《From Bullets To Billions》


 Chapter 1 - 1: Im Dying

    My brother Kyle Darn died, and I guess that''s how everything started. Maximus''s thoughts echoed painfully through his mind as a sharp, burning sensation shot down his leg. His body grew colder by the second, and darkness engulfed his vision completely. The only sound that reached his ears was a slow, dragging noise scraping across the ground.


    Correction: Maximus knew exactly what that sound was. It was his own body being dragged across the floor, tightly sealed in a heavy, suffocating black bag, arms and legs tied securely. Even if he had the strength to move, he was utterly helpless. His silly talent, expertly using chopsticks at dinner, was now officially over. Not that it was ever impressive. After all, billions of people did it daily, yet somehow it always managed to surprise someone.


    In these fleeting moments, his entire life flashed vividly through his mind, memories streaming in relentlessly.


    Bad luck had followed me since Kyle died. My father passed away on the exact same day, racing desperately to the hospital, only to lose his life in a tragic car accident. Mom couldn''t endure the unbearable pain of losing two people she loved deeply, leaving behind the only one who was still breathing, me. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Yet, despite these crushing losses, Maximus refused to let his troubled past dictate his future. If anything, it was precisely these losses that had shaped him into the person he became. From that day onward, he''d decided the world would no longer simply take from him, he would take whatever he wanted in return, no matter the method. Theft, deception, violence, blackmail, his moral compass disappeared quickly, replaced by fierce determination. Soon, others who felt similarly abandoned or angry flocked to him, ultimately creating the notorious White Tiger Gang.


    What an embarrassing name, now that I think about it. The memory made him cringe inwardly. They called me the White Tiger just because I liked wearing white clothes, or maybe it was because of my part-Asian heritage. Either way, I foolishly went along with it.


    If he could move, Maximus would''ve slapped himself right then. Usually, embarrassing memories haunted people about high school or awkward teenage years, but he had plenty that followed him into adulthood.


    Even today, he''d put on his lucky red underwear, yet clearly, luck wasn''t on his side. Pain intensified with every passing moment, a grim reminder of multiple stab wounds covering his body. He''d lost count after a dozen.


    "Alright, drop him here. Then leave us, I want a word with him alone," ordered a muffled voice from above.


    Footsteps echoed away before a zipper sound sliced through the silence. Suddenly, Maximus squinted, desperately trying to see through his blurry vision as the bag opened. Blood and dizziness made it nearly impossible, but he could just barely make out a figure standing above him, face hidden beneath a balaclava.


    "Could''ve been kidnapped by Harry Potter for all I know," Maximus murmured weakly, his mind drifting in and out of lucidity. "Harry Potter¡­ now that''s a frightening thought. How would I even beat him? A headbutt, maybe a quick kick between his legs¡­ I''d like to see him spell his way out of that one."


    "Still cracking jokes, even now?" The masked figure chuckled darkly, grabbing a fistful of Maximus''s black hair and forcing his head upward roughly. "I still can''t believe someone like you led the White Tiger Gang. Clawing your way up from nothing, turning yourself into someone people feared. What a pathetic joke."


    Maximus strained harder, fighting desperately against the blur, desperately wanting to see clearly, but his eyes failed him miserably.


    My eyes are worthless¡­ Is his voice disguised, or am I just imagining it?


    "You had to have known this day was coming. I''m honored I get to be the one to finish off the great Maximus Darn." The man pulled off his hood dramatically, but the blood dripping into Maximus''s eyes completely blocked any chance of recognition.


    "I want you to see the face of your executioner. You always said nobody could own you. But you were wrong. Gangs don''t rule this city, money does."


    The man released his grip on Maximus''s hair and delivered a brutal kick, sending him toppling backward. A frigid rush of water flooded his mouth, and Maximus sank rapidly, the faint light above quickly disappearing into endless darkness.


    Am I drowning? Is this really how my life ends? Without even knowing who killed me, or why? Money rules? Was my death purchased by someone?


    Anger ignited inside him, bitterly clear now.


    Those words, no one owns me, only someone very close to me knew that phrase. Was someone from my own gang behind this? Was I betrayed? Haven''t I suffered enough? Whoever is up there listening, whoever controls this cruel world, don''t you owe me this much, a chance to know who did this to me?


    His furious thoughts gradually dimmed, fading into nothingness alongside his anger. That moment marked the definitive end of Maximus Darn, infamous leader of the White Tiger Gang.


    *****


    The peace that followed was shockingly brief. A blinding pain exploded inside Maximus''s skull, far worse than any stab wound he''d endured. His energy drained away, replaced entirely by overwhelming agony.


    Is this punishment for cursing whoever controls fate? But wait, if I feel pain, does that mean I''m still alive?


    Maximus struggled desperately, trying to move even a finger or open his eyes, but couldn''t determine if he succeeded.


    "We have a response! Quickly, alert medical staff immediately! He''s reacting!"


    Voices urgently surrounded him. A steady beeping sound beside him became clearer, louder now. He was sure he knew exactly where he must be.


    A deeper, sharper voice barked orders, authoritative and demanding: "You will do everything in your power to save Max Stern. Cost is irrelevant. The Stern family will pay whatever it takes. Fail, and none of you should bother returning tomorrow."


    Who is this arrogant jerk with the bossy attitude? Maximus thought bitterly. But realization suddenly hit him hard, the voice was talking about him. And the name wasn''t Maximus Darn anymore. It was Max Stern.


    No¡­ This can''t be true. The Stern family? One of the wealthiest families in the entire country?

 Chapter 2 - 2: The Richest Family

    If Maximus and his family had been cursed with endless misfortune, the Stern Family stood on the opposite end of the spectrum, blessed with an almost absurd amount of luck. Their legacy stretched back generations, rooted deeply in the history of a particular piece of land they had owned, a modest property that just happened to include a natural spring.


    Decades earlier, they''d sold the land and its precious spring to a company, securing not only a massive upfront sum but lifelong royalties from every bottle of water sold. The Stern Spring Water brand quickly became a household name nationwide, a condition carefully written into their lucrative deal.


    But even this monumental success was merely the foundation of their fortune. Leveraging the incredible wealth from the spring, the Sterns dove headfirst into the tech world, becoming angel investors in promising startups. Almost every venture they touched flourished, multiplying their wealth exponentially and continuously.


    Soon, the Stern Family founded their own venture capital firm, dedicated entirely to identifying and supporting startups with the potential for immense growth. Their investments seemed infallible, and their fortune ballooned dramatically year after year. Eventually, their influence spread far beyond technology. They invested in gaming companies, hospitals, pharmaceuticals, life insurance firms, entertainment industries, anywhere there was significant money to be made, the Sterns had a stake.


    Now, the Stern Family wasn''t just one of the richest families in the nation, they were arguably among the most powerful, wielding influence in nearly every profitable industry imaginable. Their empire spanned the globe, influencing markets, politics, and even public opinion.


    Maximus''s mind was spinning as he lay silently in his hospital bed. It can''t be¡­ Not that Stern Family. Stern is a common name, right? he thought desperately, attempting to reassure himself.


    He''d been awake for hours now, yet he hadn''t dared open his eyes fully. Although his fingers twitched with newfound strength and he felt sure he could open his eyes at any moment, the unfamiliar voices referring to him as "Max Stern" had left him anxious. So instead, he waited patiently until silence filled the room.


    Once the voices finally vanished, he cautiously opened one eye, glancing around the room. Crisp white walls surrounded him, with intricate, artistic wave-like patterns decorating them. Even the food trays nearby were meticulously arranged, resembling dishes from a Michelin-starred restaurant.


    Seriously, do people think fancy rooms heal better? The things rich people waste money on, Maximus scoffed silently.


    Summoning his strength, he swung his legs off the bed, his muscles weak and trembling beneath him as he stood. Despite his frail state, he had urgent business to handle. Fortunately, the luxurious hospital room included a private bathroom¡ªexactly where he needed to go first.


    He stepped inside, sighing with relief as he finally emptied his bladder. "Ahh," he exhaled softly, "I''m convinced there''s nothing better in the world than this."


    After finishing, he quickly moved onto his next critical task. He stepped toward the mirror, nervously examining his reflection. His fingers reached out, tugging gently at his own cheek, confirming what he''d feared most.


    This is real. This is absolutely, undeniably real. I''m in someone else''s body.


    Every doubt vanished instantly, leaving him stunned and confused. Judging by the lingering pain, this was certainly no dream.


    How did this even happen? Did some mystical force grant my wish? Was there some magic genie hiding in that lake? The idea of reincarnation flickered through his mind. It was a concept vaguely familiar from his mother''s side of the family, usually reincarnation meant returning as another creature or starting anew without memories. But Maximus remembered everything vividly, especially the brutal betrayal that had ended his previous life. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Now, staring back at him from the mirror was the unfamiliar face of a teenager, around eighteen years old. The boy had striking features, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a well-proportioned nose, neither too prominent nor too subtle. Despite his confusion, Maximus found himself impressed by his new appearance.


    But there were drawbacks. The body was slender, far too slender. It looked like it weighed barely sixty-five kilos despite being around six feet tall. Practically skin and bones, he thought critically.


    His hair, too, puzzled him. It was thick and silky, reaching just down to his eyebrows, but styled awkwardly in a bowl cut. Maximus preferred a more mature style, swept back neatly with a fringe framing his face.


    But what bothered him most was its color, vibrantly red.


    "Why is this kid''s hair bright red of all colors?" he muttered in disbelief. "Could this be related to my lucky red underwear? Is that why I survived and ended up in this body?"


    He shook his head immediately, dismissing such absurd thoughts, yet couldn''t deny the strangeness of his entire situation.


    As he studied himself further, he noticed something alarming. Gently pulling open his white hospital robe, Maximus saw a collection of dark bruises scattered across his torso. Gingerly, he pressed one, flinching sharply.


    "Ah! Damn, that hurts," he hissed.


    The bruises varied in size and color, evidence of repeated and deliberate harm. Someone had clearly taken care to avoid visible areas like his face or forearms, hiding the abuse beneath his clothes.


    "Everyone has their own problems," Maximus murmured, determinedly pushing aside these disturbing revelations. "I need to focus on figuring out what''s happening here."


    Resolutely, he approached the door, opening it only to freeze instantly. Standing directly outside was a sharply dressed man in an immaculate black suit, his dark hair neatly parted, styled impeccably. He adjusted his thin glasses, scrutinizing Maximus carefully.


    "So," the man spoke calmly, his tone composed yet faintly intimidating, "it seems you''ve been pretending to sleep until everyone left."


    Caught entirely off guard, Maximus hesitated. He''d planned to learn more about himself discreetly, needing to understand the date, his surroundings, and his identity first. Yet now, he faced someone who clearly knew him intimately.


    "Err, uh," Maximus stammered, his mind racing for an excuse. "The truth is¡­ the truth is, I have amnesia!"


    The man''s eyebrow rose skeptically. "Amnesia?" he repeated, sounding unimpressed.


    Maximus nodded rapidly, sticking with his hastily chosen explanation. "Yes, amnesia. Honestly, I''m terrified. I don''t know who I am, or what''s happened to me. I don''t even know who you are!"


    The man sighed deeply, adjusting his glasses in frustration. "This could be troublesome if you''re telling the truth," he admitted reluctantly. "Very troublesome indeed."


    With measured composure, he introduced himself formally. "My name is Aron Heart," he explained calmly, pointing to himself. "I''ve served as your personal guard for several years, always by your side when needed."


    A personal guard? Maximus''s confusion deepened. Why would someone need a personal bodyguard?


    "I suppose if you truly have lost your memory," Aron continued, apparently sensing Maximus''s thoughts, "you must be wondering why someone like you needs protection."


    Maximus nodded cautiously, desperate for answers yet careful not to betray his ignorance too openly.


    "Because," Aron explained slowly and clearly, "you are Max Stern, the youngest heir of the Stern Family."


    Hearing Aron speak those words made Maximus''s heart pound furiously. His suspicions were confirmed. I was right, he thought, both shocked and overwhelmed. It really is THAT Stern Family.

 Chapter 3 - 3: Old Traits Dont Disappear

    Aron patiently began to delve into all the finer details, carefully explaining everything to Maximus. He clarified that Maximus, or rather, Max Stern was a seventeen-year-old student in his final year of high school.


    However, Max wasn''t anything like your average high school senior. Aron emphasized that Max was the youngest heir to the influential Stern family, meticulously detailing their immense wealth, extensive businesses, and far-reaching power. Strangely enough, Aron even went as far as listing Max''s relatives, as if this were critical information to grasp immediately.


    "You have two uncles, each with their own children," Aron explained methodically, his voice steady and calm. "You also have two aunts, both of whom are married. Each with a sibling who is older than you, placing you squarely as the youngest heir."


    Max listened intently, absorbing each detail. Aron''s voice softened slightly as he addressed a more sensitive subject, Max''s parents.


    "Unfortunately, your parents passed away in a car accident while you were attending school," Aron explained gently. "Since then, I''ve been your legal guardian, responsible for your safety and well-being."


    Maximus blinked in surprise. Aron appeared only a few years older than him, yet he was entrusted with guardianship? Max''s confusion was evident.


    "I realize this is a significant shock," Aron continued, unfazed by Max''s obvious bewilderment. "There''s a great deal to catch up on, so I''ll remain close by, filling you in as thoroughly as possible."


    Aron smoothly reached into his jacket pocket and handed Max a large, state-of-the-art smartphone. Max immediately recognized the latest model, identical to the one he''d owned in his previous life. The familiarity gave him a strange sense of comfort.


    *This confirms that I''m living in roughly the same time period,* Max deduced silently. Turning on the phone, facial recognition immediately unlocked the device, confirming it had only been three days since he''d been betrayed and nearly killed.


    "Do you always carry phones with my face ID ready to go?" Max asked skeptically.


    In response, Aron casually produced two more identical smartphones from his pockets, both pristine and fully functional. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Young master," Aron explained evenly, "this isn''t the first time you''ve lost or damaged a phone. I always keep extras on hand. Each device has my contact pre-programmed, ensuring you can reach me at a moment''s notice. Whatever you need or wish, I''ll strive to fulfill."


    An amused smile spread across Max''s face as an idea formed. "Anything? So, if I asked for a red carpet to greet me outside and a new Lamborghini ready for my exit from this hospital, you''d make it happen?"


    Aron, without hesitation, retrieved another phone, this one distinctively red, and began dialing.


    "I have a request from the young master¡ª"


    "Wait!" Max interrupted in panic. "What exactly are you doing?"


    "He wants a red carpet rolled out and the latest Lamborghini waiting outside," Aron continued calmly into the phone. "Yes, it''s an unusual request. He''s woken up with a curious case of ''young master syndrome''... Indeed, quite troubling, but we must oblige."


    "Cancel the order!" Max shouted frantically.


    Aron glanced at Max, raising an eyebrow subtly. "Cancel the order," he instructed into the phone before pocketing it neatly.


    "As I said," Aron reaffirmed, "I''ll fulfill any request within reason. But understand I''ll openly judge your choices."


    "Noted," Maximus replied dryly, shaking his head. The bizarre loyalty from Aron was unlike anything he''d ever encountered, even within his former gang.


    Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.


    "Come in," Aron called.


    A doctor entered swiftly, clipboard in hand. "Sir Aron, please sign some paperwork before Master Stern can be discharged. Follow me briefly, please."


    As Aron followed the doctor out, Max was once again left alone with his swirling thoughts.


    This is real, I''m actually in a new body, and not just anyone''s body, but a Stern family heir. Maybe my lifetime of struggle paid off after all.


    Driven by disbelief once more, he hurried to the bathroom mirror, closely examining his new face again. Seeing a stranger staring back was still unsettling, yet undeniably thrilling.


    With this power and influence, finding out who betrayed me from the White Tigers will be easy. I''ll uncover every detail and ensure they pay dearly.


    A dark, satisfied smile crept onto his face. Noticing the unsettling expression in the mirror, Max quickly relaxed his cheeks, attempting a more natural look.


    "With a new life, I should fully embrace a new identity," he declared aloud. "From now on, I''m Max Stern¡ªnot Maximus."


    Studying his reflection closely, Max suddenly glimpsed movement in the mirror''s corner. Instinctively, he dodged as a hand lunged toward him, missing by mere inches. Heart racing, Max rushed out of the bathroom into the larger hospital room, spinning quickly to face his attacker.


    A man dressed in all-black clothing, a surgical mask hiding his face, stood menacingly where Max had been moments earlier.


    Who sent this guy? Which gang is after me? Max thought in confusion before reminding himself sharply, Wait, I''m in a new body, why would any gangs target me now?


    "Come on, kid," the masked attacker sneered arrogantly, lunging forward with reckless punches. Max easily sidestepped each wild swing, frustration clear on his face.


    "Who taught you how to fight?" Max taunted, before stepping in swiftly, delivering a firm punch directly to the attacker''s face. The man staggered backward, stunned but not down.


    Max winced, shaking his reddening knuckles. *Damn, that hurt! In my old body, this would''ve been nothing.*


    "You worthless brat!" the attacker spat venomously, pulling out a pocket knife. "I didn''t want to escalate, but you''ve forced me. Start begging for your life now!"


    Instead of fear, Max felt anger surging. Slowly lifting his head, he locked eyes fiercely with the attacker, whose confidence wavered.


    "You said this was an easy job," Max said, his voice calm but deadly. "You have no idea who you just threatened with that knife."


    As Max advanced, the man instinctively retreated, suddenly unsure why fear gripped him so tightly, sweat trickling down his face.


    "Drawing a blade isn''t a joke," Max continued coldly. "Just remember, you made this serious first."

 Chapter 4 - 4: What Did You Do?

    Slowly, Max lifted both hands up protectively in front of his face, lowering his stance and slightly bending his knees. His earlier cockiness vanished, replaced by focused intensity. He was no longer taunting or smiling; now, he was completely serious.


    The attacker hesitated, suddenly uncertain, thrown off by Max''s abrupt change in demeanor. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''re just a kid!" the attacker shouted desperately, lunging forward with the knife extended.


    But as the man closed the distance, Max swiftly moved forward with calculated precision, completely unafraid of the blade. Just as the attacker thrust the knife, Max skillfully deflected his wrist upward, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge.


    With impressive agility, Max locked onto the attacker''s arm, gripping tightly at the elbow and twisting inward forcefully. His other fist rapidly collided with the man''s face once, then again, in a relentless assault. Punch after punch connected sharply, weakening the man''s grasp until the knife clattered onto the hospital floor.


    Max delivered one final devastating strike, sending the attacker sprawling backward into the wall. The man slumped to the floor, legs sprawled awkwardly, groaning softly.


    "It...it hurts," the attacker muttered weakly, barely conscious.


    Max bent down and calmly retrieved the knife, stepping toward the fallen man. "When you threaten people with weapons, you should expect them to be used against you," he warned coldly.


    Max grabbed the attacker by the shirt, attempting to lift him but quickly realizing the body''s limited strength. His younger, weaker form couldn''t handle the weight, causing frustration to flash across his face.


    "P-please," the attacker whimpered, barely audible.


    "I wonder how many times you''ve ignored someone else saying those exact words," Max said grimly.


    The door slid open suddenly, catching Max by surprise. He glanced over quickly, meeting Aron''s wide, startled eyes. Aron, normally composed, stood frozen in shock at the chaotic scene before him. Swiftly, Aron collected himself and closed the door firmly behind him.


    "Young master! What are you doing?" Aron demanded, voice strained.


    Damn, I nearly forgot, Max thought guiltily. I can''t afford to lose control and ruin this new life.


    Quickly, he released the attacker and dropped the knife, raising his hands innocently. "I was only defending myself," Max explained hurriedly. "I have no idea who this guy is, he attacked me first."


    Aron took a moment, processing the situation. "Go to the room next door. It''s empty," he instructed calmly. "I''ll arrange someone to bring you proper clothes. You''re discharged and free to leave. I''ll handle this matter personally and find out exactly what''s happening here."


    Reluctantly, Max obeyed, trusting Aron''s judgment for now. As soon as he left, Aron swiftly took out his phone, dialing urgently. "Right, I need someone to investigate immediately. Thank you," he ordered sharply.


    After ending the call, Aron approached the attacker, carefully inspecting him. "A knife, this wasn''t a random incident. Someone specifically targeted the young master," he muttered darkly. "Who would be bold enough to attack a member of the Stern family openly? Someone clearly hired this fool."


    Aron''s inspection revealed more, he noticed the attacker''s elbow was severely injured, possibly broken. This wasn''t the work of an amateur, which puzzled Aron deeply. As head of Max''s personal security detail, he understood threats intimately. But how could Max Stern, who had no formal combat training, inflict such precise damage?


    In the adjoining room, Max was met by two silent men in sharp suits who handed him fresh clothing, a perfectly tailored suit. They departed without a word, leaving Max alone. He dressed quickly, feeling familiar comfort in the sharp attire, similar to what he wore in his past life.


    "I bet this kid has a hundred of these suits, just like his endless phones," Max muttered, flexing his hand, which now throbbed painfully. His knuckles were swollen, possibly fractured.


    "Lesson learned, I can''t fight recklessly with this weaker body. To face the White Tigers again, I''ll have to regain my strength first," Max said determinedly, glancing at his unimpressive muscles. "But more importantly, who is behind these attacks? Even Aron seems unaware. There''s clearly something deeper at play."


    The door slid open, interrupting his thoughts. Aron entered, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and carefully observing Max.


    "You finally look presentable," Aron commented dryly.


    "Considering someone just tried to kill me, maybe appearance isn''t the priority," Max retorted sarcastically. "Did you find anything about my attacker?"


    "Our private security team is investigating," Aron assured him. "They''re highly trained professionals employed directly by the Stern family."


    "Well, clearly they failed," Max countered bluntly. "Maybe it''s time to hire better security."


    Unexpectedly, Aron bowed deeply, nearly ninety degrees. "I sincerely apologize," he said solemnly. "The responsibility for your safety ultimately lies with me. The Stern family employs several private security teams, each serving different heirs. I personally oversee the ninth security team¡ªyour team. This failure is mine alone."


    Max felt an odd pang of guilt. Aron took his duties seriously, more seriously than Max had initially realized. "It''s not entirely your fault," Max conceded softly, uncomfortable with the genuine remorse Aron displayed.


    "Once we have more information, I''ll inform you immediately if relevant," Aron continued, straightening up again. "But before any of that, there''s another important matter. There''s a Stern family gathering tonight, and your attendance is expected."


    Max''s heart sank instantly. Attending such an event without proper knowledge of family dynamics was risky, especially when he needed to conceal his amnesia.


    "It''s crucial we keep your memory loss confidential," Aron emphasized gravely. "The other family members would undoubtedly exploit any perceived weakness. One more important detail¡ª"


    The atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly, heavy with tension. Max felt almost suffocated by the weight of Aron''s words.


    "When interacting with your relatives tonight," Aron cautioned seriously, "ensure I''m always by your side."


    Strangely, Aron''s intense protective instinct brought a slight smile to Max''s face. It was an unfamiliar feeling to have someone genuinely looking out for him.


    "Understood," Max agreed seriously. "I''ll heed your warning. But first, how about we get me a proper haircut? After all, first impressions matter, don''t they?"

 Chapter 5 - 5: Meeting The Stern Family

    Aron continued glancing repeatedly into his rearview mirror as he drove, still unable to fully believe how drastically a simple haircut could change someone''s appearance. Max''s hair was now neatly styled, significantly shorter on the sides and layered stylishly on top, giving him a refined and sophisticated look. A few carefully applied products ensured it wasn''t as straight and dull as before.


    It was similar to his previous look but was more vibrant as his hair wasn''t thinning nor was it greying like before. He was starting to see a lot more upsides to this body then downsides.


    "Have you finished reviewing all the documents I gave you?" Aron asked, breaking the silence.


    "Yes¡­ I think so," Max replied, eyeing the thick stack of papers resting in his lap. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming. He wondered when Aron had found the time to compile such detailed profiles. Or like with everything else was it just something he carried around him everywhere he went.


    He started to wonder what else he might be able to ask for and if Aron could produce it on the spot.


    "Alright," Aron began calmly, "we have some time before arriving, so let''s review. First, your two uncles."


    Max flipped through the documents, refreshing his memory. Aron had given him extensive profiles of all the key family members he needed to watch carefully.


    "Dave Stern," Max began, "the second eldest. He primarily manages a chain of all-you-can-eat buffets. Judging by his profile photo, he''s definitely enjoying his own product too much." Max smirked briefly. "He also invests heavily in restaurant businesses. His wife is mostly behind the scenes, apparently quiet and reserved. It seems she''s good at managing things quietly without attracting much attention."


    Max continued with confidence. "Then there''s Randy Stern. He handles multiple financial institutions, mostly providing capital for real estate developments. He has one son, another heir." Max paused, recognizing the name from his previous life, recalling past indirect encounters within the underground business world. Randy Stern was far from innocent¡ªhis hands were clearly dirty, deeply entangled in shady deals and questionable transactions that few knew about.


    "His son, Donto, attends university and is the captain of the soccer team. Athletic, charismatic, and popular," Max summarized smoothly. "He appears like the kind of guy who effortlessly attracts attention and respect, possibly making him a significant figure among his peers." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aron listened intently, visibly impressed by Max''s quick absorption of the information. "Alright, continue with the rest."


