The vehicles rolled smoothly into the expansive parking zone adjacent to the lounge, their engines humming to a halt under the neon glow. Tonight, the atmosphere surrounding the venue was markedly different; a massive, pulsating crowd filled the interior, leaving the floor vibrant and alive. This stood in stark contrast to their previous excursion, which had felt somewhat stagnant and hollow because their group had occupied the space in absolute isolation. Anticipating their arrival, Tim had secured a premier, isolated booth along the velvet mezzanine, guiding his companions straight through the bustling sea of patrons. A polished server materialized almost instantly, presenting the beverage selection, and within minutes, the table was alive with shared laughter and clinking glasses. The oppressive weight of the midterm examination schedule had officially dissolved into history, leaving their minds entirely liberated from anxiety.
Suddenly, the heavy front doors swung open, and three unfamiliar figures crossed the threshold into the dim light. The moment Tim's sharp vision registered their silhouettes, the casual warmth instantly vanished from his eyes. He stood up from his leather chair in one fluid, imposing movement.
Tim's voice was low, slicing through the ambient music like an iron blade. "No matter what unpredictable friction unfolds across this floor, not a single one of you is to interfere in this interaction. Especially you, Willy. Maintain your position."
What on earth is transpiring right now? Willy thought, his heart instantly hammering against his ribs as his mind raced to decode the anomaly. Does Tim possess a historical connection with these individuals? Why is he aggressively barring me from stepping forward to shield him?
Without waiting for a response, Tim stepped out of the velvet booth, his towering frame cutting a direct path through the crowd toward the newcomers.
Tim's lips curled into a dangerously sharp, mocking smile. "Well, well. Do you genuinely possess the raw audacity to show your face within my coordinates after all these passing years, Connor?"
Connor offered zero verbal reply. Instead, his jaw clenched, and his arm lashed out with sudden, violent velocity, landing a heavy punch squarely against Tim's face.
The violent impact caused Willy and the rest of the circle to violently bolt upright from their seats, their protective instincts flaring. However, before a single friend could breach the perimeter, Tim raised a solitary, unyielding hand, executing a sharp gesture that ordered them to anchor their positions.
Tim wiped a small bead of crimson from his lip, his expression completely undisturbed as he tilted his neck. "Fascinating. Is this violent display the current configuration for a civilized greeting within your circle?"
Connor's features twisted with a venomous, unadulterated fury. "You absolute, wretched bastard! How dare you anchor your presence in this city and indulge in mindless luxury?! I explicitly commanded your soul to evacuate these territories permanently. No force on this earth possesses the power to salvage your existence tonight."
Tim let out a rich, echoing laugh, the pure amusement in his voice thoroughly baffling the aggressive figures before him.
Tim smirked, taking a slow step forward. "Do you honestly calculate that my heart harbors a single shred of fear toward your pathetic threats, Connor? Time has executed absolutely zero upgrades on your intellect; you remain just as profoundly stupid as you were during our childhood chapters. Though, I suppose there exists a solitary positive variable to occupying a low cognitive tier. It is the precise reason your lungs are still drawing oxygen today. Smart individuals routinely meet an early grave, Connor... Theo, Vincent, and Damian stand as monumental proofs of that exact theorem."
Blinded by absolute rage, Connor lashed out a second time, his fist colliding heavily with Tim's jaw.
Connor roared, his chest heaving. "Aren't you plagued by a profound sense of shame for allowing their names to cross your lips?! You are the entity who should have inherited the grave instead of them!"
Tim's laughter only intensified, sounding chillingly detached in the crowded room.
Tim tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto his adversary. "You are far from the first individual to deliver that specific sentiment to my face, Connor. But it is hardly an error of my own design that my intellect operates on a superior frequency while your mind remains trapped in absolute stupidity."
Unable to tolerate the mockery a second longer, Connor's hand plunged into his leather coat, extracting a sleek, heavy firearm. With a trembling hand, he leveled the barrel directly at the center of Tim's forehead.
The terrifying sight broke Willy's restraint. He surged forward, desperate to throw his body between his husband and the weapon, but Logan and Seb instantly grabbed his arms, anchoring him in place to prevent a catastrophic escalation.
