Liam lay on the soft mattress, eyes fixed on the blinking notification in his system interface. It had been buzzing silently since midnight, but he hadn’t had the ti—or energy—to check it.
Until now.
With a single ntal click, the screen popped open.
And what he saw made him sit upright instantly.
[Mission: Destroy Crimson Hand’s Brothel – COMPLETED]
[All Stats 10]
[EXP 500]
[New Skill Unlocked – Dragon Step Lv. 1]
Then followed his current stats:
[Liam Carter]
[Strength: 34 / 1000]
[Agility: 32 / 1000]
[Endurance: 28 / 1000]
[Intelligence: 28 / 1000]
[EXP: 950 / 1000]
Liam blinked.
Wait... 950?
The 500 EXP reward made sense. But where had the other 450 co from?
Then it hit him like a jolt of lightning.
Oh... right.
The night with Ann. That ridiculously long, intense night—they hadn’t stopped until their bodies gave out. The system must’ve considered that a worthy feat. That, and the Crimson Hand mbers he had taken out... all of it had quietly stacked up.
He scratched the back of his head and smirked. "Damn. Guess I’ve been grinding without realizing."
But the stat boost wasn’t what kept his eyes glued to the screen.
Dragon Step.
That na alone carried weight. He tapped it curiously.
Instead of a block of text, a video appeared—dark background, two figures: one black, the other white. The black one assud a defensive stance while the white one stood tall, relaxed... and then moved.
In an instant, the white figure vanished from its spot. No sound. No trail. Just—movent.
Like a ghost.
A streak of motion—impossibly fast. One mont he was feet away. The next, he was directly in front of his opponent. Feet sliding across the ground with absolute precision. Not a run. Not a dash.
A dance.
Then ca the palm strike—direct, explosive, fluid. The black figure reeled back. It wasn’t just speed that made Dragon Step lethal. It was the combination of agility, rhythm, and pure intent. Footwork like water, strikes like lightning.
Liam’s jaw clenched.
That... was beautiful.
He tossed the blanket aside and stood up, eyes glowing with focus. He couldn’t explain it, but sothing about that movent called to him. He had to try it.
Positioning his body in the sa stance, Liam exhaled slowly. He concentrated. Relaxed his legs. Then—
He moved.
It wasn’t perfect, but holy hell, it worked.
His foot glided silently across the floor as his body leaned forward. Before he knew it, he was on the other side of the room. There was a faint thump where his feet landed, but for a first attempt, it was almost surreal.
He spun around, slightly breathless, eyes wide.
I actually did it?
No... not fully. His version lacked the finesse of the system’s figure. The grace. The deadly elegance. His own step was raw, powerful—but unrefined.
Not good enough.
He reset his stance, narrowing his eyes.
Again.
He moved.
Then again.
And again.
He didn’t care how much ti has passed. Didn’t care how tired he was. His body was aching from the long drive earlier, but that didn’t matter now. His heartbeat picked up—not from exhaustion, but from excitent.
Each repetition brought him closer. Each movent, more precise. His feet began gliding instead of stomping. His balance shifted more naturally. The rhythm—the dance—was beginning to settle in his bones.
There was no one here to cheer him on. No reward waiting at the end of each perfect execution.
But Liam didn’t stop.
Because now, he had sothing new.
A weapon that danced in the shadows.
And he would master it.
Liam kept practicing the Dragon Step, over and over again. Each ti he tried, he felt himself getting a little faster, a little smoother—but it still wasn’t perfect. His feet slid across the floor, and though his body moved with growing precision, he could feel the weight of fatigue building. His muscles ached, his breathing turned ragged, and beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face, dripping from his jawline onto the floor.
The room was hot now. His shirt clung to his body, soaked and sticking to his back. His hair was damp and matted to his forehead, the strands plastered down in a ss of sweat. Still, he didn’t stop.
But eventually, even his endurance had its limit. He stumbled slightly during a step and leaned against the wall, groaning in exhaustion.