    "One of my aunts, Masha Stern," Max explained thoughtfully, "is quiet and reserved, wears glasses, has long hair, and heads the HR department at Stern headquarters. Clearly, she holds considerable trust and influence within the family." He glanced up at Aron, adding mischievously, "But her judgment in partners is questionable¡ªshe''s been divorced three times. That might indicate some personal instability or poor judgment in relationships."


    Aron sighed in mild exasperation. "Important details, please. No need for unnecessary commentary."


    "You don''t think someone being divorced three times is significant? I pity the woman you end up with," Max retorted playfully.


    Aron rolled his eyes, sighing again. "Sometimes I worry the hospital discharged you prematurely."


    Max scowled at Aron''s sharp retort, realizing Aron''s sarcastic remarks somehow managed to sting more deeply than insults he''d faced from his former gang members. He quickly regained his composure, unwilling to let Aron''s words get under his skin.


    "Next is Aunt Karen Stern," Max said, refocusing. "Clearly a fan of cosmetic enhancements¡ªespecially lip fillers. Honestly, what''s wrong with people''s taste nowadays? She''s obviously someone concerned heavily with appearances and status symbols."


    Aron cleared his throat pointedly, guiding Max back to the subject.


    "Right, Karen Stern¡ªthe oldest heir," Max continued seriously, noting Aron''s annotations. "She operates a major department store in the city center. You''ve placed a star next to her name."


    "Care to guess why?" Aron prompted.


    "As the oldest heir, she holds substantial influence," Max answered confidently. "She''s probably the frontrunner for succession, making her particularly dangerous. Her position and influence are strong, and she likely has allies who support her ambitions."


    Aron was impressed by Max''s astute observations, though he kept his thoughts hidden, merely nodding subtly in approval.


    "Then the younger generation," Max went on. "Karen''s son, Chad Stern. Currently listed as an entrepreneur, though suspiciously lacking specifics¡ªlikely unemployed. Minor acting gigs are noted, undoubtedly leveraging his family name. Blond hair, sunglasses indoors¡ªhe fits every clich¨¦ perfectly. He seems like the type who relies heavily on family influence rather than genuine skill or effort."


    Aron remained silent, indirectly confirming Max''s assumptions.


    "Then there''s Karen''s daughter, Bobo Stern. Highly intelligent, studied at prestigious universities, and currently excelling in biotech research. At least one of them has real talent," Max noted approvingly, recognizing her potential.


    "Lastly, we have Cici Stern," Max continued thoughtfully. "Nothing remarkable¡ªshe holds a marketing job at a company not affiliated with the Sterns. As the second youngest, she doesn''t seem threatening compared to the others. Probably someone who prefers living outside the family shadow, choosing independence over influence."


    After reviewing all eight family members, Max decisively closed the hefty packet of papers, placing it firmly on his lap.


    "There you go," Max declared confidently. "All reviewed and memorized. This family is certainly filled with interesting characters, each with their strengths, weaknesses, and ambitions."


    "Need I remind you?" Aron asked seriously, steering the car carefully.


    Ahead, an imposing six-meter-high gate loomed, marking the entrance to their destination. Beyond, Max saw expansive, immaculately landscaped gardens¡ªmeticulously trimmed hedges, vibrant flower beds, and a majestic water feature gracefully spanning the front grounds. Every element screamed wealth and meticulous attention to detail.


    Then came the main residence, a sprawling mansion straight from a fairytale. Its grandeur suggested it could comfortably host tens of thousands of guests¡ªa residence fit for royalty. This breathtaking estate belonged to the Stern family, a tangible symbol of their extraordinary power and influence.


    "Need I remind you," Aron repeated firmly as they approached the mansion, "you are also a Stern."

 Chapter 6 - 6: The Family Dog

    In Max''s previous life, it wasn''t as if he hadn''t experienced luxury. Starting from the bottom, he had managed to build one of the largest gangs in the city. With that success came certain privileges and riches, placing him among the wealthiest men he knew. Yet, now standing in front of the Stern family mansion, he felt utterly insignificant in comparison.


    His jaw nearly dropped as he gazed at the sprawling estate, which stretched endlessly to his left and right. The grandeur before him was unlike anything he''d ever witnessed. This was genuine, mind-boggling wealth, on a level he hadn''t imagined was even possible.


    "Remember what I told you," Aron said firmly, watching Max closely.


    "Right," Max replied distractedly, moving to open the enormous mansion door.


    Instantly, Aron reached out and tightly grabbed Max''s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.


    ''What the heck? That was quick, and his grip is unbelievably strong!'' Max thought, masking the pain and surprise behind a strained smile.


    "What are you doing?" Max slowly asked through gritted teeth.


    "I should be asking you that," Aron whispered harshly. "Did I not instruct you to be on your absolute best behavior?"


    Confusion clouded Max''s mind as he wondered what he''d done wrong. Aron looked angry, almost as if he might strike Max.


    "You''re a member of the Stern Family," Aron explained quietly but fiercely. "Do you think a Stern family member would open doors themselves? If anyone sees you behaving so casually, they''ll exploit it to their advantage." Aron paused, his voice lowering to a regretful mumble, "Just like they did before..."


    Max caught the quiet remark clearly and understood there was deep history behind it.


    ''Damn, these rich people are insane. They can''t even open their own doors? This is an entirely different world,'' Max thought bitterly, stepping aside to allow Aron to lead.


    With composure, Aron smoothly pushed open the grand doors, revealing an enormous hallway. Majestic staircases spiraled elegantly upward on both sides, leading to the second floor. Expensive paintings lined the walls, each worth more than several houses. Max couldn''t help but marvel at the absurdity of the lavish decorations.


    ''I wonder how much blood would''ve spilled back home just to possess one of these paintings. Here, they''re casually displayed everywhere,'' Max reflected grimly.


    As they entered, Max quickly noticed numerous suited guards positioned strategically throughout the estate. Security was clearly a top priority, making the mansion appear nearly impregnable¡ªeven to his former White Tiger gang. He doubted any group could breach these grounds easily.


    Through large windows, Max observed numerous luxury vehicles arriving via another entrance. Behind the mansion, decorations and tables were set up in the vast gardens, clearly prepared for some grand celebration. Yet Aron guided him toward the mansion''s front, away from the arriving guests.


    Eventually, Aron opened another set of ornate doors, revealing an extravagant reception room beneath an enormous chandelier. The opulence of the space was staggering, with plush couches, exquisite furniture, and tasteful decor fit for royalty. Max''s attention quickly shifted from the room to its occupants. All the Stern family heirs mentioned earlier were gathered here, seemingly awaiting his arrival.


    "Looks like you managed to arrive on time. Impressive," remarked a woman seated prominently across the room. Pearls adorned her neck, her blonde hair styled meticulously, though clearly enhanced by cosmetic procedures. Her patronizing tone immediately identified her as Aunt Karen.


    Ignoring the insult, Max silently moved towards his cousins seated nearby, intending to blend with the younger crowd. However, a sharp voice halted his steps abruptly.


    "Max, where do you think you''re going?" The voice belonged to a stern woman, Masha Stern, the family''s oldest aunt. Her short grey hair framed a severe expression behind round glasses, and she wore numerous heavy rings.


    "Do you have no manners? You must greet each elder properly. Just because your parents are gone doesn''t mean you''re free to act uncivilized," she sneered cruelly.


    Instantly, Max''s heart raced, and anger surged within him. He clutched his chest momentarily, stunned by his physical reaction.


    ''What''s happening? Is this body reacting instinctively to her insults about his parents?'' Max wondered furiously.


    Though they weren''t his own parents, the cruelty resonated deeply. Swallowing his pride, Max turned slowly, approaching Masha and bowing his head respectfully.


    "It''s an honor to be here," Max said stiffly, internally cringing. ''If my old gang saw me bowing to these rich snobs, they''d never stop laughing.''


    Max proceeded methodically, bowing to each elder¡ªDave, Randy, and finally Karen, who smirked cruelly. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Perhaps one day, when you''ve developed half a brain, you''ll understand half of what we discuss. You hardly deserve our family name," Karen mocked openly.


    Max kept silent, biting his tongue as he walked away toward his cousins.


    ''Just how much did this poor kid suffer from his family''s insults? His life must have been awful,'' Max thought sympathetically.


    Reaching the younger group, Max noticed they glanced briefly before resuming their own conversations, blatantly ignoring him. He slumped onto a nearby sofa, relieved to escape direct ridicule. Aron stood silently behind him, observing everything carefully.


    As Max listened in, their conversations quickly grated on his nerves. They spoke only of their personal achievements and lavish expenditures, competing for attention.


    Eventually, Chad, a pompous-looking cousin with short dyed grey hair and sunglasses indoors, shook his empty wine glass exaggeratedly.


    "Hey, Maxxy!" Chad called condescendingly. "Fetch us some wine from the kitchen. You''re good at tasks like that, right?"


    Max''s eyes narrowed dangerously. ''Maxxy? Who does this brat think he''s talking to?''


    He was about to respond harshly when Aron quickly placed firm hands on his shoulders.


    "I''ll fetch it," Aron stated calmly, attempting to defuse the situation. As he stepped forward, another cousin spoke sharply.


    "Did you not hear Chad, Aron?" Donto, muscular and intimidating, stared fiercely at Max.


    Donto was muscular and over six foot tall. He was intimidating to say the least. It was no wonder he was considered the athletic member of the family. "Chad asked Max to get us the wine, not you. Are you going to disobey an order from the Stern family? If a dog is no longer loyal, then they deserve to become nothing but a stray."


    Immediately hearing these words Max shot up from his seat, both of his hands balled up into fists.

 Chapter 7 - 7: I Hate My New Family

    Max stood up so suddenly that even Aron flinched in surprise. It wasn''t the kind of move someone calm would make.


    What are you thinking, young master?! Aron shouted inwardly. You can''t lose it¡ªnot here. If you do, it''ll only make things worse. They''ll twist it against you.


    And I''m still worried about what happened at the hospital. If you try anything reckless here¡­


    There''s no one left in the family on your side anymore¡­ and there''s only so much I can do.


    "It''s just a few drinks," Max said, turning with a sudden smile toward Aron. "I''ll grab some. Did you want anything, Aron?"


    Once again, Aron stood there, mouth slightly open¡ªstunned by the question and, at the same time, grateful that nothing had happened.


    "I''m not allowed to drink while on duty, young master," Aron replied with a small bow. As he raised his head, he pointed firmly in a particular direction.


    Max understood. Aron was pointing toward the kitchen. In a house this size, it could''ve been anywhere¡ªand it would''ve seemed odd for someone who''d been here before to ask.


    Afterward, Aron simply watched as Max walked away, pushing through the doors and finally stepping into the kitchen.


    I don''t care about how they treat me, but that Donto guy¡­ he was even bad-mouthing Aron. Just because he''s here to help me? Max thought, his jaw tightening. These people leave a bad taste in my mouth.


    Luckily, refreshments had already been set out on a massive kitchen island, including the same wine bottles they''d been drinking from earlier, so Max didn''t have to play detective to find anything.


    As he started pouring into fresh glasses, he couldn''t help but wonder what was really going on with the Stern family.


    Why is everyone treating the kid like this? Is it just because he''s an easy target? They''re acting like he poisoned their breakfast or something.


    For a second, a mischievous thought crossed Max''s mind¡ªmaybe to let a little bit of his saliva ''accidentally'' drip into their drinks.


    If he''s useless and the youngest, there''s no way he''d be chosen as the heir. So why act like he''s a threat? Maybe¡­ maybe it has something to do with those bruises on his body.


    In the end, Max decided not to mess with the drinks. It was safer to just get through this whole event and focus on starting his own journey in this new body.


    Carefully, Max placed all the drinks on a round tray and walked ahead. He opened the door and stepped back into the main reception room.


    All their eyes locked onto him¡ªwatching the tray in his hands, the way he walked, his posture.


    "That look suits you better," Bobo smirked as Max set down his drink. "Maybe you should think about becoming a waiter once you''re done with school."


    Max ignored the comment and continued handing out the drinks. After Bobo, he moved to Donto, and then to Cici, who wore a white tennis skirt and a fitted polo shirt.


    Out of everyone there so far, she hadn''t said anything harsh to him or Aron¡ªthough her looks had been just as sharp as the others''.


    Still, Max gave her a small smile as he passed her the drink.


    Finally, he approached Chad with the last glass.


    "What do you think you''re doing?" Chad asked, narrowing his eyes.


    "I''m sorry, what?" Max replied.


    For a second, he thought maybe he had lost it¡ªimagined himself throwing the drink all over the guy. But after blinking a few times, he looked again and saw Chad''s clothes were perfectly dry.


    "Why''d you serve me last? Didn''t you hear what Marsha said?" Chad snapped. "Are you that dumb? Can''t even serve drinks in the right order? I''m older than Cici, but you gave her a drink before me."


    Max honestly hadn''t realized it was an issue. He was used to showing respect to elders, sure¡ªbut the others were only a couple years older than him at most.


    He hadn''t thought there were any strict rules about drink order. If he''d known, he would''ve gladly served Chad last.


    "I didn''t know," Max said simply, turning to head back to his seat.


    "You don''t even have basic manners," Chad said, voice rising. "Without manners, you''re no better than an animal."


    That line made Max stop in his tracks and whip around, eyes narrowed.


    "What?!" Chad barked. "You got something to say?"


    "I¡­" Max paused for a second. "When you eat yogurt, do you lick the lid?"


    "What?" Chad repeated, thrown off by the weirdly random question. "What kind of dumb question is that? Is that all your brain can come up with?"


    "Of course I wouldn''t lick the lid. What do I look like, some beggar?"


    Immediately, Max couldn''t help but grin.


    It was a question I''d always wanted to ask people like this¡ªthose raised with a silver spoon in their mouths. Though, in their case, a diamond spoon might be more accurate.


    "Are you smiling? Are you making fun of me?" Chad shouted, suddenly jumping out of his seat.


    "I know you''re doing this on purpose¡ªdisrespecting me with your stupid questions and complete lack of manners!" he yelled. "You think I''m an easy target, the joke of this family or something¡ªbut you''re the real fool!"


    Chad started moving forward, and Max instantly clocked the shift.


    If he gets close and throws a punch, it''s self-defense, Max thought, mentally bracing himself.


    "You¡­ You¡ª!"


    "We welcome you, Father!" a voice rang out suddenly from the side¡ªit was Marsha''s.


    Everyone turned their heads to see her bowing toward the large double doors.


    And it was obvious why.


    A man had just entered the room¡ªhis silver hair slicked back, a thick, powerful beard covering his face. He wore a sharp grey suit that fit perfectly.


    He looked to be around seventy years old, but there was a weight to him¡ªa powerful aura that filled the room the moment he stepped in. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Immediately, the adults followed Marsha''s lead and bowed.


    "We welcome you, Father."


    Then, the man turned to the younger ones, who immediately bowed. Max quickly followed their lead and did the same.


    "We welcome you, Grandfather," they all said in unison.


    When they lifted their heads, a wide smile stretched across the man''s face.


    So this is him, Max thought. Dennis Stern¡ªthe man who started the entire Stern Empire.


    "It''s good to see you all," Dennis said, his deep voice filling the room. "It''s always a pleasure to have the family together like this. It''s a rare thing, getting everyone in one place."


    As Dennis''s eyes moved slowly around the room, they eventually landed on Max¡ªand stayed there a moment longer.


    "Ah, Max. You made it. I was starting to think you wouldn''t be here today," Dennis said. "Come with me. I''d like to speak with you in private."


    Immediately, every pair of eyes in the room shifted to Max.


    He wants to speak to me alone. A one-on-one with Dennis Stern¡­ but why?

 Chapter 8 - 8: Bullets To Billions

    No one questioned it when Dennis called for Max. Almost immediately after saying the words, Dennis had already left the room, walking off with clear purpose.


    Max wanted to ask something¡ªanything¡ªbut even he could feel it: the atmosphere wasn''t right for questions.


    "After you, young master," Aron said, extending a hand. "I''ll be with you every step of the way."


    Surprisingly, those words gave Max a small surge of confidence as he stepped through the doorway, following in the footsteps of Dennis Stern¡ªthe man who built the entire Stern Empire.


    My heart''s beating faster than usual. I can feel it, Max thought. Is it this body I''m in¡­ or is it actually the pressure of being around this man?


    No¡ªit can''t be because of him. I''ve met plenty of powerful people. Leaders of their industries, masters of their crafts¡­ He''s no different. He shouldn''t be different.


    As they exited the reception room, Aron paused, turned back, and closed the grand double doors behind them. He wore a wide grin.


    With a soft click, the doors shut, sealing the room¡ªand everything inside¡ªaway.


    "What the hell is going on?!" Karen snapped. "Why would Father want to meet with him of all people? That useless little brat!"


    "Calm down," Dave Stern said, dabbing sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "It''s been a long time since they''ve seen each other. You know how Father is¡ªhe does stuff like this."


    "Right, right," Karen muttered, pacing. "And it''s just a coincidence that he wants to talk to him privately? You know what that means¡ªhe doesn''t want us knowing a damn thing about what they''re discussing!"


    She bit at her nail, then froze when her eyes locked onto her sister.


    "Marsha, do you know anything about this? Father always tells you everything."


    Marsha had her slender fingers resting near her temple, eyes calm as she answered. "I don''t know anything about it. But judging by the younger ones over there¡­ maybe they do."


    Immediately, all the adults¡ªor rather, the older ones in the room¡ªturned their gazes toward Donto, Chad, Karen, and Cici.


    All of them stiffened, looking incredibly uneasy as the attention landed squarely on them.


    ******


    There were a few things Max noticed as he walked through the manor. One of them was the number of guards stationed throughout the halls¡ªand the man who had joined Dennis the moment they exited the reception area.


    He looked to be in his sixties¡ªan older gentleman, thin and frail-looking. His hair was neatly parted on both sides, and he wore round glasses paired with a clean, well-fitted suit.


    This is Dennis''s right-hand man? Max thought. I would''ve expected someone who looked like they could actually protect him¡­ but I guess since this is just a meeting with family, it''s not that serious.


    Still, if only they knew¡­ if only they had the slightest idea the leader of the White Tiger Gang is currently walking around in their youngest grandson''s body.


    Even now, Max could hardly believe it himself.


    Eventually, they reached a large set of doors with an eccentric design.


    Massive golden handles shaped like lion mouths were fixed to the front, while winding patterns of red dragons curled around the outside edges of both doors.


    With a push from both hands, the doors opened wide, revealing what appeared to be Dennis''s main office.


    The room was large and mostly empty, almost like a long walkway leading straight to a desk at the far end, positioned to face the entrance.


    Behind the desk stood a massive bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling, packed not only with books but with extravagant ornaments and expensive-looking gifts. To the right, tall windows let natural light pour into the space.


    It wasn''t a shabby setup, Max had to admit. In fact, it reminded him a little of how he''d arranged his own office¡ªjust a few days ago, really¡ªthough his had been much smaller.


    Dennis made his way over and sat in a huge office chair with a high back¡ªso tall it almost made him look like he was sitting on a throne.


    His assistant from earlier still stood quietly by his side.


    "Take a seat, Max," Dennis said, his voice calm but commanding.


    Just in front of the desk sat a three-seater sofa with a coffee table placed neatly in between.


    It was obvious this wasn''t the first time the room had been used for meetings. The whole setup gave off an air of quiet intimidation.


    This guy would make a better mob boss than a business leader, Max thought.


    "The symbol of the red dragon¡ªit''s considered lucky in our family," Dennis said, his voice calm and steady. "For generations, we''ve believed it brings us fortune. I think it''s the reason why, all those years ago, the land with the spring was chosen¡­ and why the Stern family rose to where it is today."


    "Every member of the Stern family believes in it to some degree. Even you¡ªdying your hair red!" Dennis let out a laugh.


    "But¡­ you wouldn''t know anything about that, would you?" he added, leaning forward and resting his chin atop his clasped hands.


    That same heavy thumping in Max''s chest returned. But this time, instead of backing down, instead of letting the pressure get to him, he straightened his back and met Dennis''s eyes.


    "What do you mean¡­ grandfather?" Max asked, just barely remembering to add the last word.


    Silence settled over the room as the two stared at each other¡ªneither blinking, neither looking away.


    Then, Dennis broke into a laugh. "Haha, I''m just messing with you!" he said. "Aron already filled me in. I know about your situation. Your secret''s safe with me."


    Max found the situation pretty interesting. From the way Dennis was talking, he had to be referring to Max''s claim of having amnesia. But Max clearly remembered Aron warning him not to bring that up with the rest of the family.


    So¡­ does Dennis not count? Max wondered. Maybe it''s because of his position¡ªbeing the one at the very top.


    "There''s a reason I wanted to speak with you," Dennis said. "Given your situation, I''m sure you''ve forgotten¡­ the race you and everyone else here today are part of." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max''s eyebrow raised slightly. He couldn''t help it.


    "I figured," Dennis continued with a huff. "You see, through my old age and over the years, I''ve watched great families fall¡ªagain and again¡ªbecause of the incompetence of those who came after them.


    "But I''ve decided that the Stern family won''t be one of those. Which is why I created a challenge. A task for each of my heirs¡­ one that will determine who becomes the next in line to inherit the Stern Empire."


    From what little Max knew of Dennis¡ªand judging by this first real impression¡ªthis whole setup definitely felt like something that fit his personality.


    I wonder what kind of task it is, Max thought. Who can kiss up to him the most? That''s basically what business is all about in the end, isn''t it?


    "Each family member was given the same amount of money to do with as they please. Not a penny more, not a penny less," Dennis explained. "They''re free to spend it however they like.


    "At the end of my tenure¡ªwhen I choose to retire¡ªthe one who brings back the most money will become the heir to the Stern Empire."


    Inwardly, Max was grinning. As far as tests went, this was actually a solid way to measure business skill. It was about as fair as a competition like this could get.


    The same starting amount, huh¡­ Max thought. Maybe I could use it. Track down the rest of the White Tiger¡­ figure out who''s really behind this whole mess.


    That thought sparked his next question.


    "And how much did each heir get, Grandfather?" Max asked, softening his tone just a bit.


    "One billion," Dennis replied without hesitation.


    Max quickly rubbed his ears. They were starting to tingle with heat.


    "Sorry¡ªdid you say one million?"


    "Your ears work just fine," Dennis said, his voice rising. "Do you think I''d waste time with such small gains in thisfamily? I said billion. B for Bag, B for Bob, B for¡ª"


    "Bullets," Max cut in.


    "Correct," Dennis nodded.


    Max lowered his head¡ªnot out of respect, but because he had to hide the expression on his face. If Dennis saw the grin he was wearing now¡­


    I can''t believe it, Max thought. Just like that¡­ I''ve gone from bullets to billions.

 Chapter 9 - 9: How Much Money?

    The word billion got thrown around a lot¡ªbut most people didn''t really grasp what it meant. Maybe that was because of the small number that usually came before it.


    But for someone like Max¡ªsomeone who once thought he had serious wealth¡ªhe had a better sense of the bigger picture.


    It was already tough enough for one person to earn a single million dollars in their lifetime. So when someone else claimed to have two million, people might shrug it off, thinking it wasn''t a huge difference.


    That''s because they would hear one and two, and it sounded close. But in truth, that extra million was a large difference. It wasn''t a small gap, it was everything.


    Now if one were to imagine a billion, that was a thousand millions.


    Even with all the power and money the White Tiger Gang had, reaching that kind of wealth would''ve been impossible. Not in this lifetime.


    Max remembered something someone once told him that really put it all into perspective.


    In terms of time:


    One million seconds? That''s about 11 and a half days.


    One billion seconds? That''s 31 years and 8 months.


    Those two numbers weren''t even in the same universe.


    And just like that¡ªjust like snapping his fingers¡ªall of that wealth had landed right into Max''s hands.


    I guess the tricky part in all of this¡­ is how to actually grow the wealth, Max thought. Businesses fail all the time. And having that much money to fall back on might even work against you.


    From Dennis''s perspective, he''s not looking for someone who can just make a few million. He wants someone who can expand his empire¡ªeven after he''s gone.


    Inwardly, Max was grinning. Based on the few interactions he''d had so far, he actually liked the old man. Dennis really did feel more like a mob boss than a businessman.


    The rich life wasn''t exactly what Max had imagined.


    "I''ve now given you all the information everyone else already had," Dennis continued. "You''re officially back on equal footing. There are no biases. What you do with the money is entirely up to you."


    "If you want to just live comfortably off it for the rest of your life, then go ahead. That''ll show me all you ever amounted to. And in time, the world will forget you even existed."


    "Your starting point is already at the top¡ªI want to see if you''ll rise even higher¡­ or fall straight to the bottom."


    Even after hearing Dennis''s words, Max was still deep in thought¡ªmostly about the money¡­ and how he could use it to get back at the White Tiger Gang.


    Sorry to disappoint you, old man.


    "With that, our meeting is over," Dennis said. "I hope you''ll stay today, Max. It''s a birthday celebration, and influential figures from around the world are gathered in the garden. It could be a great place to start building connections¡ªor at least get some ideas. The rest of your family will be doing the same."