Despite the lethal instrument staring him down, Tim completely failed to suppress his amusement. He threw his head back, his rich laughter ringing out above the hushed whispers of the surrounding patrons, who were watching the unfolding drama in absolute horror.
Tim gasped for air, his smirk entirely unbothered. "Just give me a solitary minute to collect myself... I am straining every muscle to suppress this laughter, but the comedy is simply too immense. How can a human being legitimately operate with this level of cognitive deficiency? Hahahaha!"
Connor's grip on the weapon tightened, his knuckles turning white. "What exactly do you find so amusing, you psycho?!"
Tim's eyes turned dead and piercingly sharp. "If your ultimate goal is to permanently terminate my timeline, you must aim the trajectory precisely between my eyes or directly through the center of my heart. But ensure your aim holds zero error, Connor... because the universe will grant your hands absolutely zero access to a secondary opportunity."
A wave of panicked murmuring rippled through the surrounding tables. Is this man completely insane? patrons whispered. He is actively inviting his own demise.
Willy's voice fractured with sheer terror as he shouted from the booth. "Tim! What on earth are you uttering?! You cannot possibly be blind to the lethal weapon pointed directly at your face! Cease your attempts to provoke his fury!"
Connor's eyes darted toward the velvet booth, a wicked, triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Oh, look at that. Your precious little companions are weeping for your survival. Tell me, do these innocent boys hold the knowledge that they are breaking bread with a cold-blooded murderer?!"
A murderer? The explosive word detonated through the lounge, causing a wildfire of hushed, terrified whispers to sweep across the crowded room. Patrons began backing away from the scene, their eyes locked onto Tim.
Tim simply tapped his chin, looking entirely bored. "Let me review my internal archive files for a moment... No. That title fails to align with reality."
Connor sneered. "Then it appears I am obligated to unveil the entirety of your blood-soaked history to every soul in this room."
Tim gestured elegantly with his hand, extending an open invitation. "By all means. Initiate the narrative from the absolute beginning of the chronicle."
Connor took an aggressive step toward the velvet booth, but Tim instantly shifted his heavy frame, blocking the path like an impenetrable stone wall.
Connor growled, locking his gaze onto the surrounding audience. "Fine! I shall unveil the unvarnished truth from this exact position... This monster sitting before you systematically extinguished the lifelines of his own biological brother, his uncle, and his cousin. God only knows how many innocent souls he has slaughtered in the dark chapters that followed."
Tim's expression remained terrifyingly placid, though a dangerous, venomous edge crept into his tone. "I shall offer zero commentary regarding the demise of my brother and cousin... but your biological father most certainly earned his termination, Connor. Do you hold the knowledge of what his absolute final utterances were before his timeline closed? He stared at my face and whispered, 'You? It's completely impossible.' You should have witnessed the sheer, unadulterated terror and shock that paralyzed his features in that final microsecond. The memory is an absolute masterpiece; my mind will treasure it for eternity."
Connor screamed, his sanity snapping. "Shut your wretched mouth!" He jammed the cold steel of the barrel directly against Tim's forehead.
Tim didn't flinch an inch. "Why do your ears refuse to tolerate the history lessons, Connor? This exposure is the exact objective that prompted your arrival tonight. Oh, I completely omitted a crucial detail. Inform your companion in the rear that there exists absolutely zero utility in utilizing his device to record this interaction. Your group possesses zero capability to leverage that footage to secure my arrest, and the high-ranking judicial magistrates will refuse to accept it as valid evidence in a court of law."
Tim paused, a bright, mocking smile lighting up his face as he looked around the room. "How profoundly forgetful my system is today. I completely neglected to introduce you to my own personal associates. Please, extend your formal greetings to them."
The moment the words left his lips, the illusion of the ordinary crowd shattered. At least twenty-five patrons who had been casually sitting at the surrounding tables stood up in perfect unison. With synchronized, military precision, they reached beneath their coats and extracted heavy firearms, aiming the barrels directly at Connor and his two companions.
The sudden reconfiguration of power left Connor and his associates paralyzed with sheer, unadulterated terror.
