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Liam Pov
"Hey," Marshall said, sliding in beside Lily. "Guys, this is Liam. We met back in the library. Liam, this is my fiancée Lily—" he gestured proudly "—and our good friend Robin."
Both women blinked at me, momentarily caught off guard. Lily recovered quickly, her smile polite but cautious. Robin, however, blushed faintly, her eyes flicking over me more than once before she managed a smile.
"Ladies," I greeted smoothly.
"Hi," Lily said brightly, shaking my hand briefly.
"Hey," Robin added, her voice a little softer, eyes lingering longer than they probably should have.
Marshall plopped down, and I slid opposite him, right beside Robin.
"So, Liam," Marshall leaned in, "what are you up to these days?"
"I'm working as a prosecutor for the New York DA's office," I said casually, sipping my drink.
Marshall's grin widened. "That's awesome, man! Fighting the good fight."
Before I could reply, Robin jumped in, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Prosecutor, huh? That sounds… intense. What kind of cases do you handle?"
"Drug case lately," I said, carefully neutral. "Keeps me busy."
Robin's eyes glinted—half genuine interest, half reporter's instinct. "So you must see all kinds of shady characters then. Any big names?"
I smirked. "Nice try, but you know I can't discuss active cases."
She pouted playfully, tilting her head. "Can't blame a girl for asking."
Lily cut in, giving me a curious look. "So, Liam… why law? You don't exactly strike me as the kind of guy who sits buried in paperwork."
"I wanted to be where the stakes mattered," I replied honestly. "Paperwork is part of it, but in the end, it's about making sure people are held accountable."
Lily studied me for a moment, as if weighing my words against Robin's quiet blush. She smiled faintly, satisfied for now.
Marshall chuckled, breaking the moment. "Man, you'd kill it in a courtroom. You've got that whole 'calm but scary smart' vibe going."
Robin laughed softly. "He's not wrong. You kind of look like the guy defense lawyers hate to see walk in."
I raised an eyebrow at her. "That's quite the compliment without even seeing me in action"
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Maybe I should see you in action."
"Maybe" I smiled back
The conversation flowed easily after that. Marshall told a few exaggerated stories about law school, Lily threw in sarcastic corrections, and Robin kept circling back to me with questions—where I studied, family and more.
Some were clearly professional curiosity, but others felt more personal, her eyes locking with mine longer than necessary.
Half an hour passed quickly. Lily, ever protective, occasionally threw in pointed questions like "Do you believe in balancing work with family?" but she did it with a smile.
She was testing me, making sure I wasn't just another ambitious, self-absorbed lawyer. I answered with ease, not overselling, just being straightforward.
It worked and by the end of the conversation, both Marshall and Lily were laughing comfortably, and Robin… Robin was still stealing glances.
I checked the time in my HUD—five minutes to eleven. Time to go.
"Well," I said, setting my empty glass on the table, "this has been great, but I've got to head out."
Marshall frowned. "Already? Man, you should come by again. Ted would love to meet you."
"Yeah," I said with a small smile. "Maybe next time."
We exchanged numbers—Marshall insisted, saying, "Dude, we're friends now, no excuses."
I stood, gave a nod to Lily, and offered Robin a polite smile. Her eyes lingered on me as I turned and walked toward the door.
The night air outside was cooler, calmer. I slipped on my helmet, the pub's warm laughter fading behind me as I headed back to my bike.
[You do realize Robin was practically undressing you with her eyes, right?] Eve teased.
I smirked inside my helmet. "Yeah, I noticed."
[And you didn't do anything?]
"Not the right time," I muttered, starting the engine.
The roar of the bike drowned out Eve's chuckle as I sped into the New York night.
The city night was calmer than usual, or maybe it was just me trying to quiet down the rush of thoughts in my head. The streets of New York still hummed with activity — the occasional honk of a cab, the distant chatter of people spilling out of bars, the glow of neon signs cutting through the cool darkness. I leaned forward on my bike, the steady hum of the engine vibrating under me, guiding me back to the West Side where Nexor Lab sat tucked between an office building and an old warehouse.
I rolled into the empty street just before the clock touched eleven.
I killed the engine, the growl of my bike fading into the night. For a moment, silence took over. Just the sound of my breath and the faint hum of electricity running in the wires overhead. The building was dark, save for a thin strip of light that escaped under the door. He was still in there, running the tests.
I leaned against my bike, arms folded, waiting. Time stretched, my mind replaying everything—Seraphina's name, Hale's smug face, the memory of the Sharingan draining me earlier at Velvet Rose, and now this powder. Something about it gnawed at me.
The door clicked open.
Alex stepped out, holding a single sheet of paper in one hand, his other hand shoved deep into his lab coat pocket. He didn't bother with greetings or small talk
His glasses caught the glow of the streetlight as he raised the paper between us.
"Here," he said flatly. "Preliminary results."
I pushed off my bike and walked toward him, taking the sheet. His handwriting was neat, clinical, filled with numbers, chemical notations, and percentages. The kind of stuff I could read but not truly understand.