    Right then, Max''s stomach let out a low grumble. He hadn''t realized how hungry he was. The thought of party food actually sounded pretty good right about now.


    "Of course," Max replied, giving a respectful bow before turning toward the door. Aron was quick to move, opening it for him.


    As they stepped out, Aron gently closed the door behind them¡ªleaving Dennis alone in the room, eyes fixed straight ahead.


    "Did you see that, Fred?" Dennis said calmly. "He tried to hide it¡­ but there was a smile behind his face."


    "I did, sir," Fred replied from his side.


    "The smile of greed," Dennis said with a small grin. "I like it. But don''t you think it''s odd? Max never used to be that way¡­ I wonder what happened to him."


    "I''m still looking into the matter, sir," Fred said with a bow. "But I have to agree¡ªMax has definitely changed. Whether it''s for better or worse¡­ only time will tell."


    Just outside the office, Max stretched his arms as he walked down the hallway. The meeting had been intense, but a lot had come out of it¡ªand honestly, he was still in disbelief over everything that had just happened.


    "Sir, I suggest we head straight to the garden," Aron said as he caught up beside him. "Many guests have already arrived, and even your family members are starting to join the event. There''s no need to return to the previous room."


    Max nodded and followed Aron without protest. Mostly because he had to¡ªhe had no clue where the garden was.


    And right now, Aron was the only person who seemed to be on his side¡­ but Max didn''t fully trust him either. He''d made that mistake before.


    "There were a few questions I wanted to ask back there," Max said, glancing over. "But it didn''t feel like the right moment."


    "This contest¡­ how long has it been going on?"


    "Actually, not very long at all," Aron replied. "It only started about a year ago."


    "Wait¡­ does that mean I''ve had access to the funds for a whole year already?" Max asked, a hint of concern in his voice.


    He couldn''t help but wonder¡ªhow much had the original Max already spent? He was just a teenage boy, after all. Probably treated himself a little¡­ fancy cars, flashy clothes. Honestly, Max knew he would''ve done the same at that age.


    No, that''s ridiculous, Max thought. Spending a billion in one year? You''d have to be a complete idiot to blow through that kind of money.


    "That is correct," Aron replied calmly.


    "Then¡­ can I ask you something?" Max said, turning to him. "How much is left?"


    "That," Aron said with a small smile, "you can check for yourself. Remember what I mentioned before¡ªyour phone has all the same apps you''ve used before. They''re already installed and linked to facial recognition. Only you can access them."


    Max immediately pulled out his phone. Sure enough, there were two banking apps on the home screen¡ªone blue, the other white.


    "The blue one is for your general expenses¡ªyour daily spending," Aron explained. "That''s the one you''ll want to check."


    Max quickly tapped the white icon and waited.


    How much of the billion is left? he wondered. Is it still enough to help me get my revenge?


    A moment later, the app logged in¡ªand the number appeared on the screen, staring back at him.


    "What is this¡­? How can this be?" Max muttered, eyes narrowing. "This doesn''t make any sense. Is this right?"


    He looked over at Aron, who remained completely unreadable.


    Max turned back to the screen and counted the digits again¡ªjust to be sure. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    1,000,000,000


    He hasn''t spent a single penny.


    But why?

 Chapter 10 - 10: A Birthday Party

    Eventually, Max made his way out to the birthday event taking place in the massive garden. Dozens of tables had been set up, each loaded with dishes of food, snacks, treats, and desserts. Waiters moved gracefully through the crowd, offering appetizers on silver trays.


    But no one was actually sitting down. Everyone was too busy talking, mingling, and networking.


    Standing near one of the tables, Max helped himself to some surprisingly delicious blueberry cupcakes, casually taking in the scene. Aron, as usual, remained close by his side.


    "I''ve seen so many business cards get exchanged, I''m starting to wonder if this is even a birthday party or just a full-on business convention," Max muttered.


    "There are plenty of people here hoping to get on the Stern family''s good side," Aron replied. "Some of the top companies in the world are attending this event. When your grandfather said it was a good place to make connections, he wasn''t joking."


    Max glanced around and recognized a few faces from TV¡ªwell-known CEOs who popped up in the news now and then. The industries represented here ranged from baby products to alcoholic beverages. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It really drove the point home: It''s not about what you know¡­ it''s about who you know.


    If you managed to get on the good side of any of these people, it was basically a head start in life.


    Speaking of head starts¡­ I still don''t get what the original Max was thinking, he thought. At his age, he had a billion dollars¡ªand didn''t spend a single cent? Did he just have no clue what to do with it? Or was it his way of stepping out of the race¡­ like he never wanted to be one of the heirs at all?


    Since Max himself wasn''t all that interested in competing for heir status, he didn''t feel the need to talk to any of these high-profile guests. He didn''t even know where to start. Negotiating with businessmen? That wasn''t his style. His way of dealing with people was probably very different from how these corporate types made deals.


    Still, he figured there was one thing he could enjoy¡ªfood.


    He started moving from table to table. No matter how much money he had¡ªpast life or present¡ªMax could never say no to free food. And these desserts? They were made by some of the best pastry chefs in the world.


    But just as he was making his way toward another table, he felt someone approaching fast from the side. Instinctively, Max shifted to avoid them¡ªnarrowly dodging a shoulder bump.


    Unfortunately, that wasn''t enough to stop the splash.


    He felt the cold liquid hit his chest. Looking down, Max saw his shirt now stained with deep red wine.


    "Oh, sorry. I must''ve tripped on some grass," a condescending voice said, followed by a slight chuckle.


    Max didn''t even need to look. He recognized the voice instantly.


    The guy wearing an open shirt, a bright white suit, and sunglasses¡ªdespite the fact it wasn''t even that sunny¡ªwas none other than his cousin, Chad.


    Did he seriously change outfits just for this? Max thought. And great¡­ my clothes are probably ruined now.


    "Red''s our lucky color, so let''s just call this a blessing, yeah?" Chad said, grinning as he placed a hand on Max''s shoulder.


    Max saw it coming and had to use every ounce of restraint not to grab Chad''s wrist and twist it. Instead, he forced a smile and watched as Chad walked off, laughing like he''d just made the best joke in the world.


    "Good thing this place has solid food," Max muttered to himself. "I need a drink after that."


    Did he say¡­ drink? Aron thought, slightly surprised. The young master''s never touched alcohol before.


    But before Max could reach the dessert table, someone else stepped into his path.


    This time, though, Max didn''t mind.


    She was stunning.


    A woman with a figure that would make runway models jealous, wearing a tight-fitting blue dress that hugged every curve.


    Her blonde hair fell straight down on either side of her face, framing it perfectly. There was an undeniable aura of elegance around her. The first thing she did was give Max a small, graceful bow.


    "It''s been a while," she said. "I thought you weren''t going to show up."


    But Max had no clue who she was. Not even a vague memory. And she definitely wasn''t in any of the files Aron had given him.


    "Seriously?" she said, frowning and folding her arms. "You''re not even going to ask how I''ve been?"


    She waited, but Max stayed silent, still trying to place her.


    "Nothing? You''ve got nothing to say to me?" she scoffed. "Ugh, forget it. I should''ve known. You''re just as pathetic as ever. You''ll never be anything¡ªno ambition, no drive. No wonder your life''s always been such a joke."


    She looked him up and down in disgust.


    "I thought maybe you''d changed, but I guess the only thing that''s different about you is your hair."


    With that, she turned and stormed off.


    Max stood there, completely stunned. He hadn''t even said a single word, and yet she''d gone off like he''d just ruined her day.


    When he turned to see where she''d gone, he spotted her chatting with Chad¡ªof course.


    The two of them were giggling together, and she was even pouring Chad a fresh drink like they were the best of friends.


    "Well, I should''ve guessed," Max muttered. "Someone acting like that would definitely be hanging around him."


    "That woman is Sheri Curts," Aron explained, stepping in smoothly. "Apologies¡ªI didn''t expect her to be here today. Her family owns a chain of milk tea shops, though they''ve been struggling lately due to heavy competition."


    "It seems several of their locations across different cities have shut down. But what''s more relevant to you¡­ is that you and Sheri were actually in an arranged marriage."


    Max nearly choked on the strawberry muffin he''d just bitten into.


    Wait, what?


    Wasn''t the body he was in supposed to be around seventeen? And he''d already been in an arranged marriage?


    Coughing hard, he smacked his chest a couple of times before finally washing the muffin down.


    "She''s my wife? Don''t you think that''s something you should''ve mentioned earlier?" Max said, still catching his breath. "And if she''s my wife, why is she all over sunglasses over there?"


    "Sunglasses?" Aron followed his gaze and immediately understood. "Ah. Well, like I said¡ªit was an arranged marriage. But a few months ago, her family called it off.


    "She''s been staying quite close to Chad ever since."


    "I think I get the picture," Max replied. "She''s a gold-digging opportunist, someone for the streets as we would say, is that what you''re trying to say? You could''ve just cut to the chase. She''s cozying up to Chad, hoping to get some cash to save her family''s business. And since everyone assumes I''m not getting any of the Stern family fortune, I guess I''m no use to her, right?"


    "Correct," Aron said with a nod. "The truth is, sir, you already have the funds to save her family if you wanted to. But the current competition for the Stern inheritance is kept strictly within the family. No one outside knows the amount of money you now have access to. That''s why, honestly¡­ I agree with your assessment."


    Max paused, chewing on the thought.


    So why didn''t the original Max help her?


    He''d had the money for a year now. If what Aron said was true, even a few million could''ve made a huge difference for her failing business.


    It left Max with more questions than answers. Maybe the old Max saw Sheri''s true colors long before she came begging for help. Maybe he''d known exactly what kind of person she was.


    Just as I thought¡­ this rich family life really isn''t for me, Max sighed.


    Feeling a little sick of all the sugar, he decided it was time for something savory.


    His eyes scanned the area like a hawk¡ªuntil he spotted his next target on the food table.


    Just as Max was about to march over to the food table, he caught a bit of conversation as he passed by.


    "Has there been any problems?" a voice asked.


    "Everything''s been going perfectly fine, you don''t have to worry," another replied.


    Instantly, Max froze mid-step.


    His eyes widened. His heart began pounding in his chest.


    That voice¡­ I recognize that voice.


    It''s from my old life. Someone from the White Tiger.


    Someone from the group I created, but why are they here?

 Chapter 11 - 11: The Infamous Cubs

    Max didn''t even need to turn around. Just hearing the voice was enough. He recognized it instantly¡ªnot just as someone from the White Tiger Gang, but as one of the Cubs.


    The Cubs were a nickname given to the individuals closest to Maxamus, back when he was the leader of the gang.


    As the White Tiger expanded, growing larger and spreading their underground influence far and wide, Max had needed strong leaders to manage operations in different territories. It wasn''t enough for people to fear him¡ªthey had to fear those under him too. That''s why he gave his inner circle the name "Cubs."


    Some of them had been with him from the very beginning, helping build the gang from the ground up. Others had earned their way in by proving their strength and loyalty. Either way, every Cub was a skilled fighter with serious influence and control.


    But what''s one of the Cubs doing at an event like this? Max wondered. As far as I know, we never had any connection with the Stern family. I was hands-on with all our operations, and the Cubs always reported directly to me.


    It''s only been three days¡­ what''s even happened to the White Tigers since I''ve been gone? Has a new leader already taken over?


    Still, Max turned around¡ªand the moment he matched the voice to the face, he knew exactly who it was.


    Two men stood talking in suits. One was dressed sharply in full business attire, tie perfectly straight. The other had a more casual look, wearing a grey suit with a plain white shirt underneath, the top buttons undone.


    The second man was smaller in build, with a noticeable scar on his chin. His hair was spiked and styled forward, a trick Max immediately recognized. It was done to hide the fact that he was balding.


    Skinny Kete¡­ Max mouthed silently.


    A flood of memories rushed in all at once.


    Back then, Max had already been an adult when the gang started¡ªthough he didn''t even realize it was going to be a gang at first. Skinny Kete was one of the first people to join him on that path. Together, they built the foundation of the White Tiger Gang. He was one of the few people Max had truly trusted.


    If I told him who I am¡­ if I proved it by telling him something only the two of us would know¡­ he''d believe me, right?


    He wouldn''t think I''m crazy. And maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªwe could rebuild the White Tigers together. With this new fortune¡­ who knows how far we could go.


    Max had already started taking a few steps forward¡ªbut then a particular sentence echoed in his mind.


    "It''s not gangs that rule this city. It''s money."


    What am I thinking? Max froze. I was betrayed by someone in the White Tigers. That''s how this all started.


    Back then, his mind had been too foggy to recognize the voice or the face. It could''ve been anyone. Sure, Skinny Kete had once been close to him¡ªbut so had every one of the Cubs.


    Any one of them could''ve been behind it.


    I can''t tell anyone who I really am¡ªnot until I figure out who sold me out.


    Just the fact that Kete was even here was suspicious enough.


    Turning away, Max made the decision to walk off. He couldn''t hang around, not right now.


    If he had one major flaw, it was his temper. And he knew¡ªif he overheard something, if he let himself stew in it too long¡ªhe might just end up slamming Kete''s head into a table, demanding answers.


    Right then, someone bumped into him hard.


    The impact hit one of the bruises still hidden under his clothes, and Max winced sharply, clenching his jaw against the pain.


    "Ow!" Max couldn''t help but yell out.


    His outburst immediately drew the attention of nearby guests, all turning to look at the commotion.


    "Relax. Don''t exaggerate," a smug voice said. "I only bumped into you a little by accident."


    Of course.


    It was Chad¡ªagain. This time, he''d managed to smear a jam scone down Max''s shirt, making the already ruined clothes look even worse.


    Seriously? Sticky jam?


    Max touched the fabric and instantly regretted it¡ªhis fingers now clung to the mess on his shirt.


    "Are you trying to make me look like the bad guy?" Chad said, his tone dripping with fake innocence. "It was just an accident. Don''t turn this into something bigger than it is, okay?"


    He leaned in slightly. "Especially not on Grandfather''s birthday, in front of all these important guests. And, uh¡­ you might wanna go get changed. You look like a disaster."


    Max started breathing slowly¡ªdeeply¡ªin through his nose, out through his mouth.


    He couldn''t remember the last time he''d taken this much disrespect without snapping.


    His vision narrowed, everything else fading except Chad. He didn''t even notice the stares anymore¡­ or the quiet laughter from the other family members watching nearby.


    It''s obvious now¡ªChad''s doing all of this on purpose. I''m the target.


    Did the old Max never fight back? Is this really the personality I''m supposed to keep up? Because if it is¡­ I don''t know if I can survive another five minutes around this guy.


    Thankfully, Aron stepped in. He gave Max a very specific look¡ªone that clearly said: Let it go.


    Max clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose. Fine. He''d let it go. For now.


    He turned, ready to head back inside. Honestly, if he could leave this place entirely, he would.


    But just then, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes passed by.


    At that exact moment, Chad casually stepped forward¡ªand deliberately landed on the heel of the waiter''s shoe.


    The man stumbled, and the entire tray went flying.


    Six full glasses of champagne launched into the air¡ªcrashing into Max from behind.


    The cold liquid soaked him from head to toe. His hair dripped, the back of his suit clung to him, completely drenched.


    Gasps echoed, followed by bursts of laughter from the nearby guests.


    "Haha! When I told you to clean yourself up, I didn''t mean like that," Chad joked, grinning like he''d just delivered the punchline of the year.


    More laughter followed¡ªlouder this time.


    Max turned around, a wide smile stretching across his face¡ªso wide that his eyes were nearly hidden beneath it. His pace quickened as he walked forward, fists clenched tight.


    People like you¡­ you''ve never been punched a day in your life.


    He swung. A fist, fast and furious, aimed straight for Chad''s smug face.


    Chad flinched¡ªcompletely caught off guard¡ªbut the punch never landed.


    His wrist was caught mid-air. The one holding it? Aron.


    "Doing this won''t help you," Aron whispered. "I''m stopping you for your own good. I''m trying to protect you." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Did¡­ did you just try to hit me?" Chad asked, stunned. "Have you lost your mind? What''s gotten into you? You''re acting like some kind of rabid dog."


    "You''re right," Max said calmly, letting the tension drain from his hand.


    Aron felt the shift and, after a brief pause, released his grip. The moment Max''s wrist was free, he brought up his other hand, and drove his fist hard into the side of Chad''s face.


    The blow sent him crashing to the ground.


    Max stood over him. "But I don''t need you to protect me."

 Chapter 12 - 12: Stupid Loyality

    Suddenly, Chad''s world felt a lot smaller. His view had dropped to knee-level with the other guests, and a sharp stinging sensation pulsed through the right side of his face, numb and burning all at once.


    Then came the faint taste of iron on his tongue.


    Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand to the side of his face where Max''s punch had landed. The pain, the shock¡­ all of it.


    It was the first time in his life he''d ever been hit.


    "M-My glasses¡­ where are my sunglasses?" Chad muttered, scrambling awkwardly on the ground until he spotted them. He grabbed them and hurriedly put them back on, trying to hide his embarrassment.


    Then he looked up. Right at Max.


    "What just happened? I¡­ I don''t understand. Did Max really just hit me?"


    Max smiled faintly as he looked down at him.


    "Did I hit him so hard his brain rebooted?" he muttered. "Guy looks like he can''t even remember where he is."


    The moment Max''s fist had connected with Chad''s face, a wave of gasps had rippled through the crowd.


    Some guests had seen the punch firsthand, and now the entire party was turning, every head swiveling to stare at Chad, crumpled on the floor.


    Of the two men watching, both recognized Chad immediately. He was a regular at events like this, and with how talkative he was, he''d made sure everyone knew who he was.


    "Isn''t that a member of the Stern family? One of the heirs, right?"


    "Yeah. Looks like he had a falling out with someone... but who? Who''s the other guy?"


    "I''m not sure. He looks young¡ªlike, still in high school. And what''s up with his clothes?"


    "Didn''t you see what happened earlier?"


    In this particular situation, not many people actually knew who Max Stern was. As the youngest heir, he barely drew attention. Hardly anyone believed he''d be the one to inherit the Stern family business, and no one outside the inner circle knew about the secret competition happening between the heirs.


    "Do you know who the younger one is?" Kete asked, eyes fixed on the scene.


    "Ah¡­ yes, I believe I do," the man in the business suit beside him replied. "That''s Max Stern¡ªhe''s one of the youngest members of the family."


    "So¡­ an internal conflict. And right in the middle of the party," Kete muttered, eyes narrowing. "Interesting."


    Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement, someone stomping through the crowd with heavy, purposeful steps.


    "And I have a feeling," Kete added, "this is about to get worse."


    "My boy, what did you do to my boy?!" Karen shouted, storming through the crowd.


    Karen was a well-known figure among the guests. As one of the older heirs of the Stern family, she had a reputation. She ran a few fashion brands she''d tried to build from the ground up, and she''d worked with several of the people attending the party.


    She rushed straight to Chad, inspecting his swollen, red cheek, and the moment she saw the damage, rage began to boil behind her eyes.


    "How dare you, how dare you lay a filthy hand on my son!" Karen screamed as she turned toward Max.


    Before anyone could react, she marched right up to him, her hand already raised.


    SMACK!


    The slap echoed through the suddenly silent garden.


    Should''ve seen that one coming, Max thought dryly.


    But before the thought even finished in his head¡ª


    SMACK!


    She struck the other cheek.


    "You''re lucky to even be part of this family," Karen hissed. "After everything Chad has done for you¡­ after he looked after you when your parents died¡­ this is how you repay us?"


    Her voice rose higher, raw with fury.


    "You make me sick. Sick! Sick!"


    She raised her hand again, for the third time.


    Unfortunately for you, Max thought, in the world I come from, men and women are treated the same. I''ve seen far too many people in the underworld disappear because they underestimated a woman.


    His fist began to clench again as he saw Karen''s hand rise into the air, until someone stepped between them.


    Aron.


    "What are you doing, Aron? Why are you standing in my way? Move!" Karen shouted, her voice sharp with fury.


    "It is my duty to protect the young master," Aron said calmly. "And that''s exactly what I''m doing."


    "If you don''t move, I''ll hit you too! I''m warning you!" she snapped, her rage showing no signs of fading.


    But Aron didn''t flinch. He didn''t move. He stood his ground in silence.


    With a glare, Karen raised her hand and slapped him across the face, just as hard as she had slapped Max.


    Aron''s head jerked slightly, but he didn''t budge.


    "You damned dog!" Karen screamed. "You''re not even part of this family¡ªwe hired you! So MOVE! MOVE!"


    She launched into a frenzy, slapping him again and again, her long, sharp nails raking across his face.


    Scratch marks began to appear, and soon, blood dripped from his nose.


    "What are you doing? Get out of the way," Max said, trying to move past him.


    But Aron shifted, planting himself even more firmly between Max and Karen.


    "I told you," he said calmly, "it''s my job to protect you. My duty is to make sure you don''t get hurt¡­ and lately, I''ve failed too many times."


    He kept his eyes forward, unwavering.


    "But I''m just a guard of the Stern family," he continued. "This is all I can do. The only way I can protect you."


    Karen''s slaps continued, her rage building with each swing. She wound her arm back and struck Aron hard across the face again.


    He didn''t move. He didn''t react. He just stood there, absorbing every hit without retaliation.


    This is insane, Max thought. Why is no one saying anything? Why isn''t anyone stepping in?


    His eyes drifted to Chad¡ªwho was watching it all unfold with a smug smile.


    He was mouthing the words: This is what you deserve.


    This damned family, Max thought, fury burning in his chest. Their stupid rules, their fake image of loyalty¡­ Why are you so loyal, Aron? Just move. Let me hit her!


    Karen''s hand was raw now, red from slapping too much. Aron''s face had swelled visibly, his right eye starting to droop slightly from the bruising.


    And still, he stood there.


    "You fool! You fool!" Karen shouted, her voice shaking with rage.


    She stormed over to a nearby guest and yanked the walking stick right out of their hand.


    "You really want to do this? Right here, in front of everyone?" she yelled, marching back toward Max, stick raised.


    That''s it. I''ve had enough!


    Max tensed, ready to use all his strength to shove Aron aside and put an end to this himself.


    But then¡ª


    "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The voice boomed across the garden like thunder, silencing the entire crowd.


    Everyone turned to look.


    Standing there, commanding the attention of the entire party, was Dennis Stern.

 Chapter 13 - 13: Future Of The Stern Family

    It was expected that the man whose birthday they were celebrating would eventually make an appearance¡ªeveryone had been prepared to offer their praise, present their gifts, and show respect to one of the most powerful men in the world.


    But instead of entering to applause and admiration, Dennis Stern walked straight into chaos.


    All attention had been pulled away from the celebration and toward one specific scene¡ªand now, the man of the hour had arrived to witness the mess firsthand.


    "Father!" Karen gasped.


    Her hands were trembling as she immediately dropped the walking stick she''d been holding. She lowered her head, staring at the ground, too shaken to even think about picking it up.


    "Of all days¡­ this is the one you choose to cause a scene?" Dennis said, his voice cold and controlled. "You''re disrupting a celebration¡ªmy birthday.


    "You all better have a damn good explanation for what I''m seeing right now."


    His eyes moved slowly, taking in the full picture¡ª


    Aron, bloodied and bruised.


    Karen, visibly shaken.


    Chad, back on his feet, face swollen and red.


    And then there was Max.


    Of all people¡­ Dennis hadn''t expected him to be in the middle of it all.


    "Grandfather!" Chad called out, lifting his head.


    "I''m so sorry for everything that''s happened. Please, let me explain. One of the waiters accidentally spilled champagne all over Max, and I guess it must''ve pushed him over the edge.


    "For some reason, he thought I was behind it¡ªand out of nowhere, he just punched me right in the face.


    "My mother, of course, couldn''t let that slide, so she stepped in to put him in his place. Then Aron got involved, and things just spiraled out of control.


    "All of this¡ªeverything you''re seeing¡ªit all started because Max lost his mind."


    From the crowd''s perspective, Chad''s version of the story made a lot of sense.


    No one had seen him deliberately trip the waiter. And they definitely hadn''t witnessed the two times earlier when Chad purposely bumped into Max.


    And since hardly anyone even knew Max was a Stern¡ªor knew his name, for that matter¡ªhe figured they probably didn''t have a clue there was an inheritance competition happening behind the scenes.


    Dennis didn''t say a word at first. He simply walked forward, slow and deliberate, stopping right in front of Max.


    He stared him straight in the eye.


    "Why haven''t you said anything?" he asked. "Are you not going to defend yourself?"


    "Defend myself?" Max repeated, his voice calm but unwavering. "Yeah, I hit him. That part''s true. But does the reasonreally matter? Why should I explain myself?"


    "I did what I did¡ªbecause I chose to. I''m fully aware my actions come with consequences. But I take responsibility for them. I control my own body, my own choices. And even if you were standing in front of me when it happened... I''d do it again."


    Dennis lowered his gaze to the ground.


    Some guests thought it was because he was trying to contain his fury. Others assumed it was disappointment¡ªhead bowed in shame over his family turning a birthday party into a battleground.


