Chapter 70 (The Mortal Multiverse : Liam Raven Harper)

Chapter 70 - Saturday

Liam Pov

The elevator ride felt longer than usual. Maybe it was just the exhaustion settling in—or maybe it was just my imagination.

[It’s your Imagination, Liam! Your stats are too high to be affected by your days work] Eve commented and she is right 

When the doors slid open, I dragged myself down the hall, keys jingling lazily in my hand.

The moment I pushed the apartment door open, a faint aroma of spices and lemon hit me. 

My eyes landed on Emma, standing by the counter in one of my oversized shirts, sleeves rolled up as she worked on something in a bowl.

“Hey,” I greeted, kicking the door shut behind me. “What’s cooking?”

She looked up briefly, giving me one of those casual smiles. “Hi. Just making some chicken for dinner.”

“Nice,” I nodded, tossing my bag onto the couch before collapsing into it myself. “How’s the new game projects going? Both of them are still on track?”

Emma sighed, brushing a strand of platinum hair behind her ear. “The pc one’s fine, but the mobile game has been giving us few headaches. Optimization issues.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I said absently, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. “You always do.”

She chuckled under her breath. “Flattery doesn’t count as motivation, you know.”

“I wasn’t flattering. Just stating a fact,” I replied with a grin.

She just smiled, shaking her head as she went back to making dinner. For a while, the room was filled with the low hum of conversation—random things about our day, a few jokes, and the sizzling sound of her cooking dinner. It felt…normal. Peaceful.

We finished dinner and it was delicious. Afterwards, she retreated to her room, leaving me alone on the couch with the flickering glow of the television.

The News was on and Bruce Wayne was today's highlight. Seems like the Heir to the Wayne Empire who was away from public eyes for a long time has been spotted 

[You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a supergenius, Bruce Wayne really needs better PR.]

“No kidding,’’ I thought, watching the news anchor ramble. “Two years of radio silence and suddenly he’s “spotted” on a beach in Bali playing beach volleyball with girls? Yeah, right.’’

[Definitely fake. Look at that photo—it’s blurry enough to be Bigfoot.]

‘’Maybe Bruce is Bigfoot,’’ I mused, smirking.

[Plot twist of the century.]

The headline shifted again, showing clips of old Wayne Foundation charity galas. Eve’s tone softened slightly.

[What do you actually think of them? The Waynes, I mean.]

‘’Thomas and Martha?’’ I leaned back, eyes half-closed. ‘’Good people. Genuinely wanted to make Gotham better. Bruce, though… he’s different. A mystery wrapped in too many layers.’’

[You do like mysterious types.]

‘’Comes with the job.’’

Before she could reply, a small notification pinged in the corner of my HUD. System Mail: New message from Natasha Romanoff.

I straightened up a bit. The file unpacked itself in a neat digital overlay—evidence, witness logs, full intel, everything I predicted was right and now I had solid proof.

‘’Well, look at that,’’ I thought. ‘’She actually pulled it off.’’

[Of course she did. It’s Natasha. Her work oozes competence.]

‘’Yeah,’’ I agreed with a small grin, typing a quick reply through the system. Good work. Stay in touch.

The message sent, and I let out a slow breath. Another case in the bag.

[You’re smiling.]

‘’I am not.’’

[You totally are.]

‘’Go to sleep, Eve.’’

[Only if you do.]

‘’Fine.’’

I turned off the TV, the screen fading to black as the city lights glowed through the window. 

Tossing the remote aside, I stood and stretched before heading toward my room.

Another day done. Another quiet night—at least for now.

And somewhere in the background, the world kept turning… one day at a time.

Saturday. 

I woke up early and blinked the sleep away as Eve’s voice filled my head, bright and annoyingly cheerful as usual.

[Morning, sunshine. You’re up early. Plot twist—did you actually get enough sleep for once?]

‘’Barely,’’ I replied, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. ‘’But it’s fight day, so I don’t need sleep. Just attitude.’’

[You mean ego.]