Alex tapped the page with his finger as he began explaining.
"The powder looks fine on surface-level tests. Standard lactose markers, nothing abnormal in chemical bonds or outside tampering. But when I compared the nutritional profile to regular lactose powder, something stood out."
I scanned the highlighted section he pointed at. The numbers for protein jumped out immediately—higher than normal.
"Protein content," Alex continued, his voice calm but precise. "It's off. By a significant margin. Regular lactose powder, derived from milk, should never contain this level of protein. It's unnatural. My guess? Something has been infused directly into the formula. Not added later—infused. Built into it at the source level."
I frowned, the paper crinkling slightly in my hand. "So… no trace of tampering?"
"Exactly. None. Whatever this is, it's not sloppy work. Whoever did it designed this from scratch, down to the molecular blueprint. If you were expecting a standard street mix job, this isn't it. This is engineered."
Engineered. That word sat heavy in my chest.
Alex straightened his glasses. "These are just preliminary results. For the complete breakdown I'll need more time. I'll send you the full report once the analysis is complete."
I gave a curt nod. "Good. Send it here." I slid a slip of paper toward him, on it the system email ID. Alex glanced at it once, memorized it, and tucked it away.
That was all. No pleasantries. No wasted words. He simply gave a small nod, turned, and disappeared back into the darkness of the lab. The lock clicked shut behind him.
I folded the paper neatly, tucked it into my hoodie pocket, and walked back to my bike.
The city air was colder now, brushing against the sweat that still lingered from earlier. I slid my helmet on and the HUD blinked alive, Eve's presence slipping into my thoughts like a familiar shadow.
[What are your thoughts on this?] Eve's voice carried in the calm, steady tone she always used.
I exhaled slowly, starting the bike. "Side effects."
[Side effects?] she repeated, her tone sharpening with curiosity.
"Yes." I revved the engine softly, pulling out into the street.
"If this lactose powder has been engineered with higher protein content, then the question is—what does it do to the body? Improved performance? Maybe but such performance doesn't come without risk. Nothing does. There has to be a cost. A side effect."
[Interesting. You think Hale is aware of that?]
I smirked bitterly under the helmet.
"If Hale is knee-deep in this, then he doesn't care about side effects. He cares about profit. Which means—this is about money. A lot of money."
[More than cocaine?] Eve's voice was skeptical, edged with disbelief.
I tightened my grip on the throttle, weaving past a yellow cab. "That's the part that bothers me. Cocaine's already worth millions. But something like this…" I paused, considering my words. "If it's marketed as clean, legal, or—God forbid—'healthy,' then it could outdo cocaine in revenue. Especially if the right people push it."
[You think it's that big?] she asked
I didn't answer immediately. My eyes scanned the road, the blur of neon passing on both sides.
My gut twisted, that same instinct that had been with me since the day I stepped into the DA's office and told me something big is happening in this case.
Finally, I muttered, "If money wasn't involved, why would someone like Marcus Hale touch it? He's not an idealist, not a scientist. He wouldn't waste time unless there was serious cash on the table."
[Indeed] Eve replied, her voice thoughtful.
[But that also means you're not just fighting a case anymore. You're stepping into something that's hidden, engineered, and controlled by people far more resourceful than the average street dealer.]
A dry laugh slipped past my lips. "Yeah, I figured."
The bike sped down an empty avenue, the sound echoing against the tall glass buildings. My reflection stared back at me briefly in the dark windows—helmet on, shoulders tense, carrying the weight of something that felt bigger by the minute.
Eve broke the silence again [So what's the plan?]
"Tomorrow's dismissal hearing comes first," I replied firmly.
"Once that's locked in, we start unraveling the bigger picture if there is something wrong with this powder, the money behind it, and whoever engineered it but one step at a time."
Agreed.
The HUD dimmed slightly, leaving me alone with the hum of the city night.
By the time I reached my building, the weight of exhaustion began to creep into my bones. I parked in my usual spot in the basement, the tires screeching softly as they came to rest. The elevator ride up was quiet, just the faint buzz of fluorescent lights above me.
I unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside. The faint smell of pizza still lingered from dinner with Emma. The living room was dark except for the soft glow of her laptop on the couch. She'd fallen asleep there, her head resting against the armrest, the screen still open to lines of code.
I stood there for a moment, watching. She looked peaceful, unaware of the storm brewing around me. Part of me wanted to shake her awake, tell her everything—the case, Hale, the powder, the danger. But the other part knew better. This wasn't her fight.
Quietly, I walked past, into my room.
The hoodie came off first, then the jeans, tossed neatly onto the chair. I collapsed onto the bed, the paper from Alex still burning in my pocket. I pulled it out, set it on the nightstand, and let myself fall back into the mattress.
My body finally gave in to the exhaustion. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was Eve's voice, faint but steady in my mind.
[Get some rest, Liam. Tomorrow will test everything.]
And then—darkness.
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