Dopamine Addiction - Chapter 33

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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33.
Then came the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Liam rose from his seat, closed the window, and turned his gaze toward the front door.
Hee-ju stepped inside, hunching her shoulders against the cold.
‘I just opened it for a bit of fresh air.’
‘It’s fine.’
Liam went to fetch a blanket and draped it over Hee-ju’s shoulders. Then he moved to the kitchen and returned with a warm cup of tea, which he handed to her.
Noel watched the scene unfold, eyes wide. The sheer hypocrisy of Liam—lecturing him about endurance while showing such tenderness to her—was beyond belief.
‘Thank you.’
Oblivious to any undercurrent, Hee-ju accepted the mug with an easy, contented smile.
“Argh!”
Unable to contain his indignation, Noel flipped the table. Hee-ju’s eyes went wide with alarm, her face a mask of surprise.
“Noel?”
“I was winning that game! It’s Liam’s fault! All Liam’s fault!”
Noel hugged his knees and burst into tears. Hee-ju looked to Liam in confusion, as if asking what on earth was happening.
Liam gave a light shrug and murmured in a flat tone.
“Seems he’s upset because he’s never managed a single win.”
“I should have let him win. I didn’t realize I was being so tactless, winning every hand.”
“That’s not it at all!”
Noel cried out as though spitting fire. He really had been winning that last game. If only Liam hadn’t been there.
“It’s match-fixing! Two against one isn’t fair!”
“He seems quite devastated.”
“I wish I had no talent for cards.”
As Hee-ju muttered this gravely, Noel started to shout—”That’s exactly why it’s not talent, it’s—I’m the one with real talent—!” before stopping abruptly.
Liam had brought a finger to his lips in a gesture for silence.
A sudden tension settled over the three of them. Hee-ju turned to Noel and spoke in a low voice.
“The security system is off, right?”
Noel wiped his tears away with a quick motion and nodded.
“Yes.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Noel pulled an awl from beneath the table, gripping it firmly with a suddenly solemn expression. Hee-ju rummaged under her side of the table, gathering duct tape and cable ties with practiced efficiency.
Just then, the sound of an illegally modified car rumbled past and came to a stop directly in front of the shop. Liam peered out the window and clicked his tongue softly.
“There’s a CCTV at the jewelry store across the street, and these idiots just expose their vehicle like that. This is why I can’t stand kids.”
“Liam, you’re the one teaching us what perfectionism looks like.”
Liam pulled on leather gloves, humming quietly to himself. Hee-ju’s brow furrowed.
“Where did you even get those?”
“There was a pair at the pawn shop.”
Noel adjusted his slipping glasses and spoke up.
“The most expensive gloves ever sold at auction were Abraham Lincoln’s. He had them in his pocket when he was assassinated, so they’re stained with blood. They sold for $1.52 million.
But the ones Liam’s wearing are just a fifty-dollar pair. Some alcoholic pawned them to buy a bottle.”
Liam muttered, “Wish I hadn’t known that,” and made a fist, then opened his hand. The leather, conditioned by years in human hands, was soft rather than stiff.
“Seven of them… no, wait. Seven, counting the ones on the motorcycles.”
“What’s the gender split?”
“Two women, five men.”
“Then I’ll handle the women.”
Liam’s expression shifted to surprise. Catching the implication behind his look, Hee-ju shot back.
“What? Are you worried I’ll lose to a high school girl?”
“Physically, they seem about your level or possibly stronger.”
“That’s exactly why I should be the one. I can’t ask you to hit women. This is where I need to step up.”
“You who threw your first punch just the day before yesterday?”
Hee-ju pulled something out from under the sofa. A baseball bat.
“I found this when I was going through the pawn shop.”
“The most expensive baseball bat ever sold was the one used by Babe Ruth, the home run king, from 1920 to 1921. It’s confirmed to have been used at Polo Grounds, and it sold in a private transaction between individuals for $1.85 million.
The bat she’s holding was pawned by a neighborhood kid. He said he needed money for a game console. Probably worth about twenty dollars.”
“So mine’s more valuable.”
Liam gazed at his gloves with satisfaction. Just as Hee-ju was about to pout at apparently losing the exchange, a tremendous bang echoed through the air. The building shook.
Hee-ju walked straight to the window. She could see men smashing through the door with steel pipes.
Passersby startled and quickly retreated the way they’d come, and the person in the adjacent room drew their curtains shut.
So this was what people meant about San Francisco’s cold-heartedness.