‘’Confidence,’’ I corrected, grinning.

After the usual morning back-and-forth with Eve, I got out of bed and went through my routine as usual. 

Then came the gym fit: a black compression t-shirt that loosely hugged my frame just right and grey athletic shorts. 

I slipped on my running shoes, tossed a towel and water bottle into my gym bag, and headed out.

The elevator hummed softly as it carried me down to the basement. I unlocked my bike, the matte black body gleaming under the fluorescent lights, and rode out into the quiet streets toward Roque’s 265 Gym.

The training was brutal—at least for most people. Roque always pushed hard, but my body barely broke a sweat. Enhanced stats had their perks. 

Punches, grapples, takedowns—it was all being integrated as muscle memory after each session. 

By the time we wrapped up, Roque gave me a nod and a solid fist bump.

“Good work, Liam.”

“Always,” I said, grabbing my bag.

Back at the apartment, the scent of coffee greeted me. Emma was already up, dressed comfortably, scrolling through her tablet.

“Morning,” she said, glancing up with a small smile.

“Morning,” I replied. “Are you cooking again?”

“Later. Right now, I was thinking we should hit the grocery store. The fridge looks sad and it needs to be stocked for tomorrow's dinner.”

“Fine by me,” I said, tossing my gym bag aside. “Breakfast first?”

“Deal.”

After a quick shower, I dressed down—black jeans, white t-shirt layered under a casual olive-green overshirt, and my usual watch. Simple, clean, and sharp. 

Emma approved with a smirk that said it all. “You always clean up well,” she teased as we headed down to the parking lot.

“When have I not!” I shot back.

We took her white SUV, with me behind the wheel this time. The morning drive was smooth—city half-awake, sunlight bouncing off glass towers. 

Breakfast at a nearby café didn’t take long, and soon we were walking through the grocery store aisles.

That’s when I saw him. Mike Ross. Standing dead still in the chips section, staring like the meaning of life was printed on a bag of Doritos.

‘’No way,’’ I thought. ‘’Off all the places I could have met him, It had to be a grocery store.’’

[Funny, right? The guy you said could outthink half a law firm struggling to decide on chips.]

‘’Yeah. Looks like he’s stoned,’’ I replied, noticing the faint smell of weed as I walked closer.

Emma looked at her list. “I’ll grab some stuff from the back. Are you good here?”

“Yeah, I’ll check out the snacks,” I said casually.

Once she rolled away with the cart, I stepped up beside Mike. He didn’t notice me—too busy zoning out. I plucked the same bag of chips from the shelf, and his eyes tracked the movement like a lost puppy. When his gaze finally landed on me, I saw it—bloodshot, unfocused, definitely high.

“You good there, man?” I asked, giving him a sharp look. “You look like you just discovered time travel.”

He blinked fast, startled. “Uh—I’m fine, yeah, totally fine.”

He stepped back too quickly, nearly tripping, and I caught his wrist before he could hit the ground. His pulse was racing.

“Are you sure?” I asked, a smirk tugging at my lips.

Mike froze for a second before nodding rapidly. “Yeah, thanks, man,” he said, steadying himself. 

Then he bolted—straight out of the aisle and toward the exit.

I watched him go, amused. ‘’Well, that went great.’’

[You’re not gonna stop him? This was your shot to recruit pre-Harvey Mike Ross, the law wizard himself.]

‘’Nah,’’ I replied, tossing the chips back into its rack. ‘’He’s too fried to remember his own name right now. There’ll be other chances.’’

[You just want to see how the drama unfolds, don’t you?]

‘’Guilty,’’ I thought with a grin. ‘’Besides, what’s life without a little entertainment?’’

Emma waved from the next aisle, spotting me. “Didnt buy anything?”

“Yeah,” I said and walked to her. “Let’s check out.”

As we walked toward the counter, I couldn’t help glancing back at the door where Mike had disappeared. 

The world was getting smaller—or maybe just more interesting.

Either way, I liked it that way.

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