Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 78: Everything On The Line 2

Liam’s left forearm came up, blocking, but the impact of the brass knuckles sent a jolt of pain through his arm.

He stepped back, shaking his arm slightly.

’He’s pressing. Getting more aggressive. And his punches are getting trickier—feints, angle changes, combinations I’m not expecting.’

Near the back of the crowd, Tasha stood with her hands crossed, her eyes locked on the fight.

Everyone around her was absorbed, shouting, cheering, their attention completely focused on Liam and Shay.

Her gaze landed on a man standing two feet to her left.

He was tall, maybe six feet, wearing a dark green jacket. His hands were raised, clapping, shouting encouragement at Shay. His wallet sat in his back right pocket, the leather worn and bulging slightly.

Tasha’s eyes flicked back to the fight, then back to the man.

’Everyone’s distracted.’

Her right hand moved slowly. She took a small step closer, her body angling slightly.

The crowd roared as Shay threw another combination.

Her gaze caught on something—a folding knife clipped to the inside of his pocket, the metal clip just barely visible.

Her hand moved slowly, fingers slipping into his pocket. She felt the knife, gripped it between two fingers, and pulled it free in one smooth motion.

The man didn’t notice. He was still shouting, his eyes locked on the fight.

Tasha stepped back, her hand returning to her pocket with the knife. She flicked it open with her thumb, the blade locking into place with a quiet click that was swallowed by the noise of the crowd.

The blade was about three inches long, thin and sharp.

She held it low, hidden against her thigh, and turned her attention back to the fight.

’He’s not getting anywhere. He needs an edge.’

In the center, Liam threw another combination—left jab, right cross, left hook—all aimed at different targets, trying to overwhelm Shay’s defenses.

Shay blocked the jab with his right forearm, ducked under the cross, and caught the hook with his left elbow.

’Nothing’s working.’

Shay pressed forward immediately, throwing a right hook aimed at Liam’s jaw.

Liam held his breath and slipped it, his head moving left.

Shay’s left hand came in fast, a straight punch aimed at Liam’s nose.

Liam’s head snapped back, the punch missing by a fraction.

Shay threw a right uppercut aimed at Liam’s body.

Liam twisted, the punch glancing off his side.

’He’s getting faster. His combinations are tighter. He’s adjusting to everything I do.’

They separated again, both men sweating now, their breathing heavier.

A voice cut through the crowd, loud and confident. "He ain’t found nothing yet! That’s why we call him the Iron Man—you can’t find a weak point! Every shot gets blocked! He don’t leave nothing open!"

The crowd erupted, chanting.

"Iron Man! Iron Man! Iron Man!"

Liam’s jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving Shay.

’Iron Man. huh, they’re not wrong his defence gets better the more I try.’

Shay rolled his shoulders, his grin widening. "You’re quick, I’ll give you that. But you’re running out of ideas. And I’m just getting warmed up."

The timer ticked down.

[8:12]

[8:11]

Shay came in again, and this time his movements were sharper, more calculated.

He threw a left jab as a feint, then immediately followed with a right cross aimed at Liam’s temple, but halfway through the cross, he pulled it back and threw a left hook to the body instead.

Liam’s body reacted to the feint, his head moving right—

—but Shay’s hook was already coming in low.

Liam twisted hard, his abs tightening, the hook landing against his left side with a dull thud.

Pain flared, sharp and immediate.

’He tricked me. Made me react to something that wasn’t coming.’

Shay didn’t stop. He threw a right uppercut aimed at Liam’s chin.

Liam held his breath and his head pulled back, the uppercut missing.

Shay stepped in closer, throwing a left hook aimed at Liam’s ribs.

Liam’s right elbow dropped, blocking, but the brass knuckles connected with his forearm, sending another jolt of pain up his arm.

He stepped back, his chest rising and falling.

’He’s getting better. Reading me faster. His combinations are unpredictable now.’

Tasha watched from the edge of the crowd, her fingers tightening around the knife.

’He’s not winning. He’s just surviving.’

"Liam"

She drew her arm back and threw the knife in one smooth motion.

The blade spun through the air, end over end, glinting under the yellow light.

It flew across the circle, over the heads of the crowd, and landed on the floor near Liam’s feet with a soft clatter.

Liam’s eyes flicked down for a split second.

He saw the knife.

His eyes moved to Tasha, just for a moment.

She met his gaze, her expression unreadable but urgent.

Liam’s mind processed it instantly.

’A knife.’

Shay was already moving, throwing a right cross aimed at Liam’s jaw.

Liam held his breath and ducked low, dropping to one knee.

His right hand shot out, his fingers closing around the handle of the knife.

Shay’s punch sailed over his head.

Liam came up fast, the blade hidden along the inside of his right forearm, the handle gripped firmly in his palm.

Shay reset, grinning. "Getting tired yet, kid?"

Liam didn’t answer. His stance shifted slightly, his right hand positioned differently now, the blade concealed.

’Alright. Let’s see how he blocks this.’

The timer ticked down.

