Lust System: Conquering the World Beauties-Chapter 255 New Era II

Liam leaned back on the sleek, black leather stool by the bar in Lilith’s penthouse, a damp towel in his hand as he wiped the dust and blood stains from his fingers. The apartment still smelled of alcohol and dried blood, but they had managed to bring some order back to the chaos. The broken furniture had been moved aside, the glass swept, and a calm silence now settled over the place.

Lana stood nearby, tying up a trash bag filled with broken bottles and debris. Her long hair was tied back, her cheeks slightly flushed from the effort. Liam’s eyes casually trailed to her and, with a soft exhale, he asked, "You’ve been going to your modeling office less and less these days. What’s going on with that?"

Lana raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. She looked at him, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and replied, "You didn’t know?"

Liam tilted his head slightly. "Know what?"

"I quit," she said casually, as though it wasn’t a big deal.

His brows lifted in surprise. "You quit?"

She nodded and walked toward him, her hands now empty. She leaned against the kitchen island across from him. "Yeah. Ever since I got my powers, it’s been... hard to fit in."

Liam frowned. "Hard how?"

Lana gave a soft chuckle. "Using my fire powers burns energy. A lot of it. I have to eat constantly to replace what I lose. And you know the kind of standards they keep at modeling agencies. Strict diet. I couldn’t keep up without starving myself or losing control. So I left."

He stared at her, quiet for a second. "But your dream..."

She smiled—a soft, beautiful expression that made his chest tighten. "My dream’s changed. I’m not the same person I was before."

Liam looked like he was about to ask what her dream was now, but just then, a knock came from outside. It echoed through the apartment like a warning bell.

Both of them turned their heads instinctively.

Liam walked to the console beside the bar and tapped the screen connected to the security system Lilith had recently installed. The display flickered for a second before showing a man standing at the door.

Detective Ryan.

Lana’s brows immediately furrowed. Her expression turned wary. "Did Lilith... tell the police she was attacked?"

Liam shook his head. "Doubt it. You know her. She’d rather bleed out quietly than call for help."

Lilith was still sleeping in her room, recovering from her injuries. They both knew better than to wake her unless the place was on fire.

Liam walked over to the intercom by the door. If Lilith were awake, she would’ve opened it with her voice. But now, it was up to him.

He pressed the button.

The door unlocked with a soft click, and slowly creaked open.

Detective Ryan stood outside, his hands casually tucked in his coat pockets. His face, however, looked anything but relaxed. He took a step in and his eyes immediately went to Lana, who was now standing by the kitchen, arms folded.

Liam noticed the flicker of surprise on Ryan’s face when he saw her, but it only lasted a second. His gaze then shifted to Liam.

"Liam," he said in a neutral tone.

"What’s up, Detective?" Liam said with a lazy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

Ryan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked behind Liam again, clearly debating whether to speak in front of Lana.

"You can say whatever it is right here," Liam said, his tone still calm. "No need to be shy."

Ryan sighed deeply.

Lana tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening. "What’s going on?"

Ryan looked at Liam, then back to Lana, and finally back to Liam again. There was tension in his shoulders now, and the weight of what he was about to say clung to his every breath.

Then, finally, he said the words:

"I’m here to arrest you, Liam."

——

Liam stared at Ryan in surprise, blinking once. His weight shifted slightly off the doorframe, his casual posture losing some of its ease. For a moment, silence stretched thick in the air.

Then Lana’s body moved with sharp instinct. She stepped in front of him, her arms slightly raised like a protective shield, her stance firm, unwavering. Her green eyes glared at Ryan with silent defiance. She stood tall, back straight, placing herself between Liam and the detective, like a lioness ready to defend her pride—even though, deep down, she knew the man behind her could probably snap every bone in Ryan’s body without breaking a sweat.

Still, her protective gesture was genuine.

Ryan hesitated as his eyes darted between the two of them, then exhaled slowly and adjusted his coat. "Let me rephrase," he said with measured calm. "Liam, I’ve been ordered to arrest you. The building is surrounded. SWAT, uniformed officers, tactical drones... the whole damn package."