    But in truth, he was hiding a grin.


    I don''t know what happened to you, Max Stern¡­ but this fire in you? I like it.


    So many of my children and grandchildren come running to me, begging to fix their problems, asking me to play judge in the middle of their messes. But you... you didn''t flinch. You took a stand.


    You were never a fighter before¡ªbut now, maybe¡­ you''re the first real fighter in the Stern family.


    Dennis suddenly lifted his arms, his voice booming.


    "Let''s not let this little drama ruin a grand celebration!" he declared. "It''s a birthday¡ªwe celebrate.


    "As for the rest of you, clean up this mess... and pretend like none of it ever happened."


    Karen and Chad looked furious¡ªbut there was nothing they could do. A decision had been made, and in front of all these guests, defiance wasn''t an option.


    So, with forced bows and bitter expressions, they turned and walked away, rejoining the party as if nothing had happened.


    "Aron, go patch yourself up," Dennis said. "And Max¡ªgo change your clothes. You look like you fell into a fountain."


    He paused, then added with a subtle smile, "I hope we get to see more of each other, Max. You seem to be maturing a bit¡­ now that you''ve grown older."


    With that, Dennis walked off, and Max and Aron made their way back toward the house.


    I figured as much, Max thought. Dennis carries himself like a mob boss¡ªcontrolled, powerful. There''s a line you don''t cross, and he makes sure you know it. But out of everyone in this family... I think I understand him better than the rest.


    Because I''ve built an empire before too.


    Glancing to his right, Max noticed Aron walking beside him, two rolled-up tissues stuffed in his nose to stop the bleeding. Max shook his head, thinking back on everything that had just happened.


    "I don''t know how much they''re paying you to protect me," Max said. "But I know one thing¡ªit''s not enough."


    He paused.


    "And¡­ I don''t fully agree with what you did, but... thank you."


    Max walked a little faster, heading inside.


    He didn''t see it¡ªbut for the first time, the ever-stern Aron had a small smile on his face.


    The party for his grandfather continued on, and eventually, Max and Aron returned¡ªnow dressed in clean clothes.


    Not a single guest approached them after the earlier incident, and honestly, Max preferred it that way. It gave him space to enjoy the food in peace, and more importantly, to think.


    He needed to figure out his next move. How to navigate this family. How to recover from what had just happened. But before anything else¡­


    Max needed to understand what it truly meant to live as a Stern.


    And more importantly¡ªwhat kind of life Max Stern had been living before he showed up in this body.


    Once the party came to a close, Max and Aron left the estate quietly. But for others, the evening was far from over.


    Back inside the manor, Dennis Stern was seated in a meeting room surrounded by several board members¡ªeach one spaced out around a long polished table. Judging by the atmosphere, they were in the middle of discussing something serious.


    "You''re spineless. All of you¡ªspineless!" Dennis roared, slamming his hand on the table.


    "Not one of you can make a real decision. None of you can think outside the box! You all give me the same lazy answers¡ªcut employees, buy out competitors before they grow."


    He looked around the room, disappointment burning in his eyes.


    "If any of you were in my seat, the Stern Empire would''ve crumbled long ago."


    Dennis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand across his face. He could see the nervous expressions on the executives seated around the table¡ªeach one avoiding eye contact, waiting for the tension to pass.


    Why can''t I stop thinking about what Max said today? Dennis thought. Why couldn''t just one of these men be like him?


    But Max... he''s still too young. And he hasn''t done anything yet¡ªnot really. He hasn''t even touched a single penny of the money I gave him. He''s not ready.


    "I''ve had enough of all of you. Go home for the day," Dennis said, waving them off with a tired voice.


    The executives didn''t hesitate. They stood up quickly, shuffling out of the room one by one.


    "You should''ve rested," Fred said gently, staying behind. "Like you said¡ªit''s a celebration today." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s just another day," Dennis replied, voice low. "There''s no difference between today and any other.


    "The only difference¡­ is that I''m running out of time."


    Just then, there was a knock at the large double doors.


    Fred walked over and cracked one open, exchanging a few quiet greetings with whoever was on the other side.


    He turned back to Dennis.


    "Sir¡­ the representative from the White Tiger is here to see you."

 Chapter 14 - 14: The Life Of The Rich?

    With the party finally over and the night sky stretching overhead, Max found himself back in the same car they''d arrived in. Aron was behind the wheel, driving them toward Notting Hill City¡ªa place that stirred some very recent memories for Max.


    The White Tiger Gang was rooted in Mancur City, Max thought. But the last deal I was called to make before everything went sideways? That happened right here¡­ in Notting Hill. And now this Max kid just so happens to live here.


    Maybe it''s fate. Maybe it''s just irony. Either way, it''s not a bad place for a fresh start.


    It had been a long day. A day full of surprises, tension, and things he never expected to face.


    I used to think rich kids had it easy, Max mused. But now I see that''s not even close to the truth. When I was his age, my biggest problems were finding enough money to eat¡­ or getting a girlfriend.


    This kid doesn''t have to worry about money¡ªbut he''s got a whole different kind of mess to deal with.


    Even so, after experiencing the worst part of being in the body of a rich kid, Max figured he was due to experience some of the perks. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The car rolled to a stop and Max looked out the window.


    The neighborhood looked rough¡ªreally rough.


    The streets were covered in graffiti, trash lined the sidewalks like it had been there for days, maybe weeks. As for houses¡ªthere weren''t any. Just low-rise apartment blocks, no taller than three floors.


    The buildings were crammed tightly together, leaving barely any space between them. The area looked small, boxed in, and worn down.


    "Do you need to use the bathroom or something?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "No, young master," Aron replied. "We''re here. This is your apartment¡ªthe place you''ve been living in for the past year."


    Max blinked. "This... this is where I live?"


    He stepped out of the car, getting a better look at the full picture.


    It wasn''t that he had a problem with it. In fact, the place reminded him of his old life. Before he built his empire, Max had grown up in a neighborhood not too different from this.


    It wasn''t the area itself that shocked him.


    It was the fact that someone from the Stern family¡ªwith billions at their fingertips¡ªwas living here.


    Aron led the way, guiding Max up to the second floor. They passed five other doors before stopping at the last one at the end of the walkway.


    Aron pulled out a key and unlocked the door, then handed it over to Max as they stepped inside. It was just as dull inside as it looked from the outside, maybe 30 square meters, if that.


    A single bed barely big enough for an adult. A cramped space with a small TV and a cheap-looking table. The kitchen was more like a corner, just enough room to turn around, but not actually move in. And the bathroom? Not far at all.


    Still, Max had to admit, at least he wasn''t sharing the place with anyone. That was something.


    But that didn''t mean he didn''t have questions.


    Seriously, what was this kid thinking? Max thought, scanning the tiny room. You had access to a billion for a year, and you didn''t even bother upgrading to a decent apartment?


    The more I learn about this guy, the more I want to punch him myself.


    "The apartment rent comes out of your allowance account," Aron explained, stepping in behind him. "Your daily necessities, bills and such, are all paid automatically. So your total funds haven''t gone down because of any of this."


    "Wait, how much even is my allowance?" Max asked, pulling out his phone.


    He tapped on the banking app he hadn''t opened yet and scrolled through the statements. The numbers looked¡­ odd. Like something wasn''t adding up.


    "The allowance system is set up to automatically return any unused funds," Aron added. "So the balance resets each month. It doesn''t build up."


    Now it all made sense. Max finally understood.


    His monthly allowance was $20,000.


    "Twenty thousand¡­ and he still rented a place like this?" Max muttered. "I mean, I rented a place like this. What is wrong with me?"


    He felt like he was losing it.


    Every choice the kid had made just confused him more. Nothing added up. How was he supposed to live this life like it was his own, when none of it made any sense?


    Sooner or later, someone was bound to notice that he wasn''t the real Max.


    "You moved here after your parents passed away," Aron said quietly. "It happened last year. You were sixteen at the time. Your grandfather gave you a choice, and you chose to live on your own. You chose this place."


    "I don''t know the reasons behind it¡­ but if I may say, perhaps losing your memories is a blessing in disguise. Maybe now, you can live a new life. A better one."


    Aron gave a respectful bow.


    Right¡­ he lost both his parents, Max thought, his chest tightening for just a second. At least I know what that feels like.


    "My duties are finished for today," Aron said. "I''ll take my leave now. I hope you enjoy your day tomorrow."


    Max nodded, waving him off.


    Honestly, he was surprised Aron didn''t just sleep on the floor beside him, the way he''d been acting all day.


    Still, out of everyone Max had met so far, Aron might''ve been the one person he could almost let his guard down around.


    "Thanks again," Max said. "So¡­ when will I see you next? Tomorrow morning?"


    "Oh, that''s right," Aron said. "I''m the head of your security team, but I wasn''t always the only one. In the past, there were others who watched over you, even at night, stationed just outside this apartment."


    He paused for a moment before continuing.


    "But¡­ you instructed me to dismiss all personnel. You didn''t want anyone guarding you. I followed that order¡ªbut I insisted on one condition."


    Aron stood straighter.


    "That I would personally watch over you on weekends. Today is Sunday, which means¡­ my duty ends here."


    He gave a small bow. "Still, if you need me, I''m just a phone call away. I''ll be there as fast as possible."


    He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Oh¡ªand one more thing."


    He tapped the screen, sending something over. A notification popped up on Max''s phone.


    ''Stalker'' had sent him a message.


    Max raised an eyebrow. Well¡­ at least the kid had a sense of humor. Opening the message, he saw a photo¡ªsome kind of schedule.


    "Please follow it carefully," Aron said. "And I hope you enjoy your day at school tomorrow."


    Max froze.


    "Right¡­" he replied, lips twitching into a nervous half-smile.


    I forgot¡­ this kid is seventeen. Which means¡­


    I have to go back to high school.

 Chapter 15 - 15: A Small Gift

    High school had been both the best and worst time in Max''s life, depending on how one looked at it.


    Starting with the worst: he was never the kind of guy who could sit down and study. Books? Notes? Long paragraphs of boring information? None of it ever stuck.


    But ask him about his favorite comics or TV shows, and he could recite every single detail without missing a beat.


    If only that laser focus had applied to schoolwork, he probably would''ve been top of his class without breaking a sweat.


    So no¡ªjust because he had barely graduated high school over ten years ago didn''t mean he was about to start crushing tests and coasting through with ease this time around.


    Now for the good memories?


    Those were all about his fists.


    Back in the day, Max had made a name for himself fast. Not long after starting school, he beat the toughest guy in his class. Then the strongest in his year. And after that? The top dog in the whole school.


    There wasn''t a single student who didn''t know the name Maxamus.


    Eventually, he even started challenging fighters from other schools in the area¡ªand by the end of it all, he was the undisputed top dog across the city.


    There were rumors that Max had once taken on fifty people¡ªat the same time¡ªand walked away the victor.


    It sounded insane.


    But the story spread like wildfire through the city, becoming a legend.


    They weren''t rumors, Max thought with a smirk. But it''s probably a good thing no one remembers what happened afterward¡­ I spent weeks in the hospital.


    When he thought about the best days of his life, most of them didn''t actually happen in school. They were the moments outside of it, the people he met, the crew he built, the glory days that followed.


    There wasn''t much he missed about actual high school.


    Which made it even more frustrating that he had to start all over again.


    Those rough days¡­ they''re the reason I got pulled into the gang life in the first place. And where did that lead? Dead before I even hit fifty.


    Back in his small apartment, Max rummaged through the limited wardrobe, looking for something to wear. The suit he''d worn to the event was way too formal, he needed something way more low-key.


    As he changed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.


    His eyes scanned the marks still fading on his skin¡­ and the overall frailness of this new body.


    You definitely looked like the study-all-day type, Max thought, frowning. One thing''s for sure, you didn''t do sports. So if you were a good student, and now I start failing every class¡­ what''s going to happen then?


    All the thinking was starting to drive Max crazy, he was nearly pulling his hair out.


    Back in his old life, whenever his head got too cluttered, he had one solution: work out.


    Strong body, strong mind. That''s how he made decisions. But this body?


    This body was weak.


    Unable to sit still any longer, and tired of feeling boxed in by the cramped apartment, Max threw on some looser clothes, mostly sportswear, thankfully still in the closet, and headed out.


    The night sky was out, the streets dimly lit. It was around 9:00 PM. Not too late by his standards.


    Then again¡­ he had to remember.


    He had school tomorrow.


    As he walked through the quiet neighborhood, his mind churned through the situation again.


    What am I supposed to do? he thought. Right now, I''ve got a weak body¡­ but a whole lot of money. And I need to find out who in the White Tigers betrayed me.


    Could I just¡­ use the money to hire another gang? Bring in muscle to help me get answers?


    He could already picture it.


    This version of him walking into some rough territory, trying to throw his weight around¡ª


    And immediately getting mugged, beaten, or worse¡ªbefore he even made it to the door.


    Maybe Aron could arrange a meeting with someone, but that would raise all kinds of red flags.


    Money''s a powerful tool in the underworld, Max thought. But without strength of my own, I''ll just end up being used. Money can''t fix everything.


    That thought led him to a decision.


    Pulling out his phone, he opened the map app and typed one word: GYM.


    Only one around here, he noted. Looks like it''s a boxing gym, not a full fitness center. But places like that usually have enough equipment for what I need.


    I''ve got to get this body back into fighting shape. If there''s one good thing about all this¡­ I''ve got my youth back. Time to make it count.


    The gym was just a ten-minute walk from his apartment, and according to the app, it was still open.


    Most gyms in the city either ran 24 hours or stayed open late, especially in bigger areas, so it wasn''t surprising.


    As Max made his way through the streets, he noticed how quiet it was.


    This wasn''t exactly a lively or upscale part of the city. Fewer people, dimmer lights, and an overall sense of "keep to yourself."


    Eventually, he turned onto a side street where the gym was supposed to be¡ª


    Just in time to see a man pulling down a metal shutter.


    The gym was closing.


    Max stopped just as the metal shutter clanged down, his eyes drifting up to the faded sign above the building.


    "Strong Boxing Gym."


    He took a step forward.


    "Hey¡ªI really don''t wanna be that guy," Max said, trying to sound casual, "but are you closing already? The map said you''re open till midnight. Isn''t that still a couple hours away?"


    The man in front of him looked solid¡ªbroad shoulders, thick arms, the kind of build that came from years of hard work. He was wearing a blue tracksuit, though it looked worn down, like it had seen better days... and might be the only one he owned.


    His beard was scruffy, covering most of his face, and messy enough that if Max had passed him on the street, he might''ve assumed he was homeless.


    "Unfortunately, kid," the man said with a sigh, "as of today¡­ I''m closing this place down."


    "Closing it?" Max raised his eyebrows. "But this is the only gym within two miles of here! What am I supposed to do now?"


    The man gave a tired chuckle and gestured down the street.


    "Look around. You see anyone walking these sidewalks? Any customers lining up to train?" He shook his head.


    "I''ve got bills to pay. Equipment upkeep, rent, groceries¡­ all of it. I can''t keep this place open out of the kindness of my heart. If it''s not making money, it has to go."


    He sighed again, this time with a hint of frustration.


    "Everyone told me I was crazy for opening a gym here. Turns out, they were right."


    For now, Max knew he couldn''t afford to draw too much attention to himself¡ªnot from Aron, and definitely not from the Stern family.


    That meant no sudden moves. No flashy changes.


    Sure, he could easily buy workout equipment, rent the building, or even purchase the entire property if he wanted. But doing any of that would raise questions. And the last thing he needed right now was Dennis Stern watching him too closely.


    So what do I do? Max thought, glancing around.


    The man looked like he was ready to call it a night and head home, shoulders slumped in defeat. As Max scanned the front of the building, he noticed a small QR code posted near the door¡ªprobably the payment link for drop-in lessons.


    He pulled out his phone. A soft beep sounded as he scanned it. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If I were to pay you," Max asked, "how much would it take per month to keep this place open?"


    The man stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face Max.


    Some high school kid, he thought, eyeing Max. Probably wants to get stronger so he can fight off some school bullies or impress a girl. But I can''t entertain this.


    He sighed, not wanting to give the kid false hope¡ªhe remembered what that felt like when he first opened the place.


    "It''s not cheap," he said, voice gruff. "Rent, insurance, maintenance, all sorts of stuff. I dunno¡­ maybe if you paid ten grand a month, I could keep it running."


    It was a number he tossed out casually¡ªdeliberately too high. He didn''t expect the kid to say yes. In fact, he was hoping he wouldn''t.


    He''d opened the gym with hope¡ªhope that it could help kids like him, back when he was younger. Give them a place to focus. A place to grow.


    But hope didn''t pay the bills.


    As he turned to walk away, his phone buzzed.


    [Ding!]


    He pulled it out, casually checking the screen¡ª


    And then froze.


    A sharp pang hit his chest as he stared at the notification.


    [You have received $10,000 USD.]

 Chapter 16 - 16: Play Me

    The man known as Stevan Strong was thirty-five years old¡ªa guy who''d once chased a dream of opening his own boxing gym.


    He had spent years fighting professionally, not as a champion, but as a skilled journeyman. He was the kind of fighter they called in when a rising star needed someone solid to go up against. Someone who could take a hit, go the rounds, and make the other guy look good.


    That was Stevan''s role¡ªuntil it all came to a stop.


    A semi-detached retina in one eye ended his career for good.


    But truthfully, Stevan had always known he wasn''t destined to be a world champion. He didn''t have the hype, the backing, or the flash. So when the injury happened, it didn''t break him.


    He had a plan.


    With the little money he''d managed to save, he set out to build something real. A place of his own.


    A gym.


    The truth about boxing¡ªat least for those not sitting at the top¡ªit didn''t pay big. Most fighters barely made enough to get by. So Stevan couldn''t afford a fancy location downtown or a flashy setup with neon signs.


    Instead, he opened his gym on the outskirts of the city, in a neighborhood most people didn''t look twice at.


    It was a rough neighborhood¡ªbut that never bothered Stevan.


    In fact, that''s why he chose it.


    He believed that with all the troubled kids in the area, most from different schools, a lot of that pent-up energy could be channeled into something better. Something real.


    He wanted to get them off the streets and into the ring.


    So he chased the dream.


    He saved what he could, bought some weight training equipment, laid out mats for drills, stocked boxing gloves and pads, even managed to install a ring and a few heavy bags.


    It wasn''t a huge space¡ªbut it was his. And Stevan was proud of it. For a while, it felt like things might actually work out. But life had other plans.


    Nearly a year later, he found himself standing at the edge of failure, ready to shut the place down for good¡ªuntil about thirty minutes ago.


    Now, he was back behind the reception desk, tapping his fingers against the counter, casually keeping an eye on his one customer. Every so often, he glanced at his phone¡­ just to make sure he wasn''t dreaming.


    I still can''t believe it¡­ he thought, staring at the screen. The kid actually sent me 10K. I just threw out a random number to get him to leave me alone¡ªand now it''s sitting in my account.


    Honestly¡­ it''s more than enough to cover this month''s rent. It even gives me a little room to breathe.


    Still¡­ I''ve racked up a lot of debt just trying to keep this place alive. I''ll need to pay all that off too¡­


    And I have no clue if this was a one-time thing. Is that kid really gonna come back every month and drop that kind of money?


    No one in their right mind would do that¡­ right?


    Stevan''s eyes stayed on Max, quietly observing from behind the desk.


    He watched as Max moved from one piece of equipment to the next.


    The kid had started off with a slow jog, warming up for a solid fifteen minutes. Then he moved on to stretches¡ªbasic, but clean form. After that, he hit the weights.


    Stevan had been ready to step in and offer a few beginner tips once he snapped out of his daze. But to his surprise, Max didn''t seem to need any.


    He handled everything with solid technique.


    It was weird¡ªbecause Max looked like someone who hadn''t trained a day in his life.


    Frail frame. No muscle definition. No signs of someone used to lifting or fighting.


    And yet¡­ he moved like someone who''d done this a hundred times before.


    Still, Stevan thought, arms folded, what I really don''t get is¡ªhow does someone like him have that kind of money?


    Where''d he even get it? He doesn''t look like he''s from a rich family. And if he was, why would he be living around here?


    The more Stevan thought about it, the worse he started to feel. A part of him couldn''t shake the guilt¡ªlike he was taking advantage of the kid.


    But then he glanced at his phone again¡­Message after message from debt collectors. And just like that, he buried those guilty feelings deep down.


    People with real money don''t like you poking around in their business, Stevan reminded himself. So I won''t ask questions. I''ll just keep things the way they are.


    Meanwhile, Max was getting back into the groove of working out.


    Well¡­ sort of.


    He didn''t hate it. But he definitely didn''t love having to start from scratch. All those years of building strength, conditioning, speed¡ªit was gone. This new body? Weak. Sluggish.


    Every time he pushed it, he could feel how much it lacked. And he already knew¡­ he was going to be seriously sore in the morning.


    Still, Max thought, glancing around, this gym is close to home, and no one else is here. That''s perfect.


    He mentally ran the numbers.


    Rent, food, basic stuff¡ªit barely hits 2K a month. I''ve been watching my allowance app; most of it keeps getting refunded because I don''t spend any of it.


    Putting 10K into this gym each month? Not a big deal.


    Dennis isn''t likely to question where my allowance is going anyway. As long as I stay under the radar¡­ he''ll keep his eyes off me.


    Eventually, Max called it a night.


    He knew better than to push his body too far¡ªespecially on day one. If he overdid it, he''d be stuck in bed tomorrow, and that wasn''t an option.


    Besides, it was getting late.


    As he headed for the exit, he paused by the front desk, turning to Stevan.


    "Keep the gym open every night," Max said. "I''ll transfer the payment on the fifth of each month. And since I''m the only one coming in, you can open and close it whenever you want¡ªjust keep it clear. I''ll message you before I show up. That cool with you?"


    Stevan practically lit up. He started rubbing his hands together like he''d just hit the jackpot.


    "Yes, sir!" he said enthusiastically. "Anything you need, any time of day¡ªyou call, and I''ll be there!"


    Max gave him a wary look. Great, he thought. Do I have another Aron situation on my hands? Still, he let it slide and headed home. He''d taken a quick shower at the gym¡ªit was actually bigger (and cleaner) than the one in his apartment.


    When he finally got back, Max peeled off his clothes and was ready to crash. But as he pulled the quilt back to slide into bed¡­ S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He noticed something sitting right on top of it.


    A laptop?


    Max raised an eyebrow as he picked it up, flipping it over. Nothing on the outside. No stickers, no markings. Just a plain, black laptop.


    Weird place to leave it, he thought, glancing at the bed. Under the quilt? Then again¡­ there''s not exactly a lot of storage space in here.


    He placed it down on the small table next to his bed, sat cross-legged on the floor, and opened it. No password. No facial recognition.


    That alone felt off¡ªespecially in this day and age.


    Guess security wasn''t a priority, he thought as the desktop booted up. He opened the internet browser and began typing.


    Let''s see what the local news has to say...


    A few minutes of scrolling later, he leaned back.


    No reports. No articles. Nothing about a body found in the river. Nothing that even hints at my death.


    I should''ve expected that. The White Tiger Gang doesn''t leave loose ends. They''re pros at cleaning up messes.


    With a sigh, he closed the browser and was about to shut the laptop entirely¡ª Until something on the screen caught his eye. A single video file. The thumbnail was paused on a dark, dimly lit frame¡ªbut the title stood out clear as day:


    "Play Me."


    Max didn''t hesitate. He clicked on it and expanded the screen to full.


    The video started¡ª


    And for a second, Max thought he was staring into a mirror.


    Because on the screen, sitting in the exact same spot, against the exact same bed, was¡­ him.


    He must''ve recorded this on the webcam, Max thought, eyes narrowing.


    But before he could finish the thought, the video began to play.


    On-screen, the other Max¡ªhis past self¡ªlooked directly into the camera.


    "If you''re watching this video¡­


    Then it means I''m already dead."

 Chapter 17 - 17: Thats Not My Name?

    His chest tightened, a sinking feeling pulling down hard in his stomach.


    That one sentence¡ª"If you''re watching this, then I''m already dead."¡ª


    It was already too much to take in.


    He''s really gone¡­ Max thought, staring at the frozen image of himself on screen. Is this what I think it is?


    The kid ended up in the hospital. His body was covered in bruises. Am I about to watch his suicide note?


    The idea unsettled him more than he expected.


    And if that was the case¡ªwould the hospital really have just discharged him like nothing happened?


    Still, the truth was impossible to ignore. The real Max Stern was gone. And somehow¡­ he''d taken his place.


    He took a deep breath. One of the few advantages of living the life he had was that his emotions weren''t easily shaken. If he was going to take over this life¡ªplay the part of Max Stern¡ªhe needed to understand who the kid really was.


    Without hesitation, he clicked play.


    And braced himself.


    "My life¡­" the Max on screen said, voice already breaking. "It''s been hard. So hard. And maybe, as someone from the Stern family, that''s hard to believe."


    His voice cracked. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Things changed when Mom and Dad died. And the more I think about it¡­ with everything that''s happened, I don''t even know if it was an accident."


    The Max in the video pulled his knees into his chest, hunching forward. He rocked gently, like he was trying to find some small, familiar comfort in the middle of his pain.