Then—a knock.
Liam clenched his fist and gently hit the wall beside him in frustration. Seriously? Now? He was sure it had to be Lilith again. Maybe she ca to complain about how his practice was disturbing her, or maybe to drag him into so annoying errand. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood.
Still dripping with sweat, he opened the door. But to his surprise—it wasn’t Lilith.
It was Ella.
She stood at the door, blinking in mild surprise. Her eyes swept over him quickly. His face was damp, his shirt stuck to his body, and his chest rose and fell with every breath. His hair, wet and ssy, made him look like he just walked out of a magazine photo shoot. And there was sothing else—sothing subtle but powerful. His aura. It had changed. Sharpened. Stronger. And she could feel it.
Ella stamred, just a bit. "I—I didn’t know you were... training or... whatever you’re doing."
Liam ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Yeah. Sothing like that."
She took a mont to compose herself before speaking again. "Lilith wants us to go around the city, and she wants you and to co along."
Liam narrowed his eyes slightly. "Lilith wants to sightsee? That doesn’t sound like her."
"It’s not sightseeing," Ella replied. "She’s making her rounds. Business visits, I guess. Just wants backup—more like company."
Liam sighed and leaned his shoulder against the doorfra. "Alright. I’ll join you guys after I clean up."
Ella nodded and turned away, but not without sneaking one last glance at him before walking off.
Back inside, Liam stripped off his soaked shirt and tossed it aside. He took a mont to breathe before heading into the bathroom. The cold water hit his skin and sent a refreshing shiver through his body. He stayed under the showerhead for a long ti, letting the fatigue slowly lt away. The sound of music filled the bathroom—sothing slow, calm. Just for relaxation.
He wasn’t rushing. He knew Lilith was probably outside tapping her foot or scowling in frustration. That only made him take his ti. It was fun ssing with her. After all, she was the one who dragged him along in the first place.
Eventually, he stepped out of the shower, dried off, and dressed in a clean outfit—simple jeans, a casual black shirt, and sneakers. He looked effortlessly good. No effort. No styling. Just him being him. The system’s passive boosts were starting to show in the little things. His posture. His skin. His eyes. Everything about him was sharpening.
As he stepped out into the passage, heading toward the front area, he turned the corner—and collided with soone.
Bam!
Lilith.
She was storming forward and didn’t expect to see Liam exiting at that mont. The sudden bump sent her stumbling backward.
But before she could hit the ground, Liam’s arm shot out. His reflexes were sharp—too sharp. One arm caught her around the waist. Her body bent slightly backward, cradled in his arms, while his leaned over her protectively.
The two of them froze there. Just for a second.
Lilith’s sharp eyes t his, her face inches from his. Her golden-blonde hair swayed gently from the montum, and her blazer shifted, revealing a hint of her silky black shirt beneath.
Liam stared.
Damn... she slls good.
Lilith’s lips parted slightly as her expression softened—just for a second. Then she whispered, "Liam..."
Liam blinked. He wasn’t sure what to expect next. A thank you? A smirk? A flirtatious tease?
But what ca next completely caught him off guard.
"...Why the fuck is your hand on my breast?"
Liam froze.
He tilted his head down slowly—and there it was.
His other hand.
Resting.
Firmly.
Right on Lilith’s chest.
His heart skipped a beat. "Oh—shit."
He imdiately straightened up and helped her do the sa, pulling his hand away as fast as lightning.
"I-I didn’t an— I wasn’t trying to—" he stamred.
Lilith dusted herself off casually, not saying anything at first. Her face had a strange calm to it... one that made it hard to tell if she was pissed off or secretly amused.
Liam cleared his throat, still visibly awkward. "Sorry. Reflexes."
Lilith finally gave a half-smile. "Next ti your reflexes touch like that again, I’m chopping your hands off."
Liam nodded quickly. "Noted."
And yet, even as she walked past him, her eyes trailed to him one last ti.
The worst part?
She didn’t look mad.
Not at all.
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