Chapter 72 – A Warning, and Refining Explosives
Lori—Theresa's roommate—had spent the entire night searching for her.
Of course, this wasn't because she cared.
It was because she wanted Theresa dead.
Like Theresa, Lori was a medical student.
In the original timeline, nearly every one of Theresa's deaths could be traced back to Lori's hands.
The reason for her bone-deep hatred was painfully simple:
A man.
Gregory.
To be honest, William couldn't understand it.
Why a washed-up older man like Gregory had such overwhelming appeal that two women in the same dorm room became obsessed with him.
But it was precisely this obsession that shattered Lori's reason.
When she found out Theresa was sleeping with Gregory, jealousy consumed her completely.
Her mind collapsed into a single, obsessive thought:
Kill Theresa.
Take Gregory back.
So after stewing in murderous intent all night, seeing Theresa alive again sent Lori into a barely contained frenzy.
"Fuck off," Theresa snapped coldly.
"Where I go is none of your business. What's wrong with you?"
No matter how much of a bitch she was, Theresa had never lacked bite.
She didn't flinch in the face of Lori's aggression.
That single retort made Lori freeze.
She stood there, stammering, unable to come up with a single justification.
After what she'd been through the night before, Theresa was exhausted—physically and mentally.
All she wanted was to crawl back into her dorm and sleep.
She walked past Lori without another glance.
As Theresa's back disappeared into the dormitory, Lori's eyes hardened.
That murderous intent hadn't faded in the slightest.
Not far away, William had witnessed the entire exchange.
And he remembered now—
Lori was the final boss of Happy Death Day.
William didn't care about Theresa as a person.
To him, she was a tool.
But precisely because of that, he wasn't about to let someone casually break his property.
So he called out.
Hearing his voice, Theresa turned back, stepping out of the dorm with a puzzled look.
"Come here," William said calmly.
"There's something I still need to tell you."
Seeing the interaction between William and Theresa, Lori cursed under her breath—bitch—and turned away, leaving.
Once Lori was gone, Theresa returned to William's side.
"I thought you said we should keep our distance at school?" she asked, confused.
Instead of answering, William asked his own question.
"That girl just now—the one dressed like a nurse. Who is she?"
"Lori?" Theresa replied, frowning.
"My roommate. Why?"
William's expression didn't change.
"She looks at you with hatred," he said flatly.
"You'd better be careful."
Theresa blinked, momentarily stunned—
unaware that her life had just been spared by a single, casual warning.
"What do you mean?" Theresa asked.
Calling Theresa a bitch was completely fair.
Even though they lived in the same dorm, she had never once bothered to really look at Lori.
No wonder Lori had turned so extreme.
That said, Lori wasn't some innocent victim either—at best, they were evenly matched.
And objectively speaking, Theresa was prettier.
"Well," William said calmly, "trust my professional judgment. The look in your roommate's eyes just now—something was very wrong with it."
With that, he didn't bother checking whether Theresa understood or not and simply walked away from the dorm entrance.
He had already warned her.
That was more than enough.
If Theresa still ended up getting taken out by Lori after this,
then it could only be chalked up to bad luck.
---
The South Side couldn't really be considered a single area.
It was divided into Black neighborhoods, white neighborhoods, and Latino neighborhoods.
As for asian residents—there were plenty of Filipino, Vietnamese, Laotian, and Korean communities.
The Latino district.
William didn't drive there.
On one hand, his car was still at Brad's shop being repaired.
On the other hand, if he parked a decent car in the Latino district, it would be gone the moment he turned his back.
That's why the cars parked along the street here were all worthless beaters.
William's purpose was simple:
He needed someone to steal something for him.
And the reason for stealing that something was, naturally, Sisyphus.
If he wanted to retrieve Sisyphus without anyone noticing,
then every surveillance camera on campus had to stop working at the same time.
The best way to shut down cameras?
A blackout.
Based on the information he'd gathered around Alibi, William arrived at what appeared—on the surface—to be an auto repair shop.
Whether they repaired cars inside… or stripped them for parts, he didn't really care.
Before going in, however, he ran into a familiar face.
Steve had just finished a delivery and was about to take his freshly earned cash out for some fun.
Head-on, he spotted a handsome guy who looked vaguely familiar.
"Been a while, Steve," William said with a grin.
Perfect timing.
Steve was excellent at stealing cars.
"We… know each other?" Steve asked, clearly having forgotten William almost entirely.
"That night at the club," William reminded him.
"The one where we got into it with those Black bodyguards. Ring a bell? Steve—or should I say, Jimmy?"
"It's you!?"
That did it. Steve finally remembered.
"Wait—hold on! I have nothing to do with that girl anymore! Why are you here again!?"
Steve immediately tensed, assuming trouble.
"Relax, man. I'm not here for you."
Hearing that, Steve let out a quiet breath of relief.
But then it clicked.
If William wasn't here to settle scores, and still showed up here, there were only a few possibilities:
One—selling stolen goods.
Two—mistakenly thinking this was a legitimate repair shop.
Three—looking to buy a stolen vehicle.
William hadn't driven here, so option one was out.
This was the Latino district—normal people didn't come here for repairs unless they were Latino.
Which meant William was probably here to buy a hot vehicle.
"So if you're not here to mess with me," Steve asked cautiously, sensing opportunity,
"what are you here for?"
"Funny thing is," William said, flashing his white teeth,
"coming to you works just fine."
---
Ten minutes later, across the street at a taco stand.
William and Steve sat facing each other.
"You want that?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"I thought you were looking for something fancy."
He hadn't expected William to ask him to get an RV.
"What I need it for isn't your concern," William replied casually, taking a bite of his taco.
"Just tell me if you can get one."
The taco wasn't bad.
Steve fell silent for a moment.
"Give me your number. I should have something for you by this afternoon."
William handed over his phone number and left.
With the RV handled, the only thing left was raw materials.
Thinking that, William made a call to Svetlana and told her to prepare a batch of supplies.
Time passed quickly.
By evening, an RV—identical to the one used by Walter White—slowly rolled along the southern Chicago shoreline near Lake Michigan.