    Eventually, the Max on screen wiped his tears away. His expression changed. There was still pain in his eyes, but now there was something else behind it. A spark.


    "But I can''t give up," he said, voice steadier. "I won''t. That''s why¡­ I''m going to fight back, in my own way."


    He looked straight into the camera.


    "The reason I''m making this video is so that if someone finds it¡­ they''ll know. I, Max Stern, didn''t kill myself."


    Max blinked at the screen, surprised.


    He hadn''t expected that.


    And judging by the look in the kid''s eyes, it wasn''t fake. This was real¡ªraw. The face of someone who had been pushed too far, for too long¡­ and had finally decided to fight back.


    And where did it get him? Max thought, jaw tightening. In a hospital bed, with bruises all over his body.


    The Max on screen let out a heavy sigh before continuing.


    "There are people¡­ people who''ve made my life miserable. Every one of them has hurt me in their own way. And I swear, I''m going to get back at them. All of them."


    He hesitated, glancing away for a second¡ªthen looked back at the camera.


    "But if this video ever gets out, I don''t know which one of them will see it. And I''m sure¡­ somehow, they''ll twist this too. Use it against me. Or worse¡ªuse it to go after the people I care about."


    "That''s why I''m recording this. Not just to vent. But to find the truth. To finish what I couldn''t."


    His eyes narrowed.


    "All of these people hurt me in some way¡­ but one of them¡­ one of them killed me."


    Max was making a mental note of everything being said. It was obvious this video had been made for someone¡ªbut who? A friend? A family member? Maybe even Aron? One thing was clear¡ªit wasn''t meant for him.


    Not for someone with no context. Not for someone who had taken over Max Stern''s life.


    I should probably ask Aron what really happened, Max thought. He hasn''t said much about it, and I never pushed¡­ maybe there''s a reason. Still, judging by how he acted today, I doubt he''s involved.


    On screen, the boy''s voice cut through Max''s thoughts.


    "Remember the following names¡­"


    Max immediately pulled out his phone and started jotting them down.


    There was no way he''d remember them all otherwise¡ªand something about watching this video again just didn''t sit right with him. It felt too personal.


    One by one, the names were listed. And then, after the last one¡­ silence.


    "I''m sorry for putting all of this on your shoulders," the Max in the video said quietly.


    And just like that, the screen went black. The video was over. Max slowly closed the laptop. It felt like he had just peeked into someone else''s soul. Like he''d read a diary that was never meant to be opened.


    And now, he couldn''t unsee it.


    "So¡­ these are all the people who wronged you, huh?" Max muttered, scanning the list on his phone. "It''s a long one. Some of these names don''t surprise me¡­ but others? I don''t even recognize half of them."


    He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.


    "If I had to guess, maybe I''ll meet a few of them at school."


    His fist clenched tightly. Frustration bubbled up inside him.


    "But why?" he growled. "Why didn''t this idiot say what these people actually did to him?"


    Max punched the air in front of him, breathing heavily.


    "How''s anyone supposed to help you if they don''t even know what happened? No details, no context¡ªjust a bunch of names! How was this video supposed to help anyone?"


    The more he learned about the kid, the more irritated he became.


    It almost felt like the real Max had wanted to make things difficult. Like he''d purposely left behind a puzzle without giving anyone the pieces.


    That night was Max''s first real sleep in his new body. And it was¡­ an experience.


    His dreams were a wild blur¡ªmemories from his past life flashing by in waves. Everything he''d done, every decision that had brought him to the top¡­ and the consequences that came with it.


    But one thing echoed louder than anything else. The last voice he''d heard before he died. Repeating. Over and over.


    Until¡ª


    Beep. Beep.


    Max opened his eyes and instantly reached for his phone, shutting off the alarm. For a split second, he half-expected to wake up in his old life¡ªin his old body. But the plain, cramped room staring back at him confirmed otherwise. He was still here. Still Max Stern. Still in this body.


    As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed a couple of notifications.


    Messages from: "Stalker."


    He rolled his eyes and tapped them open.


    "Just making sure you''re up. If you''re not feeling well enough to go to school, message me. I''ll inform them.


    In case you forgot¡ªyour bag and books are usually stored under your bed."


    The second message came in right after.


    "Also, here''s the location of your school.


    I don''t know how much you remember, or how much I need to explain.


    Honestly, with how much you''ve forgotten, I''m surprised you still remember how to speak.


    Did you forget how to read a map too? Should I send instructions for that as well?"


    Max stared at the screen.


    Since the messages were all in text, it was hard to tell if Aron was being serious¡­ or if this was his version of a joke.


    Does that guy even know how to joke? Max wondered, shaking his head.


    Max crouched down and looked under the bed, just like the message said.


    Sure enough, there was a bag¡ªhalf-zipped and stuffed haphazardly out of sight.


    He dragged it out and unzipped it the rest of the way, figuring it couldn''t hurt to take a quick look inside.


    Might as well remind myself what school life''s actually like, he thought.


    The first book he pulled out was bright orange, and right on the front, a name was scrawled in permanent marker:


    Max Smith.


    Max blinked.


    "That''s¡­ not his name."


    Curious, he grabbed the rest of the books and flipped through them one by one.


    All of them had the same thing written on them.


    Max Smith.


    There was no way it was the wrong bag¡ªit had clearly been used by this Max.


    So why is he going by another name at school? Max thought, narrowing his eyes. Does no one there know he''s a Stern? But why keep that a secret?

 Chapter 18 - 18: First Day Back

    After changing into his school uniform, Max followed the route on his phone, heading toward the school.It was about a fifteen-minute walk, so still close for him. He could''ve called a cab, but he wanted the time to think. There was too much swirling in his head after everything he''d learned¡­ and what he''d just discovered.


    So he''s going by a fake name at school, Max thought. Well, technically, a fake family name. That means he doesn''t want anyone to know he''s a Stern.


    But why? If he''s being bullied, wouldn''t revealing his last name change everything? People would back off, maybe even suck up to him. The Stern family basically owns half the world.


    Anyone with a brain would think twice about messing with someone tied to that kind of power.


    He could understand hiding things from his relatives¡ªespecially after meeting them. Most of them seemed ready to use anything they could to get ahead.


    And as for his grandfather? Yeah. To someone like Dennis Stern, struggling would probably be seen as weakness¡ªproof you didn''t deserve the family name.


    But then¡­ why not use the money? Why choose to live like this if he didn''t have to?


    The more Max thought about it, the more frustrated he got. He kept scratching his head¡ªtrying not to ruin the hair he''d actually put effort into styling.


    Before he realized it, he''d arrived.


    In front of him stood the school gates, sliding open. Orange walls surrounded the campus, and beyond them, a wide field stretched out toward the main building.


    Then there was the school itself¡ª


    And just seeing it gave Max yet another surprise.


    I seriously need to stop getting surprised, he thought, sighing. But this keeps happening¡­


    Why the heck is a member of the Stern family going to a public school?


    There wasn''t a hint of judgment behind the thought. Max had gone to public school himself.


    But someone from the Stern family? It didn''t add up.


    Private schools weren''t just about better facilities¡ªthey were about connections, status, and prestige. In the business world, that stuff mattered. A lot.


    And even if his grandfather refused to pay for it, Max had access to more than enough money to cover tuition. He could''ve handled it through his allowance without anyone blinking an eye.


    None of this makes sense, Max thought, clenching his jaw. Every choice this kid made¡­ there''s something behind it. He didn''t do any of this because he wanted to.


    Now I really want to know¡ªwhat the hell was going on in his life? And why was he carrying it all alone?


    ¡ª¡ª


    Stepping inside, Max wandered the halls, and quickly realized he had no clue where his tutor class was supposed to be. He paused mid-step, staring blankly at the unfamiliar hallway.


    Maybe I should''ve messaged Aron after all, he thought, exhaling through his nose


    Thankfully, a teacher had spotted Max wandering the hallway¡ªregistration was already starting¡ªand quickly pointed him to the right classroom.


    When he stepped inside, the male teacher at the front gestured for him to come over.


    "Just stand here for a second," the teacher said.


    Then he turned to the class.


    "Alright, everyone. Quiet down."


    The room settled¡­ kind of.


    The noise dropped, but the vibe was clear¡ªthese students didn''t exactly respect the guy in charge.


    Max glanced around the room, already sizing things up.


    Considering the school''s location, he''d expected a few troublemakers, but this? This was next level.


    Not a single student had their uniform on properly. Ties were either missing or lazily dangling halfway down their chests. Shirts were untucked. The girls wore skirts hiked so high it was like they were trying to make a statement with every step.


    There were maybe three, four kids total who actually looked like they were here to study.


    The rest?


    Delinquents.


    This place wasn''t what Max had expected at all.


    Guess I might fit in more than I thought, he mused, folding his arms loosely.


    "As you all know, Max here''s been out sick the last few days," the teacher announced. "He''s still not feeling 100%, so I expect everyone to treat him a little nicer than usual, alright?"


    The class responded with a few lazy groans¡ªnothing enthusiastic, but no one pushed back either.


    "Max, go ahead and take your seat¡ªback row, far right, next to Sam," the teacher said, already heading for the door. "I just need to grab a few things before we get started."


    As Max walked down the aisle, he glanced at the students watching him.


    A few faces were too focused on him, grinning with thinly veiled amusement. He caught some low snickers as he passed by.


    So that''s how it is, Max thought. They''re not saying much now, but they''re watching.


    He finally reached the back of the room and slid into his seat next to Sam.


    The guy was bigger than most of the other students¡ªbroad frame, buzzed hair, and a surprisingly warm smile.


    "Max, good to see you back," Sam said, turning slightly in his chair.


    "Yeah," Max replied with a small smile. "It''s good to be back."


    "I hope things are okay now," Sam added, his tone more genuine than most.


    So¡­ he did have friends here, Max thought, eyeing him. This guy doesn''t seem like a bully. A big friendly giant type, maybe.


    Before he could say anything else, another voice cut through the room.


    "Hey, Max¡ªaren''t you gonna say hi to me?"


    When Max turned his head, he saw a square-faced student with jet-black hair and a sharp nose walking straight toward him.


    There was a swagger in his step¡ªcalculated and confident.


    The students behind him are watching everything, Max noticed. Is he the top dog in this class or something?


    The guy definitely had that cocky, self-important vibe.


    Alright¡­ first day back. Play it smart, Max told himself. No sudden moves.


    Without warning, the student snatched a book off Sam''s desk and casually started tapping it against Max''s head.


    "What''s with this ridiculous hairstyle?" he said, smirking. "You think you''ve changed or something? Is that why you didn''t greet me today?"


    He leaned in closer.


    "Looks like I haven''t trained my little pet properly."


    Then¡ªwhack.


    He smacked the book against Max''s head.


    Again.


    And again¡ªharder with each word.


    "I guess¡­" whack


    "I need to make you¡­" whack


    "Remember your lesson." whack


    With that, he finally pulled the book back and stared down at Max like he was waiting for a reaction.


    "Remember, when you walk in every day, you say, ''Good morning, Master Ko.''"


    Max''s jaw clenched.


    Master Ko.


    His heart thumped hard in his chest.


    That''s one of the names from the video¡­ One of the people who pushed Max this far.


    So this guy''s on the list. Looks like I''ve found one of the reasons the real Max cracked.


    He didn''t show it¡ªbut inside, he was already taking notes.


    Yeah¡­ I''m definitely going to keep an eye on him.


    I need to play along¡­ if I''m going to find out the truth.


    Max forced the words out through gritted teeth.


    "Good morning¡­ Master Ko."


    Just saying it made his stomach twist.


    "Better," Ko smirked, clearly satisfied. "You''d better be a good pet, Max¡ªif you want a peaceful life at this school."


    With that, Ko turned and strutted back to his seat like he owned the place.


    Max didn''t move.


    He just sat there, jaw clenched and fists balled so tight his knuckles had gone white. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I have to blend in, he reminded himself. There are more names on that list. I need to figure out why Max''s life was like this¡ªwhy he ended up so broken.


    But no matter how many times he told himself to stay calm¡­


    He wasn''t sure how much longer he could keep the anger from boiling over, the White Tiger wasn''t used to getting treated like this.

 Chapter 19 - 19: The Life Of The Bullied

    The first classes of the day had started¡ª


    And Max was already bored out of his mind. Way more than he remembered school ever being.


    Maybe back then, he''d only held on to the good memories. Or maybe now, with everything he knew and had experienced, it was impossible not to see how useless most of this stuff really was.


    Every formula, every dated history fact¡ªnone of it had helped him in his actual life. And now, sitting in a classroom again, it all felt even more pointless.


    Especially for this Max Stern¡ªwho had more money at his fingertips than most people would see in a lifetime.


    It made all of this feel like a complete waste of time. So instead, Max redirected his focus.


    Forget the schoolwork. The only thing I''m going to focus on is figuring out the truth about the real Max Stern.


    It''s the least I can do for him¡ªfor using his body, for taking over his life. If I can understand what happened to him¡­ fix the mess he was stuck in¡­ maybe then I''ll know how to move forward. And when I''ve figured out how to be him¡­ I''ll figure out how to bring down the White Tigers too.


    But as the day went on, Max realized something else¡ª


    The lessons weren''t just boring. They were loud. Because every single class came with a side of chaos. And the worst part? Max and Sam were the only ones consistently getting targeted.


    Someone was always whispering their names, chucking stuff at them when the teacher wasn''t looking, or shooting them smug grins from across the room.


    It was subtle at first¡ªbut it was constant. And Max was starting to see just how deep this went.


    Throughout the morning, it was nonstop. Multiple attempts were made to trip Max as he moved between classes. Thumbtacks were waiting on his chair more than once. His books kept getting slapped off his desk and stomped on.


    It wasn''t subtle. It was targeted.


    And it was all coming from three people¡ªKo, and his ever-present shadows: Joe and Mo.


    I swear, did those three team up just because their names rhyme? What is this, the bargain-bin version of the Power Rangers? Max thought bitterly.


    Out of the trio, though, only Ko''s name had shown up on the list.


    Still¡­ if these two follow him around like this, there''s a chance they''re involved in more than just playground bullying. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Eventually, the bell rang after third period¡ªfinally signaling the start of lunch. Max stood up, grabbing his bag, and Sam did the same beside him. He was glad Sam was there. It sucked that the guy was being bullied too, but it gave Max someone to mirror¡ªsomeone who knew how to play this twisted little game.


    That was, until Ko strolled in with his two loyal henchmen flanking him.


    "Attention, you two!" Ko snapped.


    Sam straightened up instantly, and Max followed his lead, jaw tight.


    Ko smirked like he owned the room.


    "Since someone forgot to greet me properly this morning," he said, eyes on Max, "I think it''s time you both got reminded of your place."


    His grin widened.


    "So for lunch, you''re going to be my personal servants. Go to the cafeteria, get our food, and make sure we get the best seats. Got it?"


    Fetch their food? Max thought, his jaw tightening. This new generation of punks¡­ they''re worse than the delinquents from my time.


    "Come on!" Ko barked.


    Without warning, he drove his foot into Sam''s stomach. The bigger boy doubled over, clutching his gut, and stumbled out of the classroom. Max quickly followed after him.


    They rushed down the halls and made it to the cafeteria in decent time, but other students¡ªwhose classrooms were closer¡ªhad already started lining up.


    Max fell into line beside Sam and scanned the scene. Things had definitely changed since he was in school. He watched as students tapped their phones against an NFC reader, got their payments processed, and then picked up trays of food.


    "¡­He didn''t give us any money," Max muttered.


    Sam sighed. "Of course he didn''t."


    "That''s what he means by punishment. It''s not just grabbing food¡ªit''s paying for it too."


    Max clenched his fists slightly, resisting the urge to turn around and storm back.


    "Does he make you¡ªus¡ªdo this every day?" he asked, trying to sound casual.


    Sam glanced at him sideways. "Did you hit your head too hard while you were in the hospital or something?"


    He let out a short snort¡ªthat weird laugh of his that probably made him a target more than anything else.


    "He does it a lot, but not every day. Guess today''s one of the ''lucky'' ones."


    Sam looked down, embarrassed.


    "I hate to ask, but¡­ do you mind covering the third tray today? I''ll get it next time. I really don''t have much allowance left."


    They needed five trays in total¡ªtwo for themselves, and three for Ko and his goons.


    As they reached the metal counter, Sam grabbed two trays. He was just about to pull out his phone when Max reached across and tapped his own on the NFC reader.


    Twice.


    "I got this one. Don''t worry about it," Max said casually.


    Then, without hesitation, he picked up three more trays and paid again.


    Sam froze for a second before quietly setting his phone away.


    "¡­Thank you," he said, voice low as he rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.


    Max noticed the tears but tried to play it cool.


    "Hey, come on," he said, glancing away. "Don''t get all emotional on me. I only did it ''cause it''s not a big deal. Seriously, don''t read into it too much."


    Still, even Max could tell it meant something to the guy.


    It had been nothing for him, but for Sam? That small act hit hard.


    After gathering all five trays of food, they made their way to a table. Back and forth, they set the trays down¡ªthree on one side, two on the other.


    Not long after, they spotted Ko and his crew walking in. Sam immediately stood up straight beside the table, hands by his side. Max followed his lead, mirroring the posture like it was second nature.


    The three of them¡ªKo, Joe, and Mo¡ªstrolled in, laughing like they didn''t have a care in the world.


    They went straight to the table, grinning the moment they spotted the trays.


    Without a word, they sat down and started scarfing down their food like it was some kind of reward.


    Max stayed standing¡ªfollowing Sam''s lead¡ªwatching them eat while their own trays sat untouched.


    "Man, I''m still hungry," Ko said, rubbing his stomach. He glanced over at the other side of the table.


    "Hey, you don''t mind if I eat yours, right?"


    He didn''t wait for a reply.


    Ko was already reaching across, dragging the two untouched trays over to his side.


    "But that''s¡ª" Sam instinctively reached out, then froze. He stopped himself from saying what he really wanted to.


    Instead, he tried a different approach. "If you eat that¡­ what are we supposed to eat? We don''t have money to buy more."


    His voice cracked a little¡ªnot from fear, but frustration. More than anything, Max could tell¡ªSam didn''t want Ko to take the food Max had paid for.


    If it had been his own money, Sam might''ve just let it go. But this¡­ this felt different.


    Ko rolled his eyes and smirked.


    "What''s the problem, piggy? You look like you''ve already had enough. I''m doing you a favor, honestly."


    Sam lowered his head and looked away. Didn''t argue. Didn''t fight. Just went quiet.


    "Damn it!" Ko snapped, tossing his fork down. "Now you''ve ruined my appetite."


    With a single shove, he sent the tray sliding off the table. It clattered to the floor¡ªfood splattering across the tiles.


    "If you''re really that hungry," Ko sneered, "why don''t you eat it off the floor like the pig you are?"


    He laughed, and so did his two lackeys as they stood up and casually walked out of the cafeteria, their trays half-finished, their mess left behind.


    Sam silently dropped to one knee, grabbing a napkin and starting to clean up the spilled food, his face red¡ªnot just from embarrassment, but from holding everything in.


    Max knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    "Don''t worry about it," he said softly. "You can have my food."


    Sam''s eyes widened. "No way. You already paid for all of it. What about you? What are you going to eat?"


    Max stood up, his gaze locked on the three walking out of the room.


    "Don''t worry," he said, brushing off his hands. "I don''t think I''ll have time to eat."


    His voice was calm¡ªtoo calm.


    "Looks like I''ve got something else to take care of."

 Chapter 20 - 20: When He Snaps

    Max trailed Ko and his cronies as they strolled out of the cafeteria, still laughing, still joking around like nothing had happened.


    Like humiliating someone was just part of their routine. His footsteps quickened. His fists were clenched tight, knuckles straining with each step.


    I don''t get it, Max, he thought, the frustration boiling inside him. If this was your daily life¡­ why didn''t you do something? Why didn''t you transfer? Fight back? Pay someone off¡ªanything?


    He remembered the video.


    You said you were going to fight back.


    Were those bruises from that? Did you finally snap? Was that what landed you in the hospital?


    Max''s jaw tightened.


    I''m sorry, Max Stern. If this is the life you lived, I respect you¡­ but this isn''t the life I can live for you. I can''t just sit back and take it.


    Up ahead, Ko and his friends were just passing through the double doors. Max pushed forward, his vision narrowing as he locked onto Ko''s back.


    Closer.


    His hand shot out, ready to grab him, but just as his fingers brushed Ko''s shoulder¡ª


    Someone grabbed his wrist from behind. Firm. Stopping him cold.


    He felt himself yanked backward. Then, before he could react, he was pulled into one of the nearby classrooms. Empty. The door slammed shut behind them.


    All Max could see at first was the back of a girl''s head¡ªher long hair swaying slightly as she let go of his arm with a sharp flick.


    That hair¡­ she looks familiar¡­


    She turned around, arms crossed tightly across her chest, eyebrows furrowed.


    "What the hell was that back there?" she demanded.


    And the moment Max saw her face, it all clicked.


    Sheri Curts.


    The name hit him like a cold splash of water.


    Right. Aron told me about her¡ªmy ex-fianc¨¦e. From a wealthy family that''s now¡­ crumbling. She was at the Stern party too. Guess things really are bad if she ended up in this school.


    "What are you talking about?" Max asked, keeping his tone calm.


    "I''m talking about whatever you were just about to do in the hallway," Sheri said. "You think confronting Ko is going to fix anything?"


    Her glare sharpened.


    "If you go up against him, all you''re going to do is get humiliated. Again. And when that happens, it reflects on me too."


    "Is it?" Max replied, raising an eyebrow. "Far as I know, the two of us don''t have a relationship anymore."


    At that, Sheri turned her head away.


    Max couldn''t see her expression, but when she finally looked back, her face was just as tense¡ªeyes narrowed, jaw tight.


    "This is humiliating," she snapped. "All of it. What happened in the cafeteria? Watching you get treated like some stray dog? Do you even realize how that reflects on me?"


    She threw her hands up in frustration.


    "I was engaged to you, remember? If that ever got out¡ªif people found out I was connected to this version of you?" She cut herself off with a growl, then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.


    Max let out a quiet laugh once she was gone.


    "She stopped me because she thought she knew what I was about to do. Like she was worried I''d get hurt or something." He shook his head. "She has no idea who I really am. Even in this body¡­ I could flatten Ko and his goons without breaking a sweat."


    Still, something about the way Sheri had acted lingered in his mind.


    She hadn''t seemed like she hated him¡ªnot completely.


    They went to the same school. She had to know about the fake name. And yet¡­ she hadn''t said anything.


    We were engaged, so how close were we really?


    She could''ve been the perfect person to ask about his old life¡ªif only she wasn''t such a pain to talk to.


    Her name wasn''t on the video¡­ not on the list either.


    Maybe that''s a good sign.


    As Max stepped out of the empty classroom, he realized most of his anger had faded.


    Charging after Ko and his goons in the hallway would''ve been reckless. No plan, no backup, and nothing to gain except attention¡ªand that was the last thing he needed right now.


    There was still only one person from the list he''d identified. And as far as the video hinted, not even the real Max had figured out who was ultimately responsible for everything.


    One name down. A bunch to go. And still no clue who the real threat is.


    He continued walking, trying to clear his thoughts, when suddenly¡ª


    A girl stepped directly into his path.


    She had a high ponytail, big anxious eyes, and a stack of books pressed to her chest.


    "Uh¡­ Max," she said softly, glancing nervously over her shoulder. "Can we talk?"


    Max blinked.


    Not good. Not good at all. Another person who knows Max, and I have zero idea who she is.


    "Uh, actually¡ªI''m kinda in a rush. Need to get back to class," he said, trying to sidestep her.


    And seriously, what is with girls just randomly showing up in my life? Was Max secretly a magnet or something?


    "I just¡­ I''m really worried about you," she said.


    Max''s eyes dropped to the top textbook in her stack. Scribbled in neat handwriting across the front: Abby.


    Okay. Name locked in. Now¡­ who the hell is Abby?


    "I mean¡­ you ended up in the hospital," Abby said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It had to be because of them, right? Things have just been getting worse for you. I saw what happened in the cafeteria¡ª" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her words started to shake, her eyes glassy.


    "I''m scared, Max. If they keep pushing you like this¡­ If they push you too far¡­"


    A tear slipped down her cheek.


    Max just stared at her for a second.


    How¡­ how did the original Max manage this?


    Despite the crap life he lived, somehow he had a girl like Abby who genuinely cared about him.


    Were they together? Did they used to be? Did he reject her?


    Wouldn''t Aron have told me something like that?


    Abby wiped her face with the sleeve of her cardigan, then stepped a little closer.


    "I just¡ªif something had happened to you, and I never got to see you again¡­" Her voice cracked. "Why won''t you let me help you? Why don''t you ever talk to me?"


    She clutched her books tighter to her chest. "If you ever need anything¡­ anything at all, just ask me, okay?"


    Max swallowed hard.


    The problem is, dear Abby¡­ I don''t even know who you are.


    He offered a soft, awkward smile. The kind that said thanks, without revealing the truth he was dying to hide.


    -----


    The underworld had its own way of keeping connected.


