Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 96: Masked Fighter

Liam stood at the entrance of the ring, draped in a dark robe that fell just past his knees.

The fabric was thick enough to obscure his frame, loose enough to allow movement. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

A simple mask covered the upper half of his face—nothing ornate, just a solid piece with two eye holes that gave him an anonymity he desperately needed right now.

Behind him, Ren paced back and forth, wringing his hands together like he was trying to squeeze water from stone.

"Are you sure?" Ren asked again, his voice cracking slightly. "Are you absolutely sure you want to go out there?"

Liam didn’t answer immediately. He watched the arena, watched the way the crowd moved like a single organism, hungry and restless.

"You do know once you step into that ring, there’s no rules, right? No help. Nothing." Ren stopped pacing and looked directly at Liam.

"They will kill you. I know... I know I asked you to be my fighter because I was scared. I was terrified and I just grabbed onto the first person who seemed offered, but now I’ve had time to think and I’m a little more stable and you really don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me anything."

The words tumbled out fast, tripping over each other in their hurry to escape. It was the kind of rambling that came from genuine concern, the kind that made Liam’s chest tighten just a bit.

Liam smiled beneath the mask. He looked at Ren, really looked at him.

The man was still shaking, still radiating that nervous energy that good people seemed to carry when they felt guilty about something.

"He’s a good person," Liam thought. "He’s still trying to convince me not to go, even knowing they might send him in there instead. That’s rare."

But Liam had to do this.

"Don’t worry," Liam said, and his smile widened just enough to be reassuring. "I’ve got this."

He glanced at the digital timer mounted in front of him.

[3:15]

’Three minutes’

Liam stepped forward into the arena.

The first thing that hit him was the sheer volume.

The noise wasn’t just loud, it was physical. It crashed over him like a wave, a roar of voices shouting, laughing, screaming.

Drinks being poured.

The arena itself was box-shaped, ringed by tiered seating that rose up toward a ceiling obscured by shadows and smoke.

Spotlights carved through the haze, illuminating the fighting ring at the center.

It was crude, just a raised platform with chain-link barriers that looked like they’d been repurposed from a construction site. Bloodstains darkened the canvas floor in irregular patches.

And standing in the middle of that ring, utterly unbothered, was number twenty.

The man stood with his hands hanging loose at his sides, head tilted slightly to one side like he was bored. There was no tension in his posture, no wariness.

He looked like a lion waiting for the next piece of meat to wander into his territory, completely confident that the outcome was already decided.

Liam kept walking. His smile had faded now, replaced by something harder to read. His eyes were fixed on number twenty, taking in every detail, measuring distances, calculating angles.

’Most people would think I’m doing this because I’m nice,’ Liam thought as he approached the ring. ’Because I’m a good guy trying to help someone out. Like all those stupid MCs in stories who throw themselves into danger for noble reasons.’

They’d be wrong.

This wasn’t some anime where the protagonist took a stand and everything magically worked out because he had the power of friendship on his side.

This was real life, with a reality that was just fucked up enough to have actual monsters like number twenty walking around in it.

Liam needed to become something. He’d promised his gang he would protect them. He’d promised Kelvin he would look out for anyone who mattered, family or not. He’d made those promises and he’d meant them, even if the weight of them scared him sometimes.

The encounter with Tasha’s uncle had shown him something important. He couldn’t end threats because he was too scared to cross that final line. He’d hesitated. He’d pulled back.

Someone had once said that the best enemies were dead ones, and Liam was starting to understand the brutal logic in that. He had to take a step he couldn’t come back from.

And now, unlike the situation with Tasha’s uncle, there was nowhere to run. No option to walk away. No middle ground to negotiate.

Kill or be killed. That was it.

Liam climbed into the ring. The canvas was rough under his feet, slightly sticky in places. He didn’t want to think about why.

He looked at the timer again.

[1:29]

’Fuck,’ Liam thought, his hands starting to shake. ’This guy is even scarier up close.’

He could feel his legs trying to move on their own, muscles twitching with the urge to turn around and run.

His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to break through his ribcage and fly away.

The laughter and shouting from the crowd started to fade, sound retreating into a distant buzz as fear took over.

But what was funny, what was almost absurd, was that Liam wasn’t scared of dying.

He was scared of having to kill someone.

Because to become a monster, you had to be a monster yourself.

Number twenty finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that somehow cut through the noise.

"So I shouldn’t have killed those fools so fast. Now they want me to fight again." He rolled his shoulders, joints popping audibly. "This time let’s milk it. You make some moves, land a few hits anywhere you like. I’ll pretend to fall, act like I’m hurt. I know they’re not going to believe it but at least it’ll be entertaining and after I kill you then maybe they’ll let me go watch my show in peace."

Liam didn’t say a word. He just stood there, breathing slowly, trying to keep his hands from shaking too obviously.

