Ethan descended into the basement. The corridor split into a series of identical doors facing each other on the left and right, with a final, heavy door sealing the end of the hallway. Moving with absolute vigilance, his guard raised, Ethan approached the final door and shoved it open.
The sharp, chemical sting of paint fumes instantly hit his nose. Inside, rows of pristine paint buckets and industrial rollers were neatly stacked.
Paint? Brand new paint? Ethan thought, a brow twitching. I thought they were a ruthless criminal organization, but they're just running paint business?
He advanced three more steps, noticing a concealed doorway tucked behind the inventory. Slipping inside, the room opened up into a high-tech hub lined with terminal servers. At the very end of the room stood three massive, glowing monitors.
Ethan walked up to the displays, his eyes scanning the logistics data. His expression hardened.
So that's the angle. They're trafficking narcotics overseas, sealing the contraband inside the paint buckets.
"This organization is thoroughly rotten," Ethan muttered.
Wanting concrete proof, he pulled his phone from his tactical vest, powered it on, and began snapping photos of the shipping manifests and drug formulas displayed on the screens. Yet, a nagging question remained in his mind.
Why would the Chairman explicitly tell me to look for this room?
Meanwhile, across the street...
Inside the hotel elevator, the Chairman smoothed down his suit jacket as the floors ticked upward. A smug smile tugged at his lips.
I handed you our deepest secret on a silver platter, kid. Now let's see if you can actually survive long enough to use it. Beast's men will be arriving.
The elevator chime echoed through the penthouse floor, and the steel doors slid open. The Chairman stepped out onto the luxurious marble floor, coming face-to-face with Liam and Asher.
"Welcome, Mr. Chairman," Liam said, his hand resting inches from his holster.
The Chairman smiled warmly. "Greetings, military officers. To what do I owe the pleasure of this uninvited visit?"
"Who would have thought Loop's fourth branch would be tucked away in a place like this? Nice setup you've got here, by the way," Liam replied, scanning the room.
"Ah, thank you for the compliment, Officer," the Chairman chuckled. He took a slow, deep breath, his smile fading into a cold, ruthless stare. "But forgive me if I'm rude—this is the last room you two will ever see."
Neither Liam nor Asher flinched. Their composure remained absolute.
"Let's begin shall we?" The chairman said.
Liam nodded, "Asher, leave him to me."
Asher nodded, "Okay."
At the exact same moment, Liam and the Chairman rushed each other. Fists blurs in the air as they exchanged a ferocious volley of strikes, both men expertly parrying and dodging each other's lethal blows. After a relentless minute of high-speed sparring, they simultaneously broke apart, creating distance.
"You're remarkably light on your feet for a corporate suit," Liam panted, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
"When did I ever say I was just a businessman?" the Chairman smirked.
Liam lunged forward, throwing a blinding left hook, but the Chairman slipped the blow effortlessly. Countering with terrifying speed, the Chairman drove a heavy punch straight into Liam's abdomen. Liam managed to cross his forearms at the absolute last second to block, but the sheer force of the impact lifted his feet off the ground, throwing him backward until his spine slammed into the concrete wall.
He was holding back during the warm-up, Liam realized, the wind knocked out of him.
In a flash, the Chairman closed the distance, throwing a vicious right cross aimed directly at Liam's jaw. Liam twisted violently, flipping sideways along the wall to evade the strike.
"So you were holding back. Impressive strength," Liam said, resetting his stance.
The Chairman mockingly snapped a perfect military salute. "Much appreciated."
Liam moved forward again, aiming a snap-punch directly at the Chairman's nose. The Chairman bobbed his head to the side, countering with another heavy strike. Liam managed to intercept it with both hands, but a jarring shockwave rippled through his bones.
It was only the second attack he had directly blocked, and his forearms were already trembling from the raw power. Gritting his teeth, Liam pressed the offensive, unleashing a rapid succession of lethal kicks. The Chairman evaded every single one with casual, fluid steps.
"Officer, that standard military martial art you're utilizing is completely useless against me," the Chairman chided.
Liam leaped backward, creating a safe zone. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you honestly not recognize who I am?" the Chairman asked, striking a dramatic, imposing pose.
"No," Liam said flatly.
The Chairman's cool facade instantly cracked. He dropped his hands, exasperated. "What the hell, man! Just play along with the monologue!"
Coughing to clear his throat, the Chairman tried to recover his dignified posture. "You are currently using a martial art that I personally engineered."
"Don't lie to me," Liam countered sternly. "This combat style was gifted to our special forces by the United States military as a token of tactical alliance."
"And when exactly did that happen?" the Chairman asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Six years ago. A joint-task group of American soldiers arrived at our base in Canada and trained our elite units."
The Chairman nodded knowingly. "Exactly. That was me."