The sound of the explosion soon caused a crowd, the sounds of sirens and the fire department shouting at each other as they put down the fire.
The customers looked so terrified, as some of them stayed behind to help out with the cleaning, while the rest left out of fear.
Luckily, there were zero casualties—only nine were injured. The rest were in perfect condition.
"So sir, what did you say happened here?" a constable asked, holding up a clipboard as cameras surrounded Liam.
The other police staff tried pushing them away, but you know how the media is—always a pest to situations, never really helping unless it's about information discharge.
Liam sat up on a stool they recovered from the fire. Though it was half-burnt, it was still comfortable enough to sit on.
"I don't know much, sir," he said, fixing his throat. "We just welcomed a man who claimed to be a health inspector. He showed us legitimate documents, and so we believed him. After his inspection, little did we know he had planted a bomb in the kitchen. Luckily, no one went back there before the explosion happened," he said, trying to cover his face from the flashing cameras.
"And can you describe this person, sir?" the constable continued, leaning forward.
They seriously couldn't find a better place to ask these questions? It was right outside the building, in front of the freaking media. How foolish were they, really?
"My memory is foggy, sir. I'm currently still in shock. Can you ask these questions later?" he muttered, chasing away the constable, who didn't seem like he wanted to go away.
"Alright, sir. Please take care of your health," the constable said, standing up and walking toward their car parked not very far from where they sat.
"Foolish police," Liam said in detest, "do things right for once."
He stood up and walked toward Mia, who he specifically warned not to question due to her shock—she hadn't fully recovered from the damage yet.
He too still hadn't recovered. How would he be able to pay for the damage caused to the building? He had spent almost all the money on renovating it in the first place.
He stared at the phone, but no system notification popped up—just normal messages from people he didn't really know.
"Huff!" He sighed, walking closer to Mia. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Slightly," she responded. She was in a lot of shock earlier, but due to his Charisma Boost the system granted him, she had calmed down a lot more.
"That's better," he said, turning toward Sera, who seemed piqued about the explosion, talking to herself like she was mad.
"Uhm... Sera, right?" he said, hoping to be right about her name.
She turned, glancing at him like she was just recovering from a memory she was lost in. "Yeah, that's me. What's up?"
He stared at her, blatant about her response. What's up?, really? In this situation, you're asking what's up?
"How were you able to fight him though, and how are you so good at these kinds of situations?" he asked. Her earlier answers hadn't settled in him yet.
"I am a retired mercenary—an ex-military. I worked in the army for a couple of years but got dumped after I refused to shoot at civilians of another country. I didn't just find it right, and the C.I.A., who always found me guilty, took it as an opportunity and dropped me out," she answered, staring as if she was reliving the moment.
"I see...." he said sadly, "You did the right thing then. Always believe in your conscience."
He turned back to Mia. "So what are we going to do now?" he asked.
"I don't know, Liam. I used the last of my savings on the renovations, and it just ended last week. It hasn't even been a month. Where am I supposed to get the money for another renovation?" she said, tears rolling down her face as she spoke.
Liam wanted to hug her and make her feel better, but it wouldn't help—she was right. He wasn't sure what was remaining in his account would even fix the door.
He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, when a system notification rang on his phone.
He pulled out the phone and smiled, looking at the notification, though it seemed a bit hard since he wasn't close to completing it.
[System Update: Pawn-to-King Protocol Progressing…]
New Task: Recruit 3 Allies
Reward: Predictive Combat Reflexes (Passive)
Progress: 2/3
The reward wasn't going to help him at the moment, but it would come in handy. Now he just needed money, so he decided to try something.
He typed in some words into the system to see its response.
[Money request for potential investment:
Amount needed: $50,000.
Potential reward: $100,000]
Then he sent it, and to his surprise, the system responded.
[User: Liam A. Maddox
Request: Money for potential investment.
Profit: $100,000
Checking....]
His face turned pale from waiting too long, then new texts displayed on the screen, which lit his face up with joy.
[Request confirmed. Money has been sent to your trust. Proceed with investment.]
He opened his account balance with a smile, trying to avoid looking at faces.
[Account owner: Liam A. Maddox
Account number: 8065****
Type: Savings account
Transfer type: Credit
Amount: +$50,000
Current balance: $55,000]
He couldn't believe his eyes—that actually worked? The system actually gave him fifty grand? He couldn't show his excitement because of the crowd; he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.