[6:47]

[6:46]

Liam came in, throwing a left jab at Shay’s face.

Shay’s right forearm came up, blocking.

Liam followed with a right straight, the knife still hidden against his forearm, aimed at Shay’s chest.

Shay’s left hand came up to block—

—and Liam twisted his wrist at the last second, the blade flicking out from behind his forearm.

Shay saw it too late.

The blade cut across his left forearm, slicing through fabric and skin. Blood welled up immediately, a thin red line appearing across his arm.

Shay pulled back, his eyes widening. "What the—"

Liam didn’t give him time to process. He pressed forward, throwing a left hook at Shay’s jaw.

Shay’s right hand came up to block, but his left arm was hurt, his defense compromised.

Liam threw a right straight, the knife leading, aimed at Shay’s shoulder.

Shay twisted, trying to avoid it, but the blade caught his right shoulder, cutting through his shirt and opening another shallow cut.

Blood stained the dark blue fabric, spreading quickly.

Shay stumbled back, his jaw tight, his eyes hard. "You little shit—"

He came in fast, throwing a wild right hook aimed at Liam’s head.

Liam held his breath and ducked, the hook missing.

He came up inside Shay’s guard and drove the knife forward, aiming for Shay’s ribs.

Shay’s left elbow came down, trying to block, but his arm was injured, slower.

The blade cut across his side, just below his ribs, another shallow slice.

Shay grunted, pain flashing across his face.

He threw a desperate left uppercut.

Liam’s head pulled back, the punch missing.

Liam stepped in and drove his left fist into Shay’s solar plexus, a hard, straight punch.

Shay’s breath exploded out of him, his body folding slightly.

Liam followed with a right hook—the knife still in his hand—aimed at Shay’s jaw.

The handle of the knife connected with the side of Shay’s face with a solid crack.

Shay’s head snapped to the side, his feet stumbling, his balance failing.

Liam didn’t stop.

He threw a left hook to Shay’s ribs.

Shay’s right arm tried to block, but it was weak, uncoordinated.

The punch landed clean, driving into his side.

Shay gasped, his knees buckling.

Liam stepped in and drove a right uppercut—using the pommel of the knife—into Shay’s chin.

The impact snapped Shay’s head back, his eyes rolling slightly.

His legs gave out.

He dropped to his knees, swaying, blood dripping from the cuts on his arms and side, his breathing ragged.

The crowd went silent.

Dead silent.

Liam stood over him, the knife still in his hand, blood on the blade, his chest rising and falling.

The timer in his vision continued to tick.

[4:23]

[4:22]

Slowly, the crowd began to react. Whispers at first, then louder voices.

"He got him—"

"Iron Man’s down—"

"He cut him—"

Shay looked up at Liam, blood running down his arm, his face pale. His jaw worked, but no words came out.

Liam crouched down, bringing himself to Shay’s eye level. His voice was quiet, calm.

"I told you what I wanted. The business. And everything else."

He held Shay’s gaze.

"So here’s how this works now. I open my shop. I run it however I want. You don’t come around. You don’t send your guys. You don’t ask for anything."

He paused, then leaned in slightly.

"Actually, scratch that. This whole operation? It’s mine now. Your crew, your territory, all of it. You work for me."

Shay’s eyes widened slightly, his breathing heavy, blood dripping onto the floor.

"I’ll be back later," Liam continued. "When you can actually stand up from the beating I just gave you. And when I come back, you’re going to bow. Make it official in front of everyone."

He stood up, looking down at Shay.

"Until then, get yourself patched up."

Liam wiped the blade on his pants, then folded it closed. He slipped it into his pocket and turned toward the door.

The crowd parted immediately, stepping aside.

He stopped in the doorway and turned back, looking at the crowd, at the men still standing there in shock.

"I won," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "So I’m your boss now"

"Okay, boss."

"Yes, boss."

"Got it, boss."

Liam nodded once, then turned and stepped outside.

Tasha fell in beside him, her eyes still on the crowd behind them, watching to make sure no one tried anything.

Davies followed, his face pale, his hands shaking.

The fresh air hit Liam’s face as he kept walking down the sidewalk.

Behind him, the door swung shut.

The street was quiet. Clean. Normal.

Liam exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing.

The timer in his vision finally expired.

[0:00]

[Breathless Step: INACTIVE]

[Cooldown: 2 hours]

Tasha glanced at him. "You good?"

Liam flexed his right arm, feeling the ache in his forearm and shoulder. But he was standing.

He nodded. "Yeah. I’m good."

---

They reached the building—the red brick storefront with the large windows.

Liam stopped and looked at it.

His building now. Actually his.

Davies cleared his throat, his voice still shaky. "I’ll... I’ll start the paperwork. Should have everything ready by end of week."

Liam nodded. "Do that."

Davies hurried to his car, moving quickly like he couldn’t wait to get away from all of this.

Liam stood there, staring at the building, Tasha beside him.

"So," she said quietly. "You got what you wanted."

Liam nodded. "Yeah."

"And now?"

He turned to look at her. "Now I get to celebrate with someone special."