    News in this world didn''t spread through headlines or press conferences¡ªit passed in whispers, texts, and fear. Long before anything hit the public, those in the game already knew.


    And lately, one piece of news had been echoing through the shadows.


    The White Tiger was dead.


    "The White Tiger''s gone? That''s not possible¡ªhow could anyone take him out?"


    "I''m serious! I heard he once took down a hundred guys by himself."


    "Pfft. That has to be an exaggeration."


    "No, man¡ªbare fists. The rest had weapons. Every gang''s heard the story."


    "Even if that''s blown out of proportion, you can''t deny the other stuff. There''s talk he was betrayed. Stabbed in the back."


    "That''s what''s scary. If he could get taken out like that¡­"


    "I''m telling you, if the White Tiger was still breathing, just his presence would be enough to tear down every gang out there."


    "There''s not a single soul in the underworld who''d dare cross him. I''ve seen what he''s like when he snaps. And trust me¡ªno one wants to be near when that happens."

 Chapter 21 - 21: Boxing Genius

    The rest of the day? Unpleasant, to say the least. But for Max¡­ it was at least bearable.


    Maybe that was thanks to what had gone down in the cafeteria. After something that loud and humiliating, everything else felt like a step down.


    The name-calling, the shoulder checks in the hallway, the muttered insults¡ªit all kind of blended together.


    But Max couldn''t shake a thought:


    This was just one day for me. One day¡­ and it''s already draining.


    How much worse must it be for the real Max? Or for guys like Sam, living this on repeat, every single day? How do they even keep going?


    He thought back to his own teenage years¡ªrough around the edges, sure. He''d been a rule-breaker, didn''t take orders, stirred up trouble when he had to¡­


    But he never messed with people just for fun. Not like these kids did. There was no shame in it for them¡ªno line they wouldn''t cross.


    It''s like they treat cruelty as a hobby.


    By the time the final bell rang, Max was more than ready to call it a day. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way toward the school gates, where Sam was already waiting.


    "Hey," Sam said, slightly out of breath. "Thanks again for today. For¡­ you know, everything. I''ll pay you back for the food."


    Max waved him off. "Seriously, don''t worry about it. I really don''t need the money."


    Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but just smiled instead.


    "Well¡­ if I can''t pay you back with cash, then I''ll just take a few punches for you or something."


    With that, he took off down the street, already jogging away.


    Max stood there, watching him go, shaking his head.


    "He''s a good kid," Max muttered to himself, thinking about Sam. "But with the way things are¡­ unless he stands up for himself, he''s always going to be a target. Wouldn''t hurt if he hit the gym a few times. Might give him a little more confidence, too."


    That thought reminded Max of where he was headed next. The gym.


    If he wanted to get this body into shape, he had to be consistent. No skipping out. No excuses.


    And since it wasn''t like he had a packed social calendar¡ªor any friends at all, really¡ªit made sense to go straight after school.


    Besides, if he did have any old friends, meeting them now would only raise more questions he couldn''t answer.


    He shot Steven a quick text to make sure the gym was open.


    By the time Max arrived, Steven was already waiting out front, flipping through something on his phone. Max took one look and squinted. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wait¡­ did you get a haircut? And the beard''s gone too."


    Steven grinned, rubbing his now-smooth jaw. "Yeah, figured I could treat myself a little."


    Then he muttered under his breath, "Might all go back to how it was if I''m not careful¡­"


    Max didn''t press him. He already knew the guy was on edge about the gym''s future.


    "I''m gonna start leaving a change of clothes here," Max said, walking past him. "Just make sure the bills are covered with the payment I send. Keep this place open. That''s more than enough for me."


    Steven gave a nod, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face.


    Just like the day before, Max was back in the gym and back on the weights¡ªthis time focusing on a different muscle group. His routine was solid, purposeful. Every rep counted.


    Meanwhile, Steven leaned on the front desk, his arms folded, pretending to scroll through his phone while watching the teen out of the corner of his eye.


    I couldn''t find a single thing about this kid, Steven thought. At first, I figured I''d been scammed. Took a risk and got a haircut with the money before it cleared. But sure enough¡­ it all went through.


    He had even tried to do some light digging.


    Typed in the number, got nothing. Tried ''red-haired rich teenager''¡ªalso nothing. Not that I was expecting much with that search, but still.


    Even though things were looking up for him financially, Steven couldn''t help but daydream about more. About what this gym could be.


    He pictured the sound of gloves pounding against bags, students sparring in the ring, laughter and sweat in the air. He imagined rows of teenagers pushing themselves, working hard, growing stronger.


    Instead, it was quiet. Empty. Just him and Max.


    And that''s when he noticed something new¡ªMax had picked up a pair of gloves and was walking over to one of the heavy bags.


    Huh? He didn''t do this yesterday, Steven thought, his pulse picking up just a little.


    He kept his eyes locked, watching carefully as Max threw a few warm-up jabs and began to find a rhythm.


    To Steven''s surprise, the kid wasn''t bad. Not bad at all.


    Weird¡­ he''s got no real frame, doesn''t look like he''s played a single sport in his life, but those punches¡­


    Max moved like someone who''d been in a ring before.


    It wasn''t just random punches¡ªSteven kept watching as Max threw clean combinations on the heavy bag. He wasn''t just flailing his fists around. He mixed in jabs, crosses, hooks, even a few uppercuts, weaving side to side like he was imagining a real opponent in front of him.


    Then, just as the pressure and pace picked up, Max suddenly stopped.


    That had to be about three minutes, Steven thought. Did he just time himself like it was a real boxing round?


    Max stepped back, took a breather for about a minute, then went right back to the bag again. Same intensity. Same focus.


    Yeah, I''m sure of it now. The weight training, the combos, the pacing¡ªhe''s done this before. Not just once or twice, either. It''s like I''m watching someone who''s been doing this for years. He''s got experience¡­ maybe even serious experience. The technique''s not perfect, and the strength could use work, but still. Just what is this kid''s story?


    When Max finally paused again, Steven couldn''t hold it in anymore. He stood up from behind the desk.


    "Hey¡­ have you boxed before?" Steven asked.


    Max shrugged. "I''ve done my fair share here and there," he replied casually. "Nothing professional or anything, but some people might say I''ve got more experience than most."


    Steven just stared. The way Max was moving, the things he said¡ªit didn''t match up at all with how he looked.


    Then Max turned to him, rolling out his shoulders.


    "You mind grabbing the pads?" he asked. "I''ve got a lot on my mind today. Need to punch it out."


    Steven didn''t mind one bit. Holding the mitts for someone wasn''t just about catching punches¡ªit actually took a lot of skill. Training someone like this, working combos, reacting at just the right time¡ªthis was exactly what Steven had dreamed of doing when he first opened the gym.


    He positioned the mitts in just the right spots, the kind of places a fighter would want to land a clean hit to do real damage. Each time Max threw a punch, Steven moved the mitt forward ever so slightly to meet the strike¡ªeach one landing with a sharp, satisfying thwack.


    They kept going at it, and what impressed Steven most wasn''t just Max''s technique, it was his mindset. Max didn''t stop pushing himself, even when it was clear he was exhausted. But the most intense part? That look in his eyes¡ªlike he was fighting off something much bigger than just a punching bag.


    When they finally wrapped things up, Steven let his arms drop to his sides, still catching his breath from the pace.


    "With the skills you''ve got, you could go all the way¡ªyou could be a world champion!" Steven suddenly yelled, eyes wide with excitement. "I''m serious! Let''s make you a world champion!"


    "World champion?" Max repeated, breathing hard as he peeled the gloves off his hands. "No thanks. I''m not interested in that."


    And just like that, all of Steven''s hopes and dreams seemed to crash into the mat.


    "What do you mean?" Steven asked, baffled. "Think about it¡ªbeing a world champion means prestige! Your name in lights, in history books! You''d be remembered forever. And don''t forget the money! You''d be set for life!"


    For Max, none of those things¡ªfame, glory, money¡ªmattered to him at all. He already had more than enough wealth. His life was already hanging by a thread, surrounded by danger at every turn. The last thing he needed was more attention. All he really wanted was to get to the truth.


    "Then why are you here?" Steven asked, confused. "Why train like this every day? And how can you just throw away your natural talent? Even if your technique isn''t perfect, the way you shift your weight into your punches¡ªman, someone your size shouldn''t hit that hard, but you do."


    It wasn''t the first time Max had heard something like that. A lot of people he''d fought in the past had said the exact same thing¡ªusually after they were picking themselves up off the floor.


    "I''m not doing this for some big reason," Max replied, already halfway out the gym. "Look, I don''t ask for much, alright? Just keep your phone close in case I need you."


    "Damn it. Damn it!" Steven yelled, frustration boiling over as he spun and launched a heavy kick straight into one of the hanging bags. It swung wildly, chains rattling as the weight shifted with the force of the blow.


    Max heard the loud thud and turned his head back. Through the window, he caught sight of the heavy bag swinging like crazy. It was a powerful kick¡ªmore force than most could manage¡ªand right then, an idea started to form in his mind.


    "How much?" Max asked.


    Steven blinked in surprise. "How much¡­? You''re already paying me. What are you asking for¡ªthe price of a title? You interested in going pro after all?" His smile crept back onto his face with a hint of excitement.


    But Max didn''t smile. He stayed still, his eyes serious.


    "No," Max replied. "How much would it cost¡­ to pay you to take care of someone for me?"

 Chapter 22 - 22: Putting Max Through Hell

    Steven stuck his little finger in his ear and twisted, half-convinced he''d misheard.


    "Wait¡­ what did you just say? Did you seriously ask me to take care of someone?"


    Max didn''t flinch. He just stared straight ahead, eyes locked on Steven, waiting for a response.


    "Hey, you''ve got to be careful with how you say stuff like that," Steven muttered, glancing around the empty gym out of instinct. "You say something like that, and it almost sounds like you want me to¡­" He lowered his voice. "Kill someone."


    That made Max laugh, and not a little chuckle either¡ªfull-on laughter that echoed through the gym. Given the context, it made him seem completely unhinged.


    "No, I''m not asking you to go that far," Max said as the laughter faded. "I just want you to rough someone up a bit. A few solid hits here and there¡ªsomeone from my school."


    Steven''s brows drew together. "You want me to beat up a kid?"


    He shook his head. Based on what he''d seen of Max so far, the request didn''t really add up. The kid could clearly handle himself. Still, Steven had a few guesses. Maybe Max was being bullied at school, and this was his way of fighting back.


    But if that was true¡­ then who the hell were these bullies?


    "I''m sorry¡­ I just¡­ I don''t think I can do it," Steven finally said, shaking his head. "Beating up someone I don''t even know? Someone I''ve got no personal issue with? That''s just not who I am. And besides¡­ we''re talking about a teenager. A 17-year-old kid. I don''t think I could go through with something like that."


    Max gave a small nod. He''d gotten the answer he was looking for¡ªnot disappointed, not surprised. If anything, he''d just been curious. Curious to see what someone like Steven, with real skill, might say when faced with a situation like that.


    Because Max wasn''t just thinking about today.


    He was thinking about the future¡ªabout the White Tiger Gang. About going up against the very empire he had built from the ground up. It was a force too large to take on alone. And Max didn''t have the luxury of time to build deep, meaningful relationships. Not anymore.


    So, instead, he wanted to test something.


    Just how far can money really take me?


    After all¡­


    You said money is what rules the world.


    That''s why I was betrayed, right?


    With those thoughts, Max slid his hands into his pockets and turned away.


    Steven, still watching him, felt his phone buzz. Then again. And again. Notifications lit up the screen¡ªseveral messages from different people and companies, all popping up in quick succession.


    [Your loan is overdue.]


    [Your debt has gone into collections.]


    [If you don''t pay us back, you know what will happen to you.]


    Steven stared at the screen, his grip on the phone tightening. Slowly, his eyes lifted toward Max, who was just about to walk out the gym doors.


    "But!" Steven suddenly shouted. "It depends how high¡­ after all, there''s a price for everything."


    Max didn''t even glance back. He kept walking, a small smile creeping onto his face. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ''There sure is.''


    Steven stood frozen in the middle of his empty gym.


    "¡­Wait, he''s not even going to make an offer? Was that all just to mess with my head?!"


    When Max finally returned home, he pulled out his phone and started reviewing the information he had gathered so far¡ªtrying to piece together the fragments of Max Stern''s life. He was looking for patterns, connections, anything that would help him make sense of why things had turned out the way they did.


    He had met a few people now, but none of them explained everything.


    So far, I''ve only managed to find one person from the list.


    And I know the moment I act, things will spiral. It''ll get messy fast. I need to find more names before I do anything¡ªat least until this body is strong enough to handle what''s coming.


    The next day arrived, and Max was back at school¡ªthe dreaded place that twisted Max Stern''s life.


    As soon as he walked into the classroom, his eyes locked onto Sam.


    He''d been pushed to the back of the room.


    Again.


    Joe and Mo each held a permanent black marker in their hands, scrawling all over Sam''s white school shirt. They were mostly drawing two balls and a long shaft¡ªthinking they were absolutely hilarious.


    At least, Ko thought so. He was doubled over at his desk, laughing loudly.


    "Ha! What a perfect canvas. Honestly, I''d say we just increased the value of your shirt by fifty percent," Ko mocked.


    Tears welled up in Sam''s eyes. He didn''t cry out loud, but it was clear how much this hurt him. He knew neither he nor his family could afford a new uniform.


    "Aww, is Piggy upset?" Ko taunted. "What''s the matter? They don''t make shirts big enough in your size?"


    He then turned to look behind him¡ªhis eyes landing on Max, who had just entered the classroom.


    "Joe, I think we need a fresh canvas, don''t you?" Ko grinned.


    Joe didn''t hesitate. He strolled toward Max, reaching out to grab a fistful of his shirt¡ªjust like always.


    But this time, Max slapped the hand away without thinking.


    "Don''t touch me," Max snapped.


    Joe blinked, stunned. "What the hell? Did you just¡­ talk back to me? And knock my hand away?!"


    Damn it, Max thought. I acted on instinct¡­ I only just walked in, and I already slipped. That''s exactly what I would''ve done before. Crap¡ªI can''t act now. Not in front of everyone.


    "Aren''t you going to say anything?!" Joe shouted before slamming a kick straight into Max''s stomach.


    The impact knocked the air out of him as he crumpled to his knees. Without a pause, Joe grabbed Max by the hair, yanking him up and dragging him across the classroom floor.


    "Did you not hear what Ko said? You two are our servants. You don''t get to defy us!"


    With that, he flung Max across the room, releasing his grip. Max slammed into the back wall.


    Slowly, Max brushed off the dirt from his uniform and moved to stand beside Sam again.


    "What the hell is that?" Ko said from his seat, squinting toward the back of the classroom. "What the fuck is that look on your face?"


    Right now, Max was doing everything he could to restrain himself. Every fiber in his body screamed to act¡ªbut he knew if he snapped now, everything he''d built up could come crashing down. Still, his fury was written all over his face as he glared at the three of them.


    "Looks like we''ve got a defiant one," Ko sneered. "Y''know, we''ve been going a little easy on Sam lately. Maybe you forgot your place. Joe¡ªhow about we remind him with something special? A beating so bad, he''ll wish he was in hell."

 Chapter 23 - 23: The Mask Is Off

    "Alright, follow me," Joe said, both hands stuffed casually in his pockets. "And if you don''t, I''ll make you walk the whole way barefoot."


    All of this was happening because of one mistake¡ªMax had spoken up too soon. His plan had been simple: go along with these losers, blend in, and then start digging for information. Maybe snoop around the school library or the teachers'' lounge to find any more names that were on the list.


    But now? He was stuck in this situation instead.


    Trying to fix his misstep, Max followed Joe willingly.


    I''ll just take whatever beating he''s got planned, Max thought. Get it over with, then come back and get back on track.


    As Joe passed Ko and Mo, the three of them exchanged smug smiles. Not long after, the other two got up and left the classroom as well.


    "Man, I gotta take a leak before first period," Ko said, stretching his arms. "Shame I can''t watch what''s about to go down, but I really can''t afford to be late again." Mo followed behind him, both of them heading in the opposite direction from where Joe had taken Max.


    They were laughing like nothing had happened, while back in the classroom, Sam sat frozen at his desk, anxiously biting his nail.


    Crap, crap¡­ this can''t be good! Sam panicked internally. If they''re taking him outside, it means whatever they''re planning to do, they really don''t want the teachers or other students to see. And the teacher hasn''t even arrived yet¡­ I can''t tell anyone.


    Nervously biting at his nail, Sam eventually sank into his seat, eyes drifting to the clock. His thoughts were racing¡ªwondering what Max might be going through right now.


    He just got out of the hospital. There''s no way he''s in good shape already¡­ What if they go too far this time? Worse than before? Sam squeezed his eyes shut, his fists tightening on the desk. But if I get involved¡­ they''ll just make my life even worse. It''s already bad enough¡­ Why does this always happen to me?


    As both of Sam''s hands trembled on top of the desk, a memory hit him¡ªMax, standing there in the cafeteria, paying for everyone''s food without hesitation. The way he spoke to him like a real friend, like someone who actually cared.


    He said I didn''t have to worry about it¡­ that he''d take care of it. I said that I would repay him for that favour.


    Sam stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back.


    "I¡­ I have to at least do this," he whispered to himself.


    Without wasting another second, he rushed out of the classroom and sprinted through the hallway, searching desperately for a teacher¡ªany adult who could help.


    But so far¡­ there was no one.


    Meanwhile, both Ko and Mo were casually walking back from the toilets.


    "Hey¡­ was that Sam just now? Looked like he was running out," Mo said, glancing over his shoulder.


    "Yeah," Ko replied with a smug grin. "Maybe he finally decided to run home and never come back to school. One less loser to deal with."


    "You don''t think he''s, like¡­ gonna tell a teacher or something?" Mo asked, a bit of unease creeping into his voice.


    Ko scoffed. "Don''t be stupid. He tried that once, remember? Got smacked so hard he was too scared to even talk after that. He''s not gonna try it again. We warned him what would happen next time."


    -----


    At the same time, Sam was racing through the hallways, his breath coming fast and shallow. He''d passed a few teachers, but for some reason¡­ his legs froze every time he got close.


    Why can''t I say anything¡­? Why won''t the words come out?


    His hands trembled at his sides. His whole body was on edge.


    But then¡ªhe spotted someone. Someone he knew might actually do something.


    "Abby!" Sam shouted as he ran up to her.


    Abby turned, startled. "Oh, hey Sam. What''s wrong? You look¡ªwait, did something happen?"


    Sam nodded, breathless. "It''s Max¡­ I think he''s in trouble."


    -----


    Following Joe, Max soon realized they were heading outside. Most of the students had already returned to their classrooms¡ªthe bell for first period was about to ring any second.


    Not that being late was Max''s biggest concern right now.


    Joe led him to the music storage building, a smaller structure detached from the main school. It was a place rarely visited unless someone needed to fetch or return instruments or equipment.


    "Hurry up!" Joe barked, pointing inside.


    Max stepped forward, and without warning, a hard kick slammed into his back, sending him stumbling into the room. The door slammed shut behind them.


    "You''re still acting tough, huh? Still not listening?" Joe growled.


    He grabbed Max by the hair and yanked his head back before delivering a sharp slap across his face. Max''s body swung with the impact before crashing to the side.


    Joe laughed. "I can''t believe people like you and Sam exist. It''s pathetic. But I guess that''s just the food chain everyone talks about¡ªand we''re at the top."


    ''You think you''re at the top?'' Max thought as he steadied himself. Just how small is your world¡­ to believe something like that?


    Max remained on the ground, pretending to be more hurt than he was. He kept his breathing shallow, his head lowered, waiting.


    Joe strutted forward, swept his leg back, and drove a brutal kick into Max''s stomach.


    "Ko told me to make sure you remember your place!" Joe shouted, delivering another kick just as hard.


    Just take it, Max... just take it. Remember¡ªthis is what the real Max Stern endured. He had half your strength¡­ and no way out, Max reminded himself.


    Joe crouched down, pulled off one of his shoes, then peeled off his sock and tossed it beside Max.


    Then, with a wide, disgusting grin, he raised his bare foot and pressed it near Max''s face.


    "Remember, you and Sam are our servants," Joe sneered. "So do what you''re told¡­ Now suck it."


    He burst into laughter, keeping his foot hovering, wiggling his toes with sick delight.


    "Come on, suck it! Suck it, you''re my slave!" he shouted again, louder this time.


    Max kept his head low, staring at the ground, but his body was trembling¡ªnot with fear, but restraint.


    Joe''s laughter faded into irritation. "Tch. I guess you haven''t learned your lesson after all!"


    He swung his foot, aiming straight for Max''s face.


    But it never landed.


    Max''s hand shot up like a viper, catching Joe''s foot mid-air, stopping it cold.


    "What the¡ª?" Joe gasped.


    "I give up," Max said calmly, still not looking up.


    Joe smirked, thinking he''d finally won. "Haha¡­ so you''re finally gonna suck¡ª"


    "I give up¡­ playing along," Max interrupted, his voice cold and deadly.


    He looked up slowly, eyes burning with fury. The mask was off. He had snapped. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 24 - 24: A Painful Lesson

    Throughout the constant barrage from Joe, Max had been repeating the same thing in his mind¡ªJust get through the day. Just live his life. This is Max Stern''s life now, and if he could survive it, so can I.


    But all of that vanished the moment Joe crossed the final line.


    Max couldn''t take it anymore. The anger, the humiliation, everything he had bottled up, exploded to the surface. The moment he caught Joe''s foot, there was no going back.


    With a firm push, Max flung Joe backward. He stumbled, barely catching himself before hitting the floor.


    "What the hell do you think you''re doing?" Joe shouted.


    Max stood tall, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth¡ªthe small cut Joe had given him¡ªand his glare was cold, focused.


    "You think I''m scared of you?" Max said, his voice low but steady. "You think anyone with half a spine would be afraid of you?"


    "You should''ve listened when you had the chance," Joe continued, his voice rising with fury. "I was letting you off easy compared to what Ko would''ve done¡­ but now? Now you''ve gone and done it!"


    Screaming, Joe charged forward and threw a wild punch straight at Max''s face.


    Calmly, without even raising his hands, Max shifted to the side, effortlessly dodging both of Joe''s wild swings. After a particularly large, sloppy punch, Max stepped in close. With precision, he grabbed Joe by the shoulders and yanked him down¡ªdriving his knee hard into his gut.


    Spit burst from Joe''s mouth as the air was violently knocked from his lungs. He tried to inhale, to recover, but it felt like nothing was coming back in. And just as the panic hit him¡ªso did Max''s fist.


    A bare-knuckled strike connected squarely with his jaw, snapping Joe''s head back. Shockwaves of pain rattled through his skull as he dropped to the floor, collapsing onto his backside in a daze.


    "ARGHH!" Joe screamed in agony.


    "SHUT UP!" Max snapped, grabbing Joe''s head with one hand and slapping him hard across the face with the other.


    "ARGHH!"


    Smack!


    Another slap.


    Every sound Joe let out was met with another sharp slap. Again. And again. Until, finally, the message landed. Joe stopped making a sound.


    Max stood over him, breathing heavily, running one hand through his hair.


    "I was so damn tired of that little act," Max muttered. "What is wrong with you? Are you mentally deranged? Do you have some kind of sick foot fetish or something?"


    He looked down at Joe''s trembling form.


    "The more I think about it¡­ the more I''m starting to feel like I haven''t done enough."


    Joe instinctively flinched. His mind was spinning from the first two heavy hits¡ªhis vision blurred, and his legs felt like jelly. The stinging in his face was sharp and constant, and his cheek was beginning to swell.


    Max looked down at him, expression cold and unrelenting.


    "And now look at you," Max said, brushing his knuckles off. "You just had to go and ruin my damn plans."


    ¡ª


    Outside the school grounds, Abby was walking briskly beside one of the science teachers.


    "I can''t believe it," the teacher muttered, clearly annoyed. "Skipping first period just to pull this kind of stunt? I seriously worry for the next generation."


    They quickened their pace. The bell for first period had already rung, and although the teacher didn''t have a class to supervise at the moment, Abby was missing hers.


    "You''re sure this is where they went?" the teacher asked.


    "Yeah, the music storage room," Abby confirmed with a firm nod.


    Just moments earlier, Sam had rushed up to her in a panic. Breathless, nervous, and nearly in tears, he had poured out everything he knew¡ªwhat he had seen, what he feared was happening. Abby had believed him instantly. Sam might have been shy and awkward, but he wasn''t the type to make something like that up.


    She also knew the truth: if she went to stop the bullies herself, it wouldn''t make a difference. Not in this school. They''d just come back worse than before.


    After all, Abby was a nobody in the school¡ªno influence, no reputation. But unlike Sam, there was one thing she coulddo: go straight to a teacher. And that''s exactly what she did.


    To her surprise, the teacher acted quickly. But she wasn''t expecting much to come of it. Most of the teachers at this school turned a blind eye unless the problem was shoved directly in front of them. As long as it didn''t happen in the classroom or during school hours, they considered it not their responsibility.


    ''Sam said they usually take their victims to the Music Storage room,'' Abby thought. ''He was sure of it...''


