s copse. That I want to make peace, despite what he did to my father."


    Orion studied the young man. "And why would he believe that?"


    "Because desperation is believable," Reginald answered. "And I am desperate."


    After a long moment, Orion nodded. "Very well. You''ll approach him tomorrow morning. Lead him to the riverside by sunset. We''ll be waiting."


    Eamon watched in horror. The trap was set, and he had no way to warn Liam.


    ***


    The next morning, a knock at my door pulled me from meditation.


    I approached cautiously, senses alert for any sign of an ambush. Through the peephole, I saw a single figure—young, thin, nervous.


    I recognized him immediately. Reginald Talbot, son of Glenn Talbot—the man I''d killed in self-defense months ago.


    I opened the door just wide enough to face him. "Reginald Talbot. You''re a long way from home."


    His eyes widened in surprise. "You remember me?"


    "I make a point of remembering the families of my enemies," I said tly. "What do you want?" <code ss="phantom-imprint">T.h.i%s c%ha*pter was m-a-d+e. p^o.ss$ib-le! by the *% co@mmu!ni-t!y%.&</code>


    He nced nervously down the hallway. "Can Ie in? Please? I don''t want to be seen."


    Every instinct screamed trap, but curiosity won out. I stepped aside, keeping one hand near the concealed knife at my waist.


    Reginald entered, his shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible burden.


    "Speak," Imanded.


    "After my father''s death, everything fell apart," he began, voice trembling slightly. "The Talbot family fortune, our connections, our standing—all gone. The vultures descended immediately."


    "And this concerns me how?"


    "I had nowhere else to go," he continued. "No resources, no allies. So I came to Unchon to start over."


    I studied his face, searching for deception. "That doesn''t exin why you''re at my door."


    He took a deep breath. "I want to propose a truce. Maybe even... work together."


    I couldn''t help the sharpugh that escaped me. "A truce? With the man who killed your father?"


    "My father was not a good man," Reginald said quietly. "You may have killed him, but he destroyed himself long before that. And our family with him."


    "So you''re proposing what exactly?"


    "A fresh start. I have information about the people hunting you. Information you might find valuable."


    I crossed my arms. "And in exchange?"


    "Protection. A chance to rebuild something new."


    His words seemed practiced yet desperate. Too convenient. Too unlikely.


    "Let me get this straight," I said slowly, disbelief evident in my tone. "I killed your father, and you want to reconcile with me?"


    The question hung in the air between us, loaded with suspicion and the potential for either truth or betrayal.