“They’ve got steel pipes, but you’re going with just gloves? Why don’t you borrow this?”
Hee-ju held out the baseball bat to Liam. He made a fist again, then opened it and spoke.
“If I had to fight a high school student at full strength, I’d be the embarrassed one.”
His casual tone carried the absolute confidence of someone who never doubted victory.
Hee-ju turned to Noel.
“You go around back.”
“Okay.”
Noel left the living room first, and Liam and Hee-ju descended the stairs in turn. Only after hearing the back door open and close quietly did the two of them slip into the shop.
Bang!
The door burst inward just as they entered, and the boys came pouring through. Liam crouched low and slipped outside the glass partition.
“I would’ve opened the door if you’d knocked politely. Kids these days have no manners.”
“Who the hell are you?”
A young man who looked to be eighteen or nineteen stepped forward to face Liam.
He was perhaps five centimeters shorter than Liam but considerably heavier. His shoulders were broad like a rugby player’s, his chest thick and powerful.
Flanking him on either side stood a deeply tanned man, a sleeveless-shirt man, a man with a lip piercing, and a lanky man, all arrayed like wings.
Masha, who’d been entering the shop, spotted Hee-ju beyond the glass partition and her eyes went wide.
“That woman! Get her!”
As though that were a firing order, the sleeveless man rushed at Liam. Simultaneously, he threw a punch with impressive force.
Thwack. The impact sounded wrong.
Thud-crash. The sleeveless man went down like a felled log.
.
In the sudden confusion, the men stared at their fallen friend in bewilderment, blinking repeatedly without understanding.
The sleeveless man had thrown the punch. It should have been Liam who fell. So why was the sleeveless man sprawled on the ground?
But their confusion lasted only a moment. This time the pierced man and the lanky one rushed from both sides at once. The pierced man drove low into Liam’s midsection, while the tall one used his long reach to throw a punch from a distance.
Liam grabbed the pierced man’s elbow as he charged like a buffalo and yanked it toward himself. As the pierced man lost his balance and stumbled, Liam seized the back of his neck and slammed him hard against the wall.
“Ahhh!”
The pierced man screamed, clutching his nose. Blood streamed from it—his nose had shattered.
From that position, Liam dodged the incoming punch from the lanky man and threw the pierced man at him. Both collapsed in a heap.
“Ugh…”
The two men curled up, groaning in pain. Liam gestured casually to the rugby player.
“I’ve got an evening appointment, so let’s not waste time. All of you come at once.”
The rugby player’s face flushed red, then purple. He took a step forward, and his stance was markedly different from the others—he looked like someone who actually knew how to throw a punch.
But Liam stood at ease, arms hanging loose, regarding him with lazy confidence. It was clearly an affront to the rugby player’s pride.
He let out a war cry—”Hyahhh!”—and swung a heavy punch.
“Way too textbook.”
Liam clicked his tongue softly and slipped his upper body back. Then he stepped forward with his right foot, closing the distance in a single fluid motion.
He struck the rugby player’s solar plexus with his elbow.
“Gasp!”
The rugby player gasped as though his wind had been knocked out of him, backpedaling one step, then two, clutching his stomach. His eyes widened in shock.
Liam immediately grabbed the rugby player’s arm and bent it sharply in the opposite direction.
“This is why I hate athletes who only train their bodies. You don’t use your head, your head.”
“Ahhhhh!”
The rugby player’s scream tore through the air. Liam’s voice turned indifferent.
“Screaming like that over this? And your girlfriend’s watching too. Aren’t you ashamed?”
The rugby player’s face burned with humiliation. He struggled to his feet and barked at his friends, “Kill him.”
“Anytime.”
Liam gave a dismissive nod.
“Shut your mouth, you bastard!”
“First, you need to learn some respect for your elders.”
The tanned man from the back rushed forward swinging his steel pipe. Clang, clang—the pipe whisked through empty air repeatedly, each time striking the wall instead of Liam.
Liam let out a deliberate sigh.
“Look at this idiot swinging a steel pipe in a cramped space.”
“What the hell are you saying!”
The tanned man gritted his teeth and swung the pipe again. It carved through the air and slammed into the innocent wall once more.
As a numbing vibration ran through the tanned man’s hands and he winced, Liam pivoted and drove a kick into his thigh.
The tanned man’s leg buckled and he crashed to the ground. Liam spun on his heel and brought it down hard against the tanned man’s temple. Crack.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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