Walking back into his room, Liam collapsed onto his bed, letting out a slow exhale.
With the ever-present weight of public attention, he could feel the world outside tightening its focus on him like a magnifying glass under sunlight.
Still, he wasn't one to dwell on things he couldn't change. Not that he minded the second part in the first place.
He picked up his phone and turned his attention to the message from Kristopher. He smiled faintly and typed a short reply.
"Not really. What's up?"
The reply came almost instantly.
Kristopher: "We're thinking of visiting. You home?"
Liam smiled to himself when he saw this. He figured that they would probably be curious about yesterday but he didn't expect them to want to visit immediately, especially with how busy they all are. Well, he didn't mind them visiting.
"Yeah, sure. Come over," he replied.
He barely had time to set his phone down before the next message popped up.
"Perfect. We're already on our way."
Liam chuckled softly. He leaned back on the bed, hands behind his head. He could already imagine the questions waiting for him. He didn't mind. If anything, he was amused.
They were probably dying to see the cars, maybe even the jet if they could. But that last part wouldn't be possible. Something else was already moving toward that end — something Liam had been expecting since the moment the aircraft first left the ground.
The U.S. government.
Even now, somewhere in the invisible web of satellite feeds and intelligence gathering and briefings, his name was being tossed across tables. Lucy had continued to intercept several encrypted data channels — Homeland, FAA, Treasury, even CIA chatter. They were coordinating, analyzing, and preparing to move.
Liam wasn't worried. If anything, he almost looked forward to it. He knew the worst they can do, was to ground the aircraft for a maximum duration of 48 hours. They will use that time to inspect the aircraft but they won't find anything beyond the fact that it's a luxury aircraft. But they can't do anything beyond that.
During his familiarisation tour of the aircraft, Liam came to realise that features like the satellite feeds, satcom channels and the countermeasures are actually hidden. Besides him — and now Lucy — no else can activate them or have any idea the aircraft has them.
Liam smiled to himself, as his thoughts drifted back to his friends' visit. For a brief moment, he considered giving them each a Lucid device as a surprise. He imagined their reactions — disbelief, awe, and endless excitement.
But he dismissed the idea almost immediately, as Lucid wasn't ready for uncontrolled exposure. Every move right now had to be precise.
The launch was designed to unfold in waves: first, the tech reviewers — the loudest and most trusted voices in the digital world. Then, two weeks later, the gaming streamers, whose millions of fans would amplify the product overnight. That sequence would ignite a viral chain reaction. By the time the general public could get their hands on Lucid, demand would already exceed production.
Giving out even one unit early could ruin that carefully built plan.
Besides, he didn't want Lucid's success tied to his name. The world already saw him as an anomaly — a billionaire teen wrapped in mystery. If the headlines shifted to "Liam Scott's Revolutionary Product," it would distort the story. People would buy for the hype, not the innovation.
No. Lucid had to rise on its own merit — not on the back of his identity.
He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. The world thought his wealth was the shocking part. But to him, money was just a number. The true thrill came from creation — from watching something impossible become real.
"All this noise because of a plane," he muttered and sighed softly.
It was true. If he'd flown a Gulfstream or even a Boeing 777, the world wouldn't have cared this much. But the A380… that was something else entirely. The largest passenger aircraft in the world, once thought impossible to own privately. That alone had made him headline material.
He chuckled quietly, remembering how he got it as one of the rewards from his third weekly sign-in.
He had noticed that the sign-in rewards was kicked up a notch after his first weekly sign-in. He wondered if it will be the same as in the cultivation world.
Liam shook his head lightly and decided not to think about it anymore. He stretched his arms, deciding it was time to move. He had guests coming over.
He stood, straightened his shirt, and walked downstairs. It has been a while since he cooked for himself and since they are visiting, he decided to treat them like the last time.
As he entered the kitchen, Evelyn turned from the counter, surprise flickering across her face.
"Sir?" she asked, as though unsure she was seeing correctly.
Liam smiled. "Don't mind me. I just want to make something for my friends."
Clara and Mira, who had been setting the breakfast dishes aside, froze. Mira's eyes widened slightly. "Sir… you're cooking?"
What she actually wanted to ask was if he can cook, but she quickly changed her question.
"Yes. It's been a while," he said simply, rolling up his sleeves.
The three women exchanged glances — a silent mixture of shock, curiosity, and mild panic.
Clara took a hesitant step forward. "Sir, please, allow us. You shouldn't trouble yourself—"
Evelyn stopped her with a subtle gesture. "Let him," she said softly. "If he wants to, let him."
Liam smiled faintly when he caught the exchange. "Relax. I'm not planning on burning the kitchen down."
He opened the refrigerator, scanned the contents, and began pulling out ingredients: eggs, onions, fresh vegetables, marinated chicken.
Within minutes, he moved with the ease of someone who had done this many times before. The knife rhythmically struck the cutting board, the sound blending with the faint hum of the stove's ventilation.
The girls hovered near the counter, watching him work. The calmness and the precision in his movements surprised them — every cut, every motion was deliberate.
"Evelyn," he said without turning, "pass me the rosemary."
She did so wordlessly, still studying him.
"Thank you."
Time flowed quietly, measured by the sizzle of oil and the fragrance of garlic and herbs filling the air. Liam worked efficiently, occasionally humming a song to himself.
Through his telekinetic sense, he felt the faint vibration of engines as two cars, speeding in tandem, turning off the main road toward Bellemere's gate.
He wiped his hands on a towel just as Mason appeared in the doorway.
"Sir," Mason reported, "there are a few people at the gate. They said they're your friends."
Liam nodded. "Let them in."
Mason inclined his head. "Yes, sir."
A few seconds later, the low sound of engines reached the house.
Liam smiled slightly and turned to the girls. "Watch this for me, will you? Don't let it burn."
Clara nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
Leaving the kitchen, Liam walked through the hall toward the foyer. The polished floors reflected the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The heavy double doors opened just as he reached them.
Matt stepped in first, grinning from ear to ear. Behind him were Kristopher, Harper, Alex and the girls.
"Bro," Matt laughed, throwing his hands out, "do you have any idea what you've done to the internet?"
Liam raised an eyebrow, amused. "Good to see you too."
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