Chapter 134 – Knocking on the Door for a Child
"Ian, if you wanted to dig up dirt on someone, where would you start?"
"Dirt?" Ian raised an eyebrow. "What—are you trying to dig up dirt on William?"
As his brother, Ian knew Lip a little too well.
"Yeah," Lip said through clenched teeth. "That bastard. He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Why?" Ian frowned. "He seems like a decent guy. Did he piss you off or something?"
Ian genuinely didn't understand why Lip hated William so much.
"Forget it. It's complicated," Lip brushed him off, snatching the cigarette from Ian's mouth and taking a drag.
Ian watched him stew there, looking like no one in the world could possibly understand him, and felt completely lost.
---
Meanwhile.
William and Fiona headed straight for The Alibi.
If Frank was anywhere, it would be here.
If the bar didn't close during the day, Frank would happily live here twenty-four hours a day.
Sure enough, the moment they walked in, they spotted Frank slumped at the bar, drinking.
"FRANK! WHERE'S LIAM?!"
The instant Fiona realized Liam wasn't with him, her heart dropped.
Frank was already a little drunk. When he recognized Fiona, his heart skipped—and he immediately started glancing around nervously.
"Uh… he… Liam's… staying over at a friend's place. First sleepover," Frank lied, forcing what he thought was a friendly smile, hoping it would sell the story.
Fiona had been his daughter for decades. She knew every tell, every twitch.
"LIAM IS TWO YEARS OLD."
"Well, kids that age sleep a lot," Frank said, completely dodging the point. "Probably slept through—"
"WHERE. IS. LIAM?!"
Fiona snapped again, voice razor-sharp.
"Alright! Alright! Stop yelling!" Frank cracked.
"He… he's being held as collateral."
"What the hell?!" Kevin blurted out from behind the bar, washing a glass.
"Frank, you used Liam as collateral?!"
"What's going on, Kev?" Fiona demanded, realizing he clearly knew something.
Kevin glanced at William standing beside her.
"I'll explain," William said calmly. "I was there."
He proceeded to recount the whole story—Frank's bet with the Black guy, the taser, the ten thousand dollars.
"Really?" Fiona stared at Frank in disbelief.
"Are you insane? Frank, where did you think you'd get ten grand to gamble with?!"
"What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Frank protested.
"You would've believed it too! That guy wasn't human—no normal person could tank two taser shots!"
"FUCK YOU, FRANK!!!"
Fiona screamed, clutching her head.
Every patron in the bar turned to stare.
"Where is Liam?" she said coldly, locking eyes with him.
"I'm serious, Frank."
Under that stare, Frank finally wilted.
"I… I'll take you there."
"You'd better," Fiona snarled, yanking him off the stool.
"Get up. NOW."
---
Some time later.
Inside the Black guy's apartment.
He was holding Liam in his arms, sitting with the rest of the gang, watching TV.
Suddenly, a violent knock slammed against the door.
The men exchanged glances.
The Black guy immediately went back to the bedroom, grabbed his shotgun, and moved to the door.
He checked through the peephole.
A man and a woman. Strangers.
He opened the door and instantly raised the shotgun, the muzzle pointed straight at the woman standing in front.
Fiona had stormed up full of momentum—but the moment the door opened and a shotgun was aimed at her head, her hands shot up instinctively.
"Who the fuck are you?" the Black guy snarled, gun trained on her.
Fiona froze for half a second, then said firmly,
"I'm here to take Liam back."
At the name Liam, the Black guy relaxed slightly.
"Liam stays. He's collateral."
As he spoke, he glanced at William—and when he turned, the shotgun's muzzle swung toward him.
Truth be told, William didn't care if the gun was pointed at Fiona.
But pointed at him?
Yeah, no.
Before the Black guy—or anyone else in the room—could react, William used Metal Control to lock the shotgun's trigger in place, making it impossible to pull.
Then he reached out, grabbed the barrel, and with sheer brute force ripped the shotgun out of the man's hands.
The Black guy stared at him, dumbfounded.
[Detected compatible weapon. Register to the Armory Shop?]
"Yes."
William answered silently.
He flipped the gun around, leveling it at the Black guy.
Instantly, the men behind him tensed up, weapons snapping up and aiming at William and Fiona.
Well—almost everyone.
Frank was already flat on the floor, curled up behind them.
The atmosphere turned razor-tight.
Fiona broke it.
"If you're going to shoot," she said calmly,
"you'd better do it fast."
Then she walked straight inside.
That single move shattered the tension.
The guns slowly lowered.
William didn't escalate further. He casually tossed the shotgun back to the Black guy.
"That gun's not great," William said.
"If you want better gear, try your luck in the red-light district."
As he passed, he gave the man a light pat on the shoulder.
A potential customer.
Only then did the Black guy notice Frank.
Frank forced a sleazy grin.
"Hey—good to see you again."
"Shut the fuck up," the Black guy snapped, already pissed and even less happy to see Frank.
Inside the apartment, Fiona spotted Liam immediately and rushed over, pulling him into her arms.
"Hey, little guy. You okay?"
She kissed his forehead. "Let's go home."
As she turned to leave, the Black guy stopped her.
"You can take the kid. But what about the money?"
Fiona didn't hesitate.
"The debt's Frank's. Keep him."
She looked at Frank without a trace of emotion.
"Sell him as a male prostitute. Harvest his organs. Do whatever you want.
Though honestly—he's been an alcoholic for decades. I doubt anything inside him still works.
Your call."
Her voice was ice-cold.
Frank's face fell.
"Hey! Fiona! How can you say that about your own father?!"
"Shut up, Frank," she snapped.
"Have you ever acted like one?"