He turned to Sera. "I have a proposition for you, Sera."
She turned to see a man with a slightly happy face. It didn't sit right with her, but she answered anyway.
"What is it?"
"How about you become my personal bodyguard? Of course, there's something in it for you," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"I don't know. How much is in it for me?" she asked intently, playing the smart card wisely.
"Well, how about we start from the least, and if you do well over time, it increases," he proposed, raising his hand for a handshake.
She took a while, thinking about her inconvenience, the amount, and her being targeted as a potential threat. It didn't matter anyway. She was already planning on going for the guy, so why not do it for a couple bucks?
"Sounds fair enough, but where will you get the money from?" she asked, wary about his sudden proposition.
"I'm an investor, and I choose where and who I want to invest in. Where I get the money is my problem to deal with," he answered, turning to Mia.
Sera smirked at his response, then turned back to discuss with the police.
"Don't worry, Mia. I am going to pay for the damage cost. Just try and get your smile back, alright?" he said, tapping her slightly.
"I don't know how to thank you enough, Liam," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks in a heavy state.
"It's alright," he responded.
Now he had secured trust with Mia for future promotions and deals, and Sera was there to protect him—because he's going to be diving deeper into the unknown, and what's better than knowing you're being protected by the best?
The ride home was tiring. He proposed to Sera to come stay with him, but not currently, as it would inconvenience both of them—probably after a month of knowing each other thoroughly.
"What a stressful day," he muttered, falling onto the sofa.
He sat up immediately, remembering something he almost forgot—the system task.
How would he get a third ally? That's what he thought all evening. Then he drifted to the room, sat on his desk chair, and pulled open the laptop that sat on it.
He waited for it to boot, and after a while, it was fully booted. He logged into a site [low-income sole proprietors that really need help in growing their businesses].
He scrolled through the site and found potential investors but didn't find any he felt was good enough.
But he wanted to receive notifications for public investments, so he quickly logged into the site but paused at the 'username' option.
"What name would actually be fancy enough?" he muttered, filtering through the options in his head.
His memory played back to the moment they renovated the bakery and the opening ceremony. Then he remembered the panda cream cake that Mia made for him.
"Panda... sounds nice but not good," he said. Then an idea struck his thick skull.
"How about SleepyPanda?" he muttered.
Then he typed in the words SleepyPanda as his investor username.
"Done. That's all for tonight," he said, pushing the chair back, making it slide toward the bed.
He opened his account balance again, trying to make sure he hadn't dreamt about it.
It still showed the same characters and number.
"Alright! Time for bed," he said, climbing onto the bed and slowly drifting off to sleep.
□ Kieran's POV □
A man stumbled into his large office, panting hard as mild blood drops fell on the white tiled floor.
"Carl, you moron!" Kieran screamed from his chair, briefly standing up to see the floor clearly stained with blood.
"Why would you be so foolish? Who let you in?" he shouted.
"Sir, it's something important," he said, stumbling forward toward Kieran, who seemed disgusted.
"Don't come any closer, you filth!" Kieran cursed, cleaning his hands with sanitizer as though he had touched a garbage bag.
"Your cousin Liam is truly alive," he said in between breaths.
The words held the curse word about to erupt from Kieran's mouth, making it die down in his throat.
"What?" he screamed.
"Did you kill him?" he asked, his expression darkening heavily.
"No, sir. He escaped the explosion, and I barely came out alive and unharmed," Carl responded, almost sitting on the office sofa then remembering it was Kieran's office.
"Well, what am I paying you for, you fool!" Kieran cursed again, this one heavier than the last.
"I'm sorry, sir," he bowed, clutching his side.
"Do not come back here until you've killed him!" Kieran shouted, tapping on a red button that triggered an alarm, therefore calling the security personnel.
"I don't know which fool let him in. I hope this doesn't repeat itself," he commanded as they dragged him out.
He stared at the blood spills.
"What happened to his cellphone?" he muttered in disgust.
His thoughts drifted to the information Carl delivered to him.
"So, you still live, cousin. How vile of you," he spat.
"This time, I'll make sure to bury your corpse, so it doesn't wake up from the dead again," he said, briefly sipping a glass of whiskey he left on his table.