    The teacher reached the door and unlocked it, pushing it open.


    Inside, the room was completely empty.


    "What...?" Abby stepped in quickly, her eyes darting around the space. It was small, cramped, and filled with instruments and old chairs¡ªbut no sign of Max or Joe anywhere.


    The teacher crossed his arms and sighed.


    "Abby," he said, his voice laced with disappointment. "It''s first period. Are you telling me the truth? Did you really seeanyone come in here, or did someone just tell you something?" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her guilty expression said it all. Abby looked away, unable to hold eye contact. She was a terrible liar.


    "Let''s head back to class immediately," the teacher said, already turning around. "You''re lucky I''m not punishing you for missing part of first period."


    Abby trailed behind, trying her best not to fall further into trouble¡ªbut she couldn''t help glancing over her shoulder, again and again.


    ''Sam wouldn''t lie to me¡­ so what happened to Max? Where is he?''


    From the far corner of the music storage room, hidden behind several grand pianos stacked like forgotten relics, Max stepped out¡ªhis arm tightly wrapped around Joe''s mouth.


    He waited a couple of minutes after the coast was clear before delivering a sharp kick to Joe''s back, sending him crashing to the floor. As Joe groaned and scrambled, Max swiftly mounted him, pinning him in place.


    "What the hell is going on?!" Joe shouted in a panic. "This is crazy¡ªwhat are you doing? Are you trying to kidnap me or something? And who the heck even are you?! Are you really the Max I know?!"


    "The Max you know?" Max muttered darkly, gripping Joe''s hand and holding it upright in front of his face. "The Max you knew is dead. And I''m trying to find out why."


    Max leaned in closer, his voice steady and cold.


    "You don''t get to ask the questions now. I do. And for every lie you tell¡­" He tightened his grip, pushing Joe''s fingers apart. "I''ll break one of these."


    Joe''s face paled. "This is insane!" he stammered. "You¡ªyou wouldn''t!"


    "I would," Max said without hesitation. "So let''s start simple. Why were you and the others targeting me?"

 Chapter 25 - 25: Whats My Name?

    Max sat firmly on top of Joe. They were about the same size, but with the damage Max had already dealt, Joe was struggling. No matter how much he squirmed, Max shifted his weight just right, keeping him pinned with brutal efficiency.


    "Answer the question!" Max snapped, placing his hand over Joe''s index finger.


    "What do you mean?! Why are we targeting you?!" Joe shouted in desperation. "It''s because it''s you! You''re weak¡ªyou never fight back! You''re an easy target! As for why it started... I don''t know! I just followed Ko''s lead, that''s all!"


    ''Just as I thought,'' Max mused. ''A follower. A sheep. Not even on Max''s list. Probably bullied him just like the others¡­ but never had the guts to think for himself.''


    "Alright, then answer this," Max said, leaning in closer. "What''s my name?"


    "Your name?" Joe''s voice cracked. His entire body tensed, confused. It seemed like such a simple question. "It''s¡­ Max Smith. You''re Max Smith."


    Max''s grip around Joe''s finger tightened¡ªand without a second''s hesitation, he yanked.


    CRACK.


    A sickening crunch filled the air. Joe let out a piercing scream.


    "ARGHH!" Joe screamed, his voice echoing off the storage room walls. He wasn''t even sure what hurt more¡ªthe sharp pain or the shock of it all. Feeling the unnatural bend in his finger, there was no doubt. It was broken.


    Before he could recover, he felt Max''s grip shift, his other hand now holding onto a different finger.


    "Why¡­ why?!" Joe sobbed. "I told you the truth! Your name is Max Smith! Max Smith!"


    "I know," Max said calmly. "But here''s the thing¡ªI needed you to understand that my threats aren''t empty. That I''m serious."


    His tone was cold, measured, far too composed for someone in the middle of torturing a classmate.


    "Now you''ll think twice about lying. Because every time you do, you''ll remember this pain. And wonder if I''ll take another finger."


    Joe was trembling. His mind raced with a single thought: This guy is nuts. Completely unhinged. Did all the bullying finally push him over the edge? Has he been secretly training, waiting for the right moment to explode?


    Max leaned in, eyes narrowed. "Since you''re so good at following orders, then answer this¡ªwhy is Ko targeting me? Did he ever tell you? Ever hint at a reason?"


    Joe gulped, his voice barely a whisper.


    "I¡­ I¡­" Joe stammered, fear overtaking every inch of his body. He couldn''t say he didn''t know¡ªhe wouldn''t. Not after what had just happened. If he gave another empty answer, another finger might go.


    So he searched, desperately digging through his memories for anything¡ªany scrap of useful information.


    "Ko¡­ Ko follows orders from the school''s top dog," Joe finally said. "He''s not in our class. He''s in Class 5A. Every class has a leader¡ªKo runs ours¡ªbut they all answer to him. The guy in 5A."


    "If anyone knows the real reason we target you," Joe continued, "it''s Ko¡­ or that guy."


    Max took that in silently, nodding to himself. It reminded him of his own school days¡ªa structure just like this. Each class had a so-called ''boss'' to keep the delinquents in check, and all of them reported to one kingpin.


    Back then¡­ that kingpin had been him.


    "I see," Max muttered. "So in the end¡­ Ko is the one I need to go after."


    Then his tone changed slightly. "One more thing. Do any of these names mean anything to you?"


    He didn''t wait for an answer. Max began listing off the names¡ªthe names from the video. The ones the original Max Stern had blamed. He went down the list, watching Joe''s eyes, until¡ª


    "Stop!" Joe shouted. "I know one¡­ the one you said before. Dipter Carl. I know who that is."


    It was the last name Max had mentioned, and he was grateful he''d finally hit something¡ªa second name from the list. Finally, someone other than Ko.


    "He''s the one Ko answers to," Joe confirmed. "The leader of this whole school."


    Max could understand if one bully had it out for someone. Schools were breeding grounds for people looking to feel powerful¡ªwhether to vent frustration, inflate their ego, or compensate for their miserable lives. But that kind of bullying usually stayed within a classroom, within a clique.


    This wasn''t that.


    Dipter wasn''t even in the same class. There was no real reason for him to be involved. And yet, he was. He was the top guy in the school, and he''d taken interest in Max?


    ''Why would someone like that target you?'' Max wondered. ''And why would so many people¡­ people who barely even know you¡­ all have it out for you?''


    The deeper Max dug into this life, the more twisted things became. Based on the information he was piecing together, this wasn''t just schoolyard bullying. It was a full-on setup¡ªand it was starting to feel far more dangerous than he had originally thought.


    Technically, Max had already lost his life once. And now, he had a growing suspicion that the other Max¡ªthe one whose body he now inhabited, had nearly lost his as well.


    And if that happened again, he had a feeling there wouldn''t be a third chance.


    He needed to be careful. More than ever.


    Finally, Max stood up, stepping off of Joe, but as Joe tried to rise, Max pressed his foot down firmly on his back, pinning him to the ground once more.


    "Not so fast," Max said. "You''re the only person I know right now who might be useful to me. So you''re going to do a little digging."


    "Digging?" Joe groaned. "Come on, man. You''re trying to drag me into something deeper¡ªlook, I swear, I won''t touch you again. Just leave me out of it."


    Max crouched down slightly, his voice low and calm. "No. You''re going to keep playing your part. Keep acting like nothing''s changed. Keep treating me the same."


    "But," he continued, "while you''re doing that¡­ you''ll also be my eyes and ears inside your little pretend gang."


    Joe''s eyes widened in panic. "What? No¡ªyou don''t get it. You don''t know what Dipter''s like. If he finds out¡ªif he even suspects¡ªhe''ll¡­"


    "I''ll pay you." Max cut him off.


    Joe blinked.


    "You send me your E-wallet," Max said coolly. "Five hundred a month. As long as you keep your mouth shut and do everything I tell you to."


    Five hundred wasn''t life-changing. But to a high schooler, it was money most of them would never see all at once. Max could already tell, he didn''t need Joe to answer. He lifted his foot.


    Joe was already reaching for his phone.


    "All right¡­ I''ll do it," Joe muttered, holding out his phone with his E-wallet QR code pulled up.


    Eventually, both Max and Joe returned to the classroom just as first period had ended. With the teachers rotating in and out between classes, their late return slipped under the radar, exactly how Max had planned it.


    Joe kept one hand buried in his pocket. He had already made a quick visit to the nurse''s office, claiming he''d tripped and landed on his hand. It was now wrapped and braced, but the real reason behind the injury couldn''t be revealed, not even to Ko.


    Fortunately, some of the swelling in his face had gone down during the break, and with enough acting, he might just sell it.


    As they walked past the desks, Joe gave Max a half-hearted kick to the back, enough to make a scene, but not enough to hurt.


    "And stay in your seat, got it?" Joe barked. His voice carried just enough force to fool the crowd, though the tremble in his tone was still there for anyone really listening.


    Ko laughed from his desk as he glanced over. "You two were gone for a while. What¡ªhave too much fun or something?" His eyes narrowed when he focused on Max. "Wait a minute¡­ I told you to make him suffer. He barely looks touched." Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Joe was tense, he could feel his heart thumping so hard it was like it wanted to leap out of his throat.


    "Oh, that¡­ yeah, a teacher showed up in the middle of it," Joe lied smoothly. "We had to cut things short. They sent us back to class, so¡­ I didn''t get to do much."


    Remembering the earlier interruption, he figured it was a believable enough excuse to sell.


    "I knew it," Ko muttered, clenching his fist. "Damn teacher got in the way, huh?"


    His eyes drifted across the room, locking onto Sam, who sat stiffly in the corner, clearly trying to make himself invisible.


    "Then that means¡­" Ko growled. "That damn pig opened his mouth and told someone."


    His eyes narrowed with venom. "He''s going to pay for that."

 Chapter 26 - 26: End Of Day

    When Sam saw Max again, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. There were no visible bruises, no signs of severe injuries. He had been worried they''d rough him up so badly that Max wouldn''t even be able to return to school.


    ''I don''t know if talking to Abby did anything... but even if it didn''t, I''m just glad he''s okay,'' Sam thought, letting out a small smile.


    "What the hell is that pig smiling about?" Ko sneered as the bell rang, signaling the start of the first break.


    "He''s probably daydreaming about catching some bacon," Mo chuckled. "Wait¡ªsince he''s a pig himself, would that count as cannibalism?"


    The group erupted into laughter, except for one who kept glancing at Max, watching his every move with quiet caution.


    Break time meant the usual torment. The mockery continued like it was part of the daily schedule. Sam and Max were forced to go along with whatever Ko and his crew demanded, even if it meant harassing other students on their behalf.


    They made Sam ask out several girls in the class, recording every rejection and look of disgust on their phones, treating it all like some sick game.


    To them, Sam and Max weren''t classmates, they were the day''s entertainment.


    And when the usual taunts weren''t enough, that''s when the hitting started. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The group had decided to play rock-paper-scissors with Sam and Max¡ªbut with a twist. Whoever lost would get slapped by the winner. There were no other rules, and participation wasn''t optional.


    Of course, when Sam or Max managed to win, their slaps were light, barely a touch on the cheek.


    But when it was the other way around? The slaps came full force.


    Oddly enough, for some reason, every time Max was chosen for punishment, Joe was the one picked to do it.


    ''Damn it, Ko¡­ do you have any idea what you''re doing?'' Joe screamed in his head. ''You keep making me mess with this monster¡­ and now he''s the one paying me! Will you quit it already!?''


    This time, Joe had thrown scissors.


    Max threw paper.


    Ko and Mo burst into laughter, cheering like it was the best thing they''d seen all day, while internally, Joe was crying for mercy.


    Forced to play along, Joe stepped forward and gave Max a slap across the face. It had some force to it, just enough to sell it. But not too much. He even closed his eyes as he delivered it, bracing for what might come later.


    Finally, the school day had come to an end, the best part of the day for both Max and Sam.


    ''I''ve managed to make real progress today,'' Max thought, walking out the front of the school. ''I learned about someone else involved. But if Dipter is the one giving Ko orders¡­ then someone must be pulling Dipter''s strings too.''


    Still, the biggest mystery remained.


    ''What I just can''t figure out is¡ªwhy didn''t Max use his money to fix any of this? He had the means. Why suffer in silence?''


    As always, Max made his usual detour to the gym, needing to clear his mind before deciding what to do next.


    Meanwhile, Sam had gone straight home. But his day wasn''t over just yet.


    As he walked down the street and stepped through the front door of his house, the familiar chaos of dinner service hit him immediately.


    "Order for table five!" a woman shouted from the kitchen, her graying hair tied back in a messy bun.


    "I know, I know, honey! Can you take it out yourself? I''m still finishing the noodles for the delivery!" an older man yelled back, a bandana tied around his head and sweat on his brow.


    The moment they saw Sam enter, both his parents looked visibly relieved.


    "You''re back! Perfect timing!" his mom called out.


    Without missing a beat, Sam dropped his bag and rushed past them, weaving through the cramped tables toward the kitchen to help.


    "Sam!" his mother shouted. "What happened to your shirt? Is it your friends again? I told you, you need to stop letting them do that¡­ we can''t afford to buy another one."


    "I know, Mom, I know¡­" Sam replied quickly, already heading up the stairs. "Let me just get changed."


    Sam''s parents ran a small restaurant that specialized in grilled BBQ skewers, light snacks, and beer. It wasn''t much¡ªbut it was theirs. The place was small, with only four tables, and even on good days, it was rarely packed. Often, there were long stretches with no customers at all.


    Still, they didn''t complain.


    They made enough to get by, doing something they loved¡ªsomething they had always dreamed of. It wasn''t easy, but they were proud of it.


    Moments later, Sam came back downstairs, now wearing a simple apron. Without needing to be asked, he went straight to clearing one of the tables, then moved to the kitchen to help carry out food and serve the customers who were seated.


    As they watched him, both of Sam''s parents smiled¡ªbut behind those smiles, there was guilt.


    Because no matter how grateful they were for their son''s help, it never sat right with them that he had to help. That, during every busy moment, Sam was there working instead of resting, studying, or being a normal teenager.


    They simply didn''t make enough to hire anyone. And even if they tried, no one wanted to work for just two hours a day. So the only option left¡­ was Sam.


    They wished he could focus on studying, on chasing his dreams¡ªor at the very least, spend time with friends, just being a regular teenager. Sam always told them it was fine, that he didn''t mind helping out. That he liked being part of the family business.


    But no matter how often he said it, it still pained them deeply.


    An hour passed. The dinner rush was over. Just like most nights, the restaurant was quiet again¡ªstill open, but with only the occasional customer coming in here and there.


    "So¡­ how was school today?" his mother asked gently as she wiped down the counter.


    "It was the same as always," Sam replied with a shrug. "Nothing special happened. Just¡­ school stuff. Stupid stuff."


    His mother smiled faintly. She could tell something was a little different¡ªhe seemed a bit more cheerful than usual. She wanted to ask more, but just then, the bell above the door chimed.


    They both turned to look¡ªand saw three boys walk into the restaurant.


    "Oh, is this your first time here?" she asked kindly, her customer-service voice kicking in.


    "Yeah, actually," one of them replied with a wide grin. "Sam was the one who told us about this place."


    Sam''s heart dropped the second he heard that voice.


    School had ended. This was supposed to be his time¡ªhis escape. The one part of the day where everything could be quiet, where he could forget about the torment, the humiliation¡­ and just breathe.


    But as he slowly lifted his head, he saw the worst of it confirmed.


    Standing at the entrance, that familiar smug grin stretched across his face¡­


    Was Ko.

 Chapter 27 - 27: Were Best Friends

    "Oh? Sam invited you?" his mother asked, eyeing the three boys as they entered. She noticed right away, they were wearing the same school uniform as her son.


    "Ah, I see. You must be Sam''s school friends! He''s never brought anyone home before, so this is quite a surprise. Please, please, have a seat!" she said warmly, motioning them toward one of the small tables.


    Meanwhile, Sam''s entire body trembled.


    The people he hated most in the world were now in his home, sitting in his family''s restaurant, just a few feet away from his parents.


    And yet¡­ he couldn''t act out. He didn''t want to cause a scene or raise suspicion. Seeing how kindly his mother was treating them, how genuinely happy she seemed, it was tearing him apart inside.


    "Sam, go on and sit with them," she encouraged. "I''ll bring you all something to eat!"


    She then turned to head into the kitchen, completely unaware of the tension hanging in the air.


    "Yeah, come on, Sam. Don''t be shy," Ko said with that same twisted smile.


    That smile never left his face.


    Not wanting to make things worse, Sam reluctantly moved and sat down at the table, right next to Ko. They were side by side, while Joe and Mo took the opposite seats, already snickering to themselves.


    Ko casually threw an arm around Sam''s shoulder. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Look at this, us friends hanging out at your house. We should''ve done this sooner," he said with a grin, pulling Sam in closer.


    Then, in a low whisper near his ear, Ko added, "I told you¡­ if you weren''t careful, you''d pay for it."


    As Ko pulled away, Sam''s mother returned carrying a metal tray loaded with grilled skewers and snacks. His father followed behind, placing a few soft drinks on the table with a smile.


    "You''re all welcome to stay as long as you like," Sam''s mother said warmly. "It''s the first time he''s ever brought friends home, so please, make yourselves comfortable."


    "And don''t even think about paying," his father added. "This one''s on us."


    With that, the two of them stepped away, leaving the boys to dig into the food without hesitation.


    Sam sat frozen, watching as they devoured everything without a hint of shame.


    His heart sank.


    Even though his family struggled every day to keep the business running, his parents had still offered them a free meal. They had treated them with kindness, as honored guests.


    And yet¡­ Ko and his crew had ruined his school shirt, humiliated him time and time again, and now were happily eating into his family''s livelihood.


    Why?


    Why couldn''t they just leave him alone?


    "Hey, this food is really good," Mo said, licking his fingers. "No wonder you grew up to be such a fat pig if you had this around you all the time."


    "Right, right," Ko chuckled. "Since the food''s so great, I think we should swing by every day. Your parents did say we were welcome, didn''t they?"


    "Every day?" Sam echoed, his voice trembling.


    He imagined the toll this would take on his parents, the bright, hopeful smiles on their faces. If these boys came every day, it would wear them down, both emotionally and financially. The thought made his stomach twist in knots. He couldn''t take it. He just couldn''t.


    "Please," Sam finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please¡­ don''t come back. Please¡­"


    Ko was just about to bite into another meat skewer, but froze the moment the words left Sam''s mouth.


    "Our servant is making requests now?" Ko said slowly, lowering the stick back onto the tray. "You should be grateful we''re visiting you like this."


    Mo and Joe stopped chewing, glancing at each other nervously as Ko stood from his seat.


    "Well," Ko said, brushing off his pants, "if this is going to be our last visit, we might as well make it a memorable one, right?"


    With a smirk, he turned and walked toward the counter.


    For some reason, seeing Ko act so casually made Sam''s heart pound, as if it were about to leap out of his chest.


    "Hello, sir," Ko said with a polite bow. "I know this might be a lot to ask after everything you''ve already done for us, but since it''s our first time hanging out with Sam and we''re having such a great time¡­"


    Ko walked over to the fridge by the side and opened it, pulling out a bottle. But it wasn''t just any bottle, it was an alcoholic beverage.


    "I understand if it''s too much," Ko added, flashing a charming smile. "It''s just that¡­ it''s a really good day, and I thought maybe we could celebrate."


    Sam''s mother''s expression tensed. There was a good reason for it, they were all seventeen, and the legal drinking age was eighteen.


    "Don''t worry about it, Nancy," Sam''s father called from the kitchen. "I was drinking at fourteen. Kids always sneak a drink or two at parties when their parents aren''t looking. At least this way, we can keep an eye on them. Better here than out on the streets doing who knows what."


    Given his reasoning, Sam''s mother hesitated¡­ then simply smiled and nodded.


    "You two are the best!" Ko said as he grabbed three more glass bottles and brought them back to the table.


    Once he returned, Ko popped the caps and the group started drinking, everyone except Sam.


    ''What is he doing?'' Sam thought. ''Is he really planning to never come back? Is he just trying to get as much free stuff as possible? If that''s the case¡­ then fine. I''ll bear with it for one day.''


    The group continued laughing, drinking, and snapping photos and videos on Ko''s phone. They were clearly having a blast¡ªagain, everyone except Sam.


    When the drinks were nearly finished, Ko stretched his arms out and stood up.


    "Ah, I need some fresh air. My face is turning a bit red. You guys stay here and chill," Ko said as he stepped outside the restaurant.


    Once outside, he looked around, his smirk only growing wider. Pulling out his phone, he brought it to his ear. After a few rings, the other end picked up.


    "Hi, yeah. I''d like to make a report about a place. It seems they''re serving alcohol to underage kids."

 Chapter 28 - 28: Never Bullied Again

    Ko returned to the restaurant and rejoined the others at the table. In front of him, his bottle of alcohol still had a quarter left, while the others had already finished theirs. Most of the food was gone too, and the group had been there long enough for everyone to start wondering when Ko was finally going to wrap things up and leave.


    That was when two men walked through the front door.


    "Welcome, how can I he¡ª" Sam''s mother stopped mid-sentence the moment she saw them. Both were dressed in uniform: black body armor over white shirts, with the word POLICE clearly displayed on the front and back.


    From the corner of her eye, she glanced toward the table.


    "Looks like the report was accurate after all," one of the officers said. "Ma''am, are you the owner of this establishment?"


    Sam''s father rushed over, joining his wife. The two of them looked like they had just seen a ghost.


    The officers explained they had received an anonymous report that alcohol had been served to minors. And it didn''t take much investigation, the teenagers were still sitting at the table in their school uniforms.


    Still, the officers had taken each of the children aside, making every single one of them give statements about what had happened, as well as additional details to confirm their ages and identities.


    After that, the students were free to go while the police remained behind to speak with Sam''s parents.


    "It''s a shame about what happened," Ko said as he turned to Sam. "It''s a shame this had to be our last visit¡­ I look forward to seeing you tomorrow and hearing all about it."


    With a casual wave, Ko walked off, followed by the other two, acting as if nothing had happened at all.


    ''Did Ko plan all of this?'' Sam thought. ''I''m such an idiot. The police have never come here before, it had to be him. He must''ve been the one who called them.''


    As minors, they''d only get a slap on the wrist for something like this, it wasn''t a big deal for them. But for his parents¡­


    Just as Sam finished that thought, he saw the officers walk past him and exit the restaurant.


    "What are we going to do?" he heard his mother say softly from behind.


    When he turned around, he could see his father sitting at one of the tables, both of his hands pressed against the sides of his head.


    "Mom¡­ Dad," Sam called out. "Is everything okay? What did they say?"


    "It''s over," his father replied. "The police said we''re going to lose our license. We''re going to have to shut down. And on top of that, there''s a fine, ten thousand dollars."


    Now Sam''s head was spinning. It was far worse than he had imagined. Losing their license¡­ what was his family going to do for income now?


    On top of that, how were they even going to afford to pay the fine? One small act of kindness had cost them everything.


    Walking over, Sam wanted to say something, anything that could help, something that might ease the situation.


    "Sam¡­ go to your room," his father said. "I know this isn''t your fault, but I can''t help but think¡ªif your friends hadn''t come here today, all of this could''ve been avoided¡­"


    "They''re not my¡­" Sam couldn''t get the words out. What was the point of revealing that they weren''t his friends now? The damage was already done, and saying that wouldn''t fix anything.


    "Please, Sam¡­ please just get out of my sight."


    All of the emotions hit Sam at once, and he ran straight past his parents, up the stairs, and into his room. He didn''t turn on the lights. Instead, he climbed onto his bed and curled up in the corner, wrapping his blanket tightly around him.


    Why¡­ why is my life like this? Why? I don''t care what happens at school. I don''t care what happens to me! Sam screamed in his head.


    Why did they have to come to my home and ruin my family''s life? What did I do to deserve this?


    Sam continued to rock back and forth, thinking about his life, thinking about everything that had happened.


    It''s my fault. It''s my fault that now my family is suffering too. If they never had me¡­ if I wasn''t here¡­ then they would''ve been fine. Everything would''ve been fine.


    His emotions swirled endlessly, back and forth, but the worst part of it all was knowing that it wasn''t over.


    And when I go back to school tomorrow¡­ they''ll laugh. They''ll hit me and beat me, and do it all over again. This pain¡­ everything¡­ it will never go away, Sam thought, as he remained curled up in the darkness.


    The next day, Max arrived at school just like he normally would have. Although this time, he came a little later than usual. He had realized that arriving early only gave the others more opportunities to bully him.


    My training''s been going well. This body''s been adapting to my workouts quicker than I thought, Max smiled to himself. I guess Max must''ve had good genetics, he just never worked out a day in his life.


    Entering the classroom, Max looked over at the three troublemakers as he took his seat in the corner. As he glanced around, he noticed something else, right next to him, the seat was empty.


    Oh? Is Sam sick today? Max wondered. Or maybe they beat him a little too hard last night, so he''s decided to take a day off. I wouldn''t blame him. But if that''s the case, it might put a bigger target on my back... no one to share the pain with.


    Just then, the teacher walked in and shut the door behind him. He strode straight to the podium and slammed his book down on the edge, silencing the room instantly.