[0:50]

Number twenty’s expression shifted slightly, irritation creeping into those dead eyes.

"Okay, mask. You do know that acting mysterious and cool is just going to make your death faster, right? Because I hate your type."

[0:30]

Liam still kept quiet. His mind was racing, running through the plan one more time, checking and rechecking the details.

"You know what?" Number twenty said, taking a step forward. "I’m going to kill you before—"

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Liam moved.

The skill carried him forward faster than number twenty’s eyes could follow. Liam’s hands locked around the back of the man’s head and he twisted with everything he had.

The crack was loud enough that the front row heard it clearly.

Number twenty’s head spun backward. All the way around. His face now stared directly at Liam while his body still faced forward.

"Huh?" The word came out garbled. Number twenty’s eyes were looking right at Liam but he didn’t seem to understand what he was seeing. "When did you get to my back?"

His body swayed slightly but stayed upright.

"Also when did I turn my..." He trailed off. His mouth opened like he wanted to say more but blood spilled out instead, running down his chin.

His knees buckled.

Number twenty dropped backward, his body crumpling. The impact shook the platform. His limbs twitched once. Then stopped moving entirely. He lay there staring up at the ceiling, his face pointing the wrong way while his chest faced the ground.

The entire arena went quiet.

It was the kind of silence where you could hear someone breathing three rows back. Hundreds of people and not a single voice.

Kelvin’s mouth hung open.

Then someone in the crowd whispered, "What the fuck just happened?"

"Did you see that?"

"His head... his head was backwards."

"We haven’t had a new numbered in over two years."

"He just killed number twenty. In one move."

The whispers built into murmurs, murmurs into shouts. The crowd was waking up, reacting, and Liam didn’t want to be there when they fully processed what they’d just witnessed.

He climbed out of the ring and walked slowly toward the entrance where Ren was still standing, rooted to the spot, his face pale.

Liam looked at him. "Seems like I won."

Ren blinked, his mouth working for a moment before words came out. "Yeah. Seems like it."

"Is something wrong?" Liam asked.

"You just one shot a numbered like it was nothing." Ren shook his head, still looking dazed.

But then he seemed to catch himself, seemed to remember where he was. He wanted nothing more than to ask Liam who he was, how he’d done that—a dozen questions burned on his tongue. But instead he just said, "Thank you. Seriously. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Liam said.

"I’ll send your winnings to you later," Ren said quickly.

"Don’t worry about it."

"No, I can’t just let you go like that." Ren pulled out his phone, fingers moving rapidly across the screen. "I’m sending you five hundred million right now."

Liam’s eyes widened behind the mask. "Five hundred million?"

"Yeah. I just need you to sign here and I’ll transfer it immediately."

"Okay."

Liam scrawled something approximating a signature on the digital pad Ren held out.

"Also," Ren said, his voice dropping lower, "now that you’ve defeated a numbered, you’ll have to take their number. You’ll be called for matches a lot. That’s how it works." He paused, studying Liam carefully. "With your strength, you should be able to reach around number fifteen with your skill."

Liam raised one eyebrow beneath the mask. ’So he doesn’t think I can go higher than that?’

Ren must have caught something in Liam’s posture because he quickly added, "Don’t get me wrong. You’re strong, a monster in your own right. But the top fifteen?" He shook his head. "They’re monster killers. You beat number twenty because you’re fast, but the higher you go, the less room for that move to work."

Liam felt his stomach sink to the idea that they were still people stronger than twenty.

But also the thought of fighting sounded like a massive pain in the ass.

He didn’t want to become anything in this world, didn’t want another title or responsibility. He already had enough going on.

"I decline," Liam said.

"You can’t just decline."

"Yes I can."

"But what if they ask me if I know you?"

"Just tell them you don’t know me."

Ren’s eyes widened. "What if they threaten me?"

"We don’t actually know each other, do we? That’s the truth. Even if they put you on a lie detector, you’d still pass." Liam turned to leave. "So have a nice day."

Liam walked away before Ren could protest further.

---

He found Kelvin near the concession area, still looking stunned.

"Liam! Where were you?" Kelvin asked.

"Toilet," Liam said, keeping his voice casual. "What happened here?"

"Dude, the craziest thing just happened. Some guy just killed number twenty with one move. One move, man. I’ve never seen anything like it."

"Really?" Liam asked, injecting just the right amount of surprise into his voice.

Kelvin’s face fell, his earlier excitement draining away. "Dude, what if they send someone like that after you?"

Liam knew Kelvin had no idea that the masked fighter had been him. There was no recognition in his friend’s eyes, just genuine worry.

Liam shrugged. "I don’t Care, man. I still stand on what I said."

"You’re insane."

"Probably. Let’s go."

They walked out of the arena together, leaving the chaos and the shouting behind them. Liam kept his expression neutral, kept his breathing steady.

Liam looked down at his hands. They were still steady, not shaking anymore.

’I actually did it.’