Liam sat on his couch, stretching his legs as he finished setting up his new phone, scrolling through the settings one last ti to make sure everything was in order. With a deep sigh, he placed the phone on the small table beside him, leaned back, and allowed himself to sink into the soft cushions. His eyes drifted to the high ceiling above, and for the first ti in a while, an old mory surfaced in his mind—one he hadn’t thought about in a long ti.
His ho used to be so lively before, filled with warmth, laughter, and the comforting presence of his mother, whose cheerful voice used to echo through the walls as she chased him around, tickling him until he could barely breathe from laughter. He rembered how she would scoop him up into her arms, spinning him around playfully, her soft brown eyes always shining with love. His father, however, had always been different. More distant. Always busy with work, always locked away in his ho office, buried under stacks of docunts and research notes about so high-tech project he had been working on before his untily death. Liam barely ever stepped foot into that office when he was younger—it had always felt like a sacred, off-limits place, like a world he was never ant to be part of. But after his father’s passing, everything in that office had been cleared out, leaving behind nothing but dust and empty shelves, erasing any trace of the man who had once spent so many sleepless nights in there.
Liam exhaled quietly, a wave of loneliness creeping up his spine as he stared at the ceiling. Now, it was only him. Every day felt dull, repetitive, and, at tis, downright terrifying. There had been monts—dark, fleeting monts—where he had considered ending it all, slipping away from the endless cycle of emptiness. But he had always forced himself to push those thoughts away as quickly as they ca, locking them deep inside his mind where they couldn’t take root.
But then... things changed.
Ever since that fateful day—the day Sam and his group had chased him down, forcing him into the path of an oncoming car—his life had taken a turn he never expected. Waking up after the accident, finding himself gifted with a mysterious system, his once-aningless existence had suddenly beco... fun. Dangerous, yes. Unpredictable, definitely. But interesting nonetheless.
As he thought about those boys—the ones who had ruined his life, who had taken so much from him—his deep blue eyes darkened, a dangerous light flickering in their depths. He licked his lips slowly, a cruel grin stretching across his face.
Death.
That was the only fitting punishnt for what they did to him.
But he wouldn’t kill them just yet. No, that would be far too rciful. He wanted to toy with them, break them, drag them into the depths of despair before pushing them into their inevitable, agonizing deaths. He wanted them to suffer.
Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone shattered the silence.
Liam blinked, his thoughts montarily disrupted, before glancing at the table. His phone screen was dark. It wasn’t the one ringing.
Slowly, he turned his head to the side and saw the source of the sound—his other phone.
The one from the suitcase.
Furrowing his brows, he reached for it, picked it up, and looked at the screen. A ssage. Or rather... a location.
His confusion deepened as he unlocked the phone and opened the ssage fully. The text was short, direct, and left little room for interpretation:
"Co. Dressed appropriately for your initiation."
Liam stared at the words, reading them twice, then a third ti, before his expression twisted into one of sheer disbelief.
His lips parted slightly as he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with both confusion and mild exasperation.
"What in God’s good na is this...? I joined a gang, not a fucking cult."
Liam didn’t waste any ti. The mont he put his phone down, he got up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he stepped under the hot shower. The water cascaded over his body, washing away the fatigue of the day, but his mind remained sharp, replaying the ssage he had just received. Initiation? The word lingered in his thoughts as he scrubbed his skin, letting the soap lather before rinsing it off. Wasn’t this just a business arrangent between him and Lilith? Why did it feel like he was being thrown into sothing much deeper than what he initially expected?
With a sigh, he finished showering and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off before wrapping it around his waist. As he walked back into his room, his eyes fell on the suitcase sitting at the foot of his bed. He had barely paid attention to its contents before, but now, he had no choice. With a flick of his fingers, he unlatched it and pulled it open, revealing the neatly packed clothing inside.
The black suit was impeccable—tailored to perfection. He took the jacket out, running his fingers over the smooth fabric, before pulling out the dress shirt and pants, followed by the gleaming black shoes tucked neatly at the side. He dressed quickly, slipping into the clothes with ease, and when he turned to face the full-length mirror in the corner of his room, he had to pause.
Damn.
Even he had to admit—he looked good. No, not just good. Dashing.
The suit hugged his fra perfectly, emphasizing his lean yet muscular build. The dark color contrasted against his fair skin, making his deep blue eyes stand out even more. With his ssy yet stylish dark brown hair, he looked... dangerous. Refined, yet lethal.
His gaze then fell back to the suitcase. There were only two things left inside—a thin black cloth and a beautifully designed black mask.
He hesitated, picking up the mask first. It was light yet sturdy, clearly crafted with care, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wear it just yet. His fingers then brushed over the thin black cloth, and after a mont of contemplation, he decided to go with it instead. Carefully, he tied it around his head, covering his eyes leaving only space for him to see.
It was an odd sensation but he didn’t plan on keeping it on the entire way. That would be stupid. As soon as he was a few blocks away, he untied it and pocketed it, making his way toward the location displayed on his phone.
It took him so ti to get there, navigating through unfamiliar streets, but when he finally arrived, he had to admit—he wasn’t expecting this.
The place was buzzing with activity, bright neon lights flashing above a sleek entrance that looked more like an upscale nightclub than a gang hideout. The thumping bass of music vibrated through the pavent, and outside the entrance stood a pair of tall, burly guards dressed in suits, checking the identities of those entering.
Liam narrowed his eyes slightly, observing the process. So people flashed small tallic badges, which were quickly examined before they were let inside. Others whispered sothing to the guards before gaining entry. He had no idea what the protocol was for new recruits, but one thing was certain—he didn’t have a badge.
Bracing himself, he approached the guards. Predictably, they stopped him before he could take another step forward.
"Badge?" one of them asked in a deep, gruff voice.
Liam glanced at the man’s stoic face before shaking his head. "I don’t have one."
Imdiately, both guards stiffened, their sharp gazes scrutinizing him carefully. "Then you’re in the wrong place," the other one said.
Liam exhaled through his nose. "I was invited," he stated simply.
The first guard’s brow twitched in irritation. "By who?"
Instead of answering, Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone from the suitcase, turning the screen toward them.
The mont they saw it, their entire deanor changed.
"Go in," one of them said, stepping aside without further question.
Liam arched a brow. That easy? As he walked past them, he thought to himself, So they identify new mbers through this phone... interesting.
But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.
The mont he stepped inside, he froze.
For fuck’s sake.
This wasn’t a gang eting.
This was a goddamn party.
The interior was massive, a sprawling underground club with flashing lights, a massive dance floor, and music so loud that it felt like it was vibrating through his bones. The air was thick with alcohol, smoke, and the scent of perfu, mixing into sothing almost intoxicating. But the most shocking part?
The sheer number of half-naked people dancing like lunatics.
Liam’s eyes widened as he took a step forward, only to be t with the sight of bare chests, tight dresses, and won grinding against each other or against n who looked just as drunk as they were.
In the span of ten seconds, he had already lost count of how many tits had flashed in front of his face.
What the actual fuck was wrong with these people?
This was supposed to be a gang.
Not a cult.
Not a brothel.
Not a fucking rave party from hell.
Liam let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing his temples as he muttered under his breath.
"Yep. Definitely a fucking cult."
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