Tim chuckled darkly, stepping into Connor's personal space. "You truly are an exceptional fool, Connor. Did your low intellect genuinely calculate that you could simply march into the heart of my establishment, level a weapon at my face, and expect my security forces to remain idle? I have held full knowledge that your eyes were tracking my movements through every single cycle. I possessed absolute certainty that your group would attempt a breach here today, and my office holds complete intelligence regarding your entire strategic blueprint. You wield a genuine firearm in your hand, yet your clumsy fingers lack the basic training required to execute a precise trajectory. Hahaha! I shall award your character ten points for raw bravery for possessing the audacity to confront me. However, I am docking a thousand points for your pathetic execution. What a tragedy; your grand design has encountered an absolute collapse. I am formally notifying your office that you have failed the evaluation metric. Go back to the shadows and attempt a reconfiguration later. If your ultimate desire is to eliminate my existence, don't operate like such a textbook amateur. If your heart wishes, I can happily share a few professional tips to upgrade your lethality."
Connor's breathing turned shallow, his gaze darting frantically toward the army of armed security guards surrounding him. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his footing. "Have you finalized your arrogant speech, Tim? Do you honestly believe my intellect structured this deployment entirely in isolation?"
Tim casually glanced down at his wrist, completely ignoring the weapon still hovering near his face. "What exact hour has the clock reached?"
One of Tim's senior security operatives stepped forward, his eyes locked on the target. "The clock currently registers exactly half past eight, sir."
A look of pure, triumphant satisfaction washed over Tim's features. "Magnificent. It appears fresh guests will be joining our little celebration in precisely five minutes. Am I mapping the variables correctly, Connor?"
Connor went entirely pale, his lips parting but failing to project a single syllable of defense.
Tim smiled darkly, crossing his arms. "Do you hold the knowledge of what is destined to transpire in exactly three hundred seconds? I am currently extending two distinct choices to your office: the first you permanently dissolve your operations and never cross into my path again for the remainder of your existence; the second I personally orchestrate your transit into a high-security prison facility. Resolve which pathway your character prefers to inhabit."
Connor's voice shook, his bravado entirely crushed. "The first option... because the incoming forces are mobilizing to secure your arrest tonight, not mine."
Tim let out another booming laugh that filled the tense silence of the room.
Tim shook his head. "Your cognitive deficiency is truly boundless, Connor. Those enforcement agencies possess absolutely zero capability to execute an arrest against my person because they hold zero physical evidence on their ledger. Your group, conversely, will be captured with exceptional ease. Allow your vision to track the high-end security lenses mounted across the ceiling rafters and wave your hand at the cameras that have systematically recorded every single microsecond of this interaction. This establishment is a highly recognized public venue, it is my private property, and those lenses are legally installed under strict safety protocols. Let me simplify the legal equations for your low intellect: I possess full authorization to file immediate charges against your office for aggravated assault and lethal endangerment because you openly threatened my timeline with a weapon and subjected my face to physical battery. I command flawless, unassailable proof on my ledger, provided entirely by your own clumsy actions and, of course, my internal recording equipment."
Connor hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You little piece of sh"
Tim cut him off instantly, his voice sharp as steel. "Are your thoughts currently wondering if my own security forces will be ensnared by the law? The answer is an absolute no, because under the legal code, my bodyguards simply executed standard protective maneuvers to shield my life from an armed intruder. Does your office still adhere to the same choice, or has your strategy undergone a sudden reconfiguration?"
With an air of absolute, casual dominance, Tim slid onto a vacant barstool, happily locked onto the ticking hands of the grand wall clock.
Tim smirked, counting down with his fingers. "Time is evaporating rapidly, Connor. Tick-tock." He pointed directly to the clock face, awaiting the final decision.
Connor's jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a desperate, dying hatred. "I am refusing to alter my strategy, Tim. The law will ultimately ensnare your neck tonight."
Tim kept his vision locked onto the sweeping second hand. "Three... two... one..."
Right on the final count, the heavy front doors were violently breached, and a squad of uniformed police officers surged into the lounge, their badges catching the dim light.
Tim smiled smoothly, rising from the stool. "Arrived precisely on schedule..." He stepped forward with absolute confidence to greet the incoming squad.