Lust System: Conquering the World Beauties-Chapter 199 COD II

He grabbed hold of one chain mid-air, blood instantly gushing from his hand as the barbs sliced deep into his skin. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he yanked it, pulling the man off balance for the first time.

Liam ran up a nearby wall, flipped over, and kicked the man square in the chest with both legs.

The man stumbled.

Liam didn’t let him recover. He followed it up with a flurry of Dragon Step-enhanced punches, moving so fast that his arms became a blur.

Fist to ribs.

Fist to jaw.

Elbow to temple.

The man swung wildly, chains flailing, but Liam ducked and countered with a roundhouse kick to the head.

The man staggered back, his face now dripping blood.

Liam grinned. "Still standing? I gotta say... respect."

The man spat. "You hit like a fly."

"And yet," Liam said, lunging forward, "you’re bleeding like a pig."

He ducked another chain, drove a knee into the man’s gut, and finally, with one last burst of Dragon Step, shot into the air and delivered a devastating flying knee to the side of his head.

Crack!

The man crumpled.

Liam landed on his feet, panting.

Jack had fallen to the ground, too stunned to move.

Liam looked at him coldly.

"Your turn’s next."

Liam stepped forward slowly, his boots crunching against shards of broken wood and scattered glass on the factory floor. Jack was crawling backward on his butt, hands trembling as he tried to push himself away. His eyes were locked on Liam, wide with fear and disbelief. But just as Liam was about to reach him, something made him stop.

Behind Jack, the shadows shifted.

The sound of metal grinding against itself echoed through the room like nails dragging across steel. Liam’s eyes snapped up.

Jack’s uncle was standing again.

"What the hell..." Liam muttered.

The man was no longer hunched over or staggering. His back was straight, and his muscles bulged unnaturally beneath his torn black shirt. His eyes had changed—now glowing faintly with something dark, something furious. The chains from his arms slithered and coiled like serpents, alive with intent.

"Now," the man said with a deep snarl, "I stop playing."

He launched forward without warning.

Liam barely had time to react before the chains came flying at him like whips. He ducked one, twisted his body sideways to avoid another, and backflipped to escape the third—but the fourth chain caught his leg mid-air, wrapped tight, and slammed him to the ground with bone-jarring force.

"Agh!" Liam grunted as his ribs took the brunt of the impact.

The uncle didn’t wait. He came crashing down, aiming a boot straight at Liam’s chest. Liam rolled away just in time and swung his leg around to trip him, but the man jumped over and retaliated by slamming a chain downward like a hammer.

Liam dashed forward, fists up, trying to close the distance. He knew staying at range was suicide against a chain-wielder.

He ducked under one chain, parried another with his forearm, and closed in. He struck.

Left hook.

Right elbow.

Knee to the stomach.

The blows landed hard, but the uncle didn’t even grunt. He tanked them like a wall of muscle and slammed his forehead into Liam’s face.

Blood splattered from Liam’s nose as he stumbled backward.

"Shit..."

Another chain whipped forward and wrapped around Liam’s wrist. Before he could tear it off, another wrapped around his ankle.

Then the chains pulled in opposite directions.

Liam screamed as his body stretched unnaturally. He could feel the strain on his joints, the burn in his muscles. He clenched his teeth and forced energy through his body—activating his enhanced strength.

With a roar, he tore free from the chains and somersaulted into the air. His eyes burned with fury now.

"Dragon Step!"

In a blur of black, Liam vanished and reappeared behind the uncle with a burst of speed that cracked the air. He unleashed a fury of strikes—rapid punches, vicious kicks, hammer-like blows to the man’s ribs and spine.

The uncle grunted, finally showing signs of pain, but his body refused to fall.

Liam twisted midair and drove a kick to the back of the man’s head.

The uncle stumbled forward—but only for a moment. Then he spun violently, his chains forming a tornado around him. One chain struck Liam across the chest, lifting him off the ground and sending him flying into a steel barrel.

Liam coughed up blood. His body ached all over. His healing was working overtime, but even that wasn’t fast enough now.

"You’re strong," the uncle growled, approaching slowly, "But you’re young. You’re not built for war."

He leapt again—one last push. Fists blazing, he attacked with everything he had. The chains clashed with his fists midair in bursts of sparks and shouts. The entire factory echoed with the sound of their blows.

Liam landed a brutal punch to the man’s jaw.

The uncle retaliated with a spinning backhand that caught Liam clean on the cheek and dropped him like a sack of bricks.

Liam rolled to his knees, struggling to breathe.

The uncle walked up, calm now. No chains. Just fists.

He lifted Liam by the collar with one hand and slammed him into the nearest pillar. Then again. And again.

Wood cracked. Concrete chipped. Blood smeared.

Liam gasped, barely conscious, his body hanging limply from the man’s grip.

"You should have stayed away," the uncle whispered.

Then he tossed Liam across the room like trash.

Liam hit the floor and didn’t move.

He groaned once and tried to rise.

His arms shook. His legs trembled.

But he couldn’t stand.

He collapsed back down.

The uncle walked forward slowly, a thick, rusted blade now in his hand. He dragged it along the floor behind him, the sound sharp and final.

Liam opened one eye. He saw the man’s boots coming closer. He felt the blade’s aura—cold, heavy, filled with death.

Jack stood behind his uncle, trembling, watching the scene like a scared child.

The uncle raised the sword.

Liam lay still, blinking blood out of his eyes, unable to move.

The blade came up.

The uncle held it high above his head.

"Goodbye," he said calmly.

And then—he swung.