Liam didn’t speak.

He just smiled.

No words. Just that smug, crooked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth like he’d just been handed a toy instead of a threat. Internally, he was mocking them—mocking their desperation, their fear, their blind belief that numbers would save them.

Lana didn’t miss the shift in his expression. Her lips twitched slightly, but her focus stayed on Ryan. "Arrest him?" she said, her voice sharp. "For what, exactly? What the hell did he do to deserve that?"

Ryan held her gaze with a pained look, like a man caught between duty and common sense. His jaw clenched briefly before he finally answered.

"For the murder of over forty civilians," he said. "And for being the Nightcrawler."

The words hit the room like a gunshot.

Lana blinked, stunned for half a second—then she laughed. Loud, incredulous laughter spilled from her lips like it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard.

"You can’t be serious," she said, half-scoffing. "The Nightcrawler? That’s the accusation? You do realize we were in Germany when all that happened, right? Public records, passport stamps, flight logs—you want me to dig them out for you?"

Ryan didn’t flinch. "I know."

Lana’s laughter cut off.

"I know he’s not the Nightcrawler," Ryan repeated, his voice heavier this time. "I’ve done my own digging. I’ve seen the timelines, matched the locations. I know he’s innocent."

He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, exhaling sharply. "But my boss—Chief Josh Michelle—he’s convinced. Obsessed, even. Says Liam’s the only one capable of that kind of violence and precision. And now... now I don’t have a choice. Orders are orders. I can’t walk out of here without taking him in."

For the first time, Lana’s expression changed—not to fear, but to something colder.

Ryan noticed the shift, saw the way her brows pinched and her lips thinned. He mistook it for dread. "Don’t worry, miss," he said quickly, raising a hand in reassurance. "No harm will come to him. I’ll personally make sure of it. And I swear to you, I’ll do everything I can to clear his name."

Lana’s brow arched slowly, and a sly smirk formed on her lips. She tilted her head.

"Worried?" she said, voice dripping with amusement. "Oh no, Detective. I’m not worried for him."

Ryan blinked.

What?

He looked at her again, genuinely puzzled now. "You’re... not?"

She shook her head slowly. "No," she said with quiet confidence. "If anything, I’m worried for you."

There was something unnerving about the way she said it. Calm. Sure. Like she was stating a fact, not making a threat.

Ryan looked over her shoulder at Liam. The guy hadn’t moved. Still standing behind Lana, still wearing that slight, patient smile. But now, Ryan noticed the way the air around him felt... wrong. Charged. Like static just before lightning struck.

Liam finally moved. He stepped forward just a bit, enough that Lana eased to the side, letting him speak for himself.

"What proof does your Chief Josh have against me?" Liam asked, his voice calm but cool—too cool. Not a trace of panic, not even curiosity. Just cold, steady disinterest.

Ryan hesitated for a moment, then reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a phone and unlocked it with a thumb scan. "This," he said, holding it out. "This is what he gave me."

He tapped the screen and turned the phone toward Liam and Lana.

The video began to play.

It showed a dark alley drenched in rain. A couple ran, slipping on the wet pavement, their screams echoing faintly in the distance. Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged.

Liam.

He walked calmly, like a predator with all the time in the world. His steps made no sound as he closed the gap between him and the victims. Without hesitation, he plunged a knife into one, then the other, with brutal efficiency. No words. No pause. Just quick, silent murder.

Blood sprayed across the concrete walls. The camera zoomed slightly as Liam knelt, dipped his fingers in the pooling blood, and smeared a word across the alley floor.

Nightcrawler.

The video ended.

Ryan looked up.

Lana’s mouth was slightly open, but not in shock—more in disbelief at how disturbingly real the footage looked.

Liam didn’t react.

He simply stared at the screen, unmoved, eyes narrowed slightly—not in fear, but in analysis. His mind was already working, scanning every frame for digital artifacts, inconsistencies, anything the naked eye would miss.

But there were none.

It was perfect.

A perfect fake.

The room fell silent again, the tension choking and oppressive.

Liam slowly met Ryan’s gaze, the smile gone from his face now.

****

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