    "Listen up, everyone. I have an announcement to make, and it''s important that you all hear it," the teacher said, his voice more serious than usual. He looked up from his notes, adjusting his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his nose. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s unfortunate, but I have to inform you that our fellow classmate, Sam Churn¡­ has passed away."

 Chapter 29 - 29: Helpful Sam

    Sam is dead!


    The words hit Max like a punch to the gut, a strange and heavy feeling anchoring itself deep in his stomach. He had lost people before, people close to him, people important to the White Tiger Gang. He''d thought he was numb to that kind of pain by now.


    But hearing this, hearing that Sam, someone younger than Max was when he''d lost his own life, was gone, it did something to him. Something he hadn''t expected.


    Memories came flooding in, uninvited. That hopeful smile on Sam''s face when they stood together outside the school gates. The way Sam had told him he''d take a few hits to repay him someday. It had been genuine. Honest.


    Max''s fists clenched tightly as that image of Sam smiling flashed in his mind again.


    Could I have stopped this? he thought, anger burning low in his chest. Was I so focused on learning the truth about Max Stern''s life that I didn''t notice what was happening right in front of me?


    His eyes drifted toward the three he knew were responsible. For once, they weren''t laughing. They weren''t smirking or joking. They were stiff, silent, maybe even shocked.


    And Max could only wonder¡­ was this guilt? Or fear?


    Was it because of them? Max''s thoughts spiraled. But both Sam and the real Max Stern had been bullied for years. It couldn''t just be that¡­ Could it? Did something push him over the edge? Or¡­ was it something darker, something like what happened to the real Max Stern?


    He took a deep breath, but it felt like his brain was spinning out of control. He was starting to overthink everything, chasing answers in circles. And worst of all, he didn''t even know how Sam had died.


    "The incident is a difficult one for the school," the teacher said, his tone tight and serious. "Due to particular circumstances, each and every one of you will be interviewed by the police. I expect full cooperation. Tell them everything you know."


    The police? Max''s heart skipped. So this isn''t just a tragic accident¡­ this is something more.


    Right then, a woman and a man in uniform stepped into the classroom. Their presence instantly changed the atmosphere. Quiet fell heavy over the room as they explained the process. A separate classroom was being prepared for the interviews, and students would be called in, one by one, to give their statements.


    Parents had already been contacted. The procedure was official, and there was no avoiding it.


    "For the rest of the day, all classes are cancelled," the teacher announced. "A schedule will be posted here for when your interview with the officers is due. Make sure you''re back in this room by then, and no one is to leave the school grounds. Understood?"


    The first name was called for an interview. As expected, Max''s name, and the trio''s weren''t anywhere near the top of the list. It looked like they''d be called closer to the end of the day.


    The moment the police officers stepped out of the room, a wave of whispers broke out like a rising tide. Students leaned across desks, heads low, their voices barely above a murmur. Speculation spread quickly.


    Most were wondering the same thing Max was.


    What really happened to Sam?


    And more importantly, had the trio pushed him too far?


    From his corner, Max kept his eyes locked on them. Ko, for once, wasn''t grinning.


    "Shit, shit, shit," Ko muttered under his breath, biting at his thumbnail, eyes darting across the room. What the hell was wrong with that guy? Why''d he have to go and do something like that? That damned pig''s causing problems even after he''s dead!


    "What are we gonna do?" Mo hissed, leaning in close.


    Without a word, Ko pulled out his phone, fingers flying across the screen.


    "All of us are in this together," he said in a low growl. "There''s only one person we can go to now."


    Joe leaned in, eyes narrowing when he saw the name appear on the screen: Dipter. The head of the school.


    Even Ko''s hands were trembling slightly as he sent the message. It didn''t take long for a reply to come back.


    Ko stood up, voice cold and clipped.


    "Dipter wants to meet us. At the cage."


    Without hesitation, the three of them rose from their seats and slipped toward the door. Max watched, eyes narrowed.


    The cage wasn''t just any spot on school grounds, it was the spot. Technically, it was meant to be an indoor soccer area, complete with two worn-down goalposts. But no one played there anymore. Instead, it had become the unofficial hangout for the school''s worst delinquents.


    As Max watched the trio slip out of the classroom and head toward the cage, his thoughts began to spiral.


    Should I follow them? he wondered, muscles tense. Their behavior today is way too suspicious. But if I tail them and get caught¡­ it could turn into a disaster. Especially with the police around.


    Still, something told him none of them would risk doing anything stupid while the authorities were present.


    Then again, I shouldn''t be causing trouble either¡­ not today.


    Maybe he could just ask Joe afterward, find out what they discussed, if he was willing to talk. But something about this moment itched at the back of Max''s mind. He needed a clearer picture. He needed to see it for himself.


    So, he stood up and quietly slipped out the classroom door, keeping a careful distance as he followed. Eyes narrowed, posture calm, he stayed focused. All he needed to know was who they were meeting. That might be the answer to everything.


    But just then-


    "Max!" a voice called out behind him.


    He froze.


    So focused on tracking the trio, he hadn''t even noticed someone approaching. One second of distraction, and they''d already turned the corner.


    Damn it¡­ I lost them. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When Max turned around, he saw her, the same girl who had stopped him in the hallway once before. Abby.


    Her soft eyes met his. "Max¡­ are you okay? Is everything alright?"


    "Do you know what happened?" Max asked, skipping the small talk.


    "You mean about Sam?" she replied gently. "Yeah. I think the whole school knows by now."


    Of course they do, Max thought. With phones in everyone''s hands, there''s no such thing as secrets anymore.


    Abby shifted her weight, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "It''s just¡­ it seemed like you two were close. I mean, I saw you talking to him a lot. I thought you were friends, so I''ve been wondering¡­ how are you holding up?"


    Max glanced away. "It''s hard to process," he admitted. "It caught me off guard. I didn''t expect something like this to happen."


    Abby nodded, her ponytail swaying slightly. "Sam was a good person. You know¡­ when he thought you were in trouble, he came running to find me. He was really worried about you."


    Max''s brows knit together. "When was this?"


    "Yesterday," she said, voice quiet. "He said your classmates had pulled you out of class. He was scared they were going to hurt you¡­ so the two of us went to get a teacher."


    Max''s chest tightened. Abby had no idea, no idea what that one moment might have cost Sam.


    Max''s mind flashed back to the moment in the music room, when he''d been with Joe and the teacher had shown up with Abby. At the time, he''d brushed it off as a coincidence. But now, hearing the truth, he realized why the teacher had really come.


    It was because of Sam.


    Like a puzzle piece locking into place, everything clicked. And with it came that sick feeling twisting deep in Max''s stomach.


    The look on their faces¡­ the panic Ko and the others had when they heard the news¡­ it wasn''t normal. It wasn''t shock, it was fear. They knew something. They''d done something.


    And now, a terrifying thought crept into Max''s mind like a whisper he couldn''t ignore.


    Could all of this¡­ really have happened just because Sam was trying to help me?


    The realization would lead to a change in Max''s entire life going forward.

 Chapter 30 - 30: Time To Act

    Ko, Joe, and Mo had finally made it to the cage outside. The area was fairly empty, while a few students loitered nearby, the cage itself was usually packed. Especially when Dipter called a meeting. Normally, it meant every delinquent in the school would gather here, but not this time.


    And somehow, that made the whole thing feel even more personal.


    Instead of a crowd, Dipter stood there with just two people by his side. One of them was a big guy, not exactly muscular, but broad and solid. His short-cropped hair faded cleanly on the sides, with a messy tuft at the top. The moment Ko saw him, he tensed.


    Jay Woods.


    One of the strongest students in the entire school.


    Back when the school was deciding on its head, it had been a toss-up between Jay and Dipter. People had taken sides. There were even rumors of a fight that never happened. In the end, Dipter was the one chosen to lead.


    And then there was the other student, taller, leaner, with dyed green hair and a mask that covered the bottom half of his face. Snide.


    Everyone knew that name. Not just because of how he looked, but because of the rumors. That he''d stabbed someone from a rival school. That he was dangerous. Unpredictable.


    Seeing both of them here now, standing quietly beside Dipter, sent a message loud and clear:


    This meeting wasn''t just personal, it was serious.


    Then there was Dipter himself, cool as ever, a cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth, both hands shoved deep in his pockets. His sharp, wide eyes held a coldness that could make anyone freeze, and his slicked-back hair revealed a prominent forehead that somehow made him look even more intimidating.


    He was the head of the school, the undisputed top dog of all the delinquents. The one who called the shots. Even Ko took orders from him.


    "You''ve gotten yourselves into one hell of a mess, haven''t you?" Dipter said, his voice low and cutting. "I can''t believe it. How the hell did you guys manage to get rid of the one kid we weren''t even targeting?"


    Ko stared down at his feet, unable to bring himself to meet Dipter''s gaze.


    "Look at me," Dipter ordered.


    Instantly, Ko''s head snapped up, his eyes locking with Dipter''s.


    "I already know what happened," Dipter continued. "You lot were having way too much fun playing king of your little sandbox. Now look what you''ve done, I have to clean up the mess."


    He took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stepping on it.


    "Luckily, I''ve managed to smooth things over¡­ for now. Gotten some advice too. You''re going to tell the truth about what you did to the kid."


    All three of them froze in shock.


    "The truth?" Ko echoed, confused. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "There are way too many statements from your classmates. Too many kids who saw what you were doing. But don''t be stupid, play it down. Don''t make it sound like it was a big deal. Got it?" Dipter said, his voice sharp enough to cut through steel.


    "Show them you regret what you did. Act like you never expected things to go this far," Dipter said, flicking ash off his cigarette. "All three of you are just kids. Since they''re ruling it a suicide, it''s going to be tough for them to pin it on you anyway.


    "But if they do? At worst, you''ll get a slap on the wrist."


    He let out a long, tired sigh, like even this cleanup job was starting to annoy him.


    "I don''t think I need to spell this out. Keep your heads down while the police are here. And once they''re gone, make sure you handle the right target next time. No more mistakes. Do exactly what you''re told."


    Times like this were when the trio felt grateful, grateful that someone like Dipter was at the top, someone who could keep things under control when everything was about to blow up.


    ****


    The trio eventually returned to class, walking in with more composure than before, though they still looked uneasy. The police investigations were still in progress, students being called one by one to give statements.


    It was all being done alphabetically by last name, which meant Max Stern was near the bottom of the list. He sat quietly in his corner, eyes tracking the trio as they were called out one at a time, his mind racing through everything that had happened.


    ''I remember when I was in school before¡­ if the teachers ever found out about stuff like this, about bullying at this level, it never made anything better,'' Max thought. ''It made everything ten times worse.''


    Things changed when I became head of the school, Max thought, his jaw tight. I shut all of that crap down. But if the teachers find out Sam was the one who called them yesterday¡­ crap. And I already feel guilty enough for not doing anything.


    "Max Smith!"


    His name echoed through the room, the teacher''s voice breaking his thoughts. It was his turn.


    As Max stepped into the hallway, the teacher walked ahead, guiding him down the corridor toward one of the empty rooms set aside for the interviews. But just before they reached it, someone stepped out of another classroom up ahead.


    Ko.


    Max''s eyes narrowed. But it wasn''t just Ko, there was someone standing beside him.


    A man dressed in a sleek gray suit, his hair perfectly styled, a subtle sheen on his polished shoes. He wore a gold name badge clipped to his jacket pocket.


    Max squinted.


    Odin Law Firm?


    His thoughts scrambled for context.


    No way. That''s one of the biggest law firms in the entire country. Everyone knows them. They''re the kind of people who get celebrities out of messes the public never even hears about. And not just celebs, some of the more powerful groups I knew used firms like Odin to make problems vanish. Hell, we used someone just like them in the White Tigers.


    His eyes flicked back to Ko, who was smirking like nothing in the world could touch him.


    Just what kind of protection do these kids have?


    Their prices aren''t something kids from a random public school could afford, Max thought, eyes narrowing. It''s starting to become clearer now¡­ Someone is definitely behind all of this.


    The presence of a lawyer from Odin Law Firm, one of the most prestigious in the country, only confirmed what Max had been suspecting. Whoever was pulling the strings had real power. And with legal backup like that, Ko and the others weren''t going to face consequences for anything they''d done. Not unless someone made them.


    But more than that, it all but confirmed something else for Max.


    They were responsible. I''m sure of it now.


    The moment Max stepped into the interview room, his eyes scanned the setup. A camera sat on a tripod in the corner. A plain table. A police officer. And a teacher stationed nearby, likely as a school representative.


    After he took his seat, the officer began to speak, reading out his rights, explaining the procedure in calm, even tones. Max nodded along, confirming he understood.


    The questions started out basic, name, age, class, details to verify identity. Then the tone shifted.


    "Max, according to several reports from other students, it''s been said that you were also being bullied, along with Sam, in your classroom. Can you confirm whether that''s true? And if so, could you describe what kind of things were done to the two of you?"


    Max stared ahead, silent for a moment, the weight of it all pressing down on him. He thought carefully, piecing together what needed to be said.


    Then, slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.


    "They''ll be tried as minors, right?" Max asked, his eyes locked on the officers. "Can I ask something else? Was Sam''s death ruled a suicide? Did he leave anything behind that pointed to them being at fault? And¡­ if I say anything, will it really change the outcome?"


    The two officers exchanged a quick, surprised glance before one of them responded.


    "We''re not at liberty to share details about the case, Max. But what we can say is this, any information you provide can help. The more we understand, the more we can prevent things like this from happening again."


    Max didn''t respond. Instead, he calmly rose from his seat.


    "I believe I''m not being detained," he said. "So I''m leaving. And for the rest of your questions, just consider my answer ''no comment.''"


    Without another word, Max turned and headed for the door. He ignored the teacher calling after him, his mind already elsewhere as he pulled out his phone and fired off a text.


    A few minutes later, Max walked right past his classroom without even a glance. He turned the corner and pushed open the door to the boys'' restroom. Inside, just as expected, Joe was waiting, his posture tense, his eyes flicking toward the entrance as soon as Max walked in.


    "I got your message," Joe said, his voice low and jittery. "But¡­ I really don''t think we should be seen together this much, you know?"


    "And that''s why I messaged you to meet me in here," Max said, his tone sharp and to the point. There was no patience in his voice, no room for games. "Did you and Ko find out that Sam told the teacher about what I was doing to you?"


    "Oh, that?" Joe replied, fidgeting where he stood. "I don''t know the full story, but Ko had a hunch. He said Sam must''ve snitched or something¡­ and he wanted to pay him back."


    "And¡­?" Max asked, his voice low but pressing.


    Joe didn''t respond. He was visibly nervous, shifting his weight, his eyes not meeting Max''s. His hand still ached from their last encounter, his finger, wrapped in bandages, was a constant reminder.


    "What. Did. You. Do?" Max asked again, firmer now.


    "Alright¡­ alright, I''ll tell you everything," Joe blurted out. "But it wasn''t my idea, okay? You told me to keep acting like normal, remember?"


    With that, Joe started talking. He explained everything, how they had gone to Sam''s family restaurant, how Ko led the whole thing, how they acted like customers¡­ and how it ended with the police showing up. Every detail spilled out in a ramble of regret and fear.


    Max stood frozen, letting it all sink in. He wanted to feel angry. He should have felt angry. But that wasn''t the emotion bubbling inside him.


    No, what Max felt was something far worse¡ªguilt.


    It wasn''t just them. He had set all of this in motion. A chain of events, decisions made one after another, leading to a kid''s death. A kid who had tried to help him.


    Without saying another word, Max reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.


    "What are you doing? Are you gonna tell the police?" Joe asked, his voice rising in panic. "The police already know. I don''t think it''s gonna help. Dipter got us those lawyers, and the cops were already on the back foot from the start. They know about the report too."


    Max didn''t say a word to Joe''s rambling. None of what he said was surprising anymore, not even hearing Dipter''s name. It only confirmed what he already suspected. Dipter''s name had been on the list for a reason.


    "I''m doing what he should''ve done," Max said quietly, unlocking his phone.


    He scrolled through his contacts and tapped on one name: Stalker.


    It didn''t even ring more than twice before the line picked up.


    "Well, this is a surprise. Do you need help?" came Aron''s calm, deep voice on the other end.


    "You said I could ask you for anything, right?" Max said, his voice steady but cold. "As long as it''s within your power... then I need your help. Now."

 Chapter 31 - 31: The Stalker

    Since Sam''s death, a few days had passed at school. The police had wrapped up their investigation, and the results were finally out.


    It was officially ruled a suicide.


    According to the report, Sam had climbed to the top of a six-story building near his family''s home, an old apartment complex. Once he reached the roof, he jumped. No one had been there. No one forced him. No one coerced him.


    And just like that, the case was closed.


    The authorities had decided not to press charges, not against any students, not against anyone. Max figured it had everything to do with Odin Law Firm. Their reputation alone was enough to make the police think twice. It was a fight the local department likely knew they''d lose, and even if they won, what would they really gain? A slap on the wrist for a few high schoolers?


    Nothing that would bring Sam back.


    As for Max, those few days had been eerily quiet. The bullying? Gone. The trio that once ruled the classroom with cruel grins and cheap laughs? Completely silent. The teachers, too, were suddenly alert, more aware, probably out of guilt or fear that another student might do something drastic.


    It gave Max some space, space to clear his head¡­ and push his training to its absolute limit.


    Part of training, Max knew, wasn''t just about pushing limits, it was about recovery too. And with the constant hits from the others, recovery had been nearly impossible.


    His strength still wasn''t anywhere near what it had once been, but his stamina¡­ that was coming back fast.


    Then came the third day since Sam''s death. It was a Friday, right before the weekend, when the teacher walked into the room and cleared his throat, his expression unusually serious.


    "I have an important announcement regarding the tragic events that occurred recently," he began, adjusting his glasses. "Sam''s parents will be holding his funeral tomorrow. They''ve invited all of his classmates to attend.


    "Of course, attendance isn''t mandatory," he continued, "but if you were close with Sam, it might be a good time to say a few kind words and pay your respects."


    Only those from their class had been invited.


    Max understood why. Sam''s parents had no idea who his real friends were, if he had any at all. So they''d invited the entire class, assuming someone, anyone, had cared enough to show up.


    But Max knew the truth.


    Sam had no friends. No one to help him. No one who truly saw him.


    On his way home, Max stopped by the gym. This time, every punch he threw at the heavy bag echoed louder than before, each one sharp, furious, like he was trying to knock something loose from his chest.


    Steven could tell right away.


    Those fists¡­ they weren''t about training.


    They were about rage.


    ''I wouldn''t want to be the poor soul standing on the other side of those hits,'' Steven thought, watching from the counter. ''And that damned kid¡­ he still hasn''t told me whether he was serious about that offer or not. I¡­ I''ve got to figure something out with these debts. If I don''t, I''ll owe him, and a lot more people, way more than I can pay back.''


    Later, Max made his way home. He got some rest, knowing what tomorrow held. But early in the morning, a knock on the door stirred him from sleep. Still in his briefs, he stumbled to the door and peeked through the peephole.


    He blinked once.


    "Oh, right. It''s the weekend," he muttered. "Guess he showed up earlier than expected."


    Max opened the door.


    "Come in, Stalker."


    "Stalker?" Aron said, raising a brow as he stepped in, one hand holding up a black-covered hanger. "You''re calling me a stalker? When I only show up at your request, only on weekends, and I''ve bent over backward to fulfill all your demands?"


    He set the hanger down with a sigh.


    "At this point, I''m starting to feel more like your slave."


    Max had to admit, he felt a little bad hearing Aron talk like that. He hadn''t meant anything by it. He was just so used to seeing "Stalker" pop up on his phone screen that the nickname had slipped out without thinking.


    Aron stepped into the small room, glancing around while Max started getting ready. But as he stood there, he found his eyes drifting toward Max''s body, watching him move until eventually, Max turned to face him.


    "Are you going to keep staring at me," Max said, raising a brow, "or are you going to hand over what''s in your hand?"


    "Right." Aron snapped out of it, quickly holding out the hanger.


    Laying it down on the bed, Max unzipped the cover. Inside was a full suit: black blazer, crisp white shirt, matching trousers, the whole set, perfectly pressed and ready for the day ahead.


    "So¡­" Max said as he began to dress, glancing sideways, "what had you staring for so long? Missing your boyfriend or something?"


    Aron cleared his throat, and a slight tint of red rose to his cheeks.


    "No, it''s not like that," he replied quickly. "I was just surprised. The young master has never gotten changed in front of me before. You''ve¡­ got a better body than I expected."


    Max smirked as he buttoned up his shirt.


    "I''m surprised the Stern family allows these kinds of relationships." Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What relationships?" Aron asked, genuinely confused.


    "Coworker relationships," Max said casually. "I''m sure it''s frowned upon."


    Aron''s face was growing redder by the second.


    "Please refrain from making crude jokes like that, especially in front of other members of the Stern family. It''s for your own sake," Aron warned. "But¡­ I''ll admit, it''s nice to see you''ve become more comfortable lately."


    Eventually, Max was done getting ready. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror, adjusting his collar one last time. The reflection staring back at him didn''t quite feel like his, even in the sharp black suit. Still, it reminded him of who he used to be, someone who wore suits like armor, someone who''d been to more funerals than he could count.


    He never expected he''d be going to yet another one, especially in a body that wasn''t even his own.


    Maybe death is just something that follows me, Max thought, his gaze lingering on the mirror a second longer.


    "Aron, did you get everything prepared for today?" he asked.


    "I''ve done everything exactly as you requested," Aron replied, standing at attention.


    With a nod, Max stepped forward and opened the door, taking the lead.


    "Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Let''s see how today goes¡­ I hate funerals."

 Chapter 32 - 32: The Funeral

    Everyone who attended Ri Warrior Public School lived in the nearby neighborhood. That was just how public schools worked, you had to be within a certain zone to even qualify for enrollment. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It also meant everything important, including today''s funeral, was within a thirty-minute walk from campus.


    The service was being held at the local community hall, a space often rented for everything from bingo nights to birthday parties, and now, for something far more solemn.


    That was why Max had chosen to walk, despite the light rain falling from the grey sky. Aron, loyal as ever, was by his side, holding an umbrella above his head to shield him from the drizzle.


    "I still say it would''ve been smarter to take the car," Aron said. "You''d be there by now, and completely dry."


    "Right," Max replied. "And I''d step out of a car worth more than half the neighborhood. Real subtle. It''s not exactly the kind of thing Batman would use to stay unnoticed¡­" He trailed off for a second, questioning his own comparison.


    Aron raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The two continued on through the quiet streets, the soft patter of rain the only sound between them.


    Batman was supposed to be a creature of the night, a figure who thrived in the shadows. So why did he drive around in a flashy vehicle that could be spotted from a mile away? It practically announced his arrival with a neon sign.


    "Anyway," Max continued, glancing sideways at Aron, "my point is, it draws attention. And you, my friend, attract plenty of that yourself."


    "Me? But, sir¡ª"


    "Look, I know the arrangement. You''re supposed to guard me on weekends. That was the deal. But today isn''t exactly a normal day. I just need you to hang back and follow through with what we discussed when the time''s right."


    Aron looked like he wanted to argue, his expression tight with reluctance. But he said nothing. And when Aron went quiet, it usually meant he was on board.


    "I know," Max added with a faint smirk, "if we stay apart for too long, you start getting withdrawal symptoms."


    As the funeral site came into view ahead, Max gave a small nod, his signal. Then, without another word, he stepped out from under the umbrella and into the drizzle. He didn''t flinch. He just kept walking, letting the rain soak through.


    "What was the point of me shielding the young master all this time," Aron muttered under his breath, "if he''s just going to get soaked anyway?"


    But Max had his reasons. It was a personal rule of his, one he never broke. He never brought an umbrella on the day of a funeral. To him, the rain wasn''t just weather. It was the sky weeping for the one who had passed. And he believed in accepting those tears, letting them fall.


    At the funeral service, Sam''s mother and father stood at the front of the hall, dressed in mourning black. Each time someone entered, they bowed and thanked them softly for coming. Their faces were hollow, their eyes puffy and vacant, as if they''d been crying nonstop for days.


    When Max stepped in, he bowed his head respectfully to both of them.


    "Thank you for coming," they said, voices brittle and worn.


    Max scanned the room as he made his way inside. Tables were lined with modest snacks and refreshments, meant to comfort the guests. Most of the people there looked to be extended family, quiet, grieving, somber.


    There were barely any students. In fact, Max seemed to be the only one from school who had shown up.


    "I wonder what happened," someone whispered nearby. "Do you think it was trouble at home?"


    "No, you know Nancy and Ku¡­ they were wonderful parents," someone whispered nearby. "They did everything for their child. If I had to guess, it was probably something that happened at school."


    The quiet hum of gossip floated through the room, soft, hushed, but still present. It was common at gatherings like this. People trying to make sense of tragedy in whispers.


    After a few more guests had filtered in and paid their respects, Sam''s mother and father walked slowly toward the front, where a framed picture of Sam rested beside a small urn. They lowered themselves to their knees beside it, silent, still, broken.


    One by one, guests were invited to take an incense stick. Each person stepped forward, lit the stick, and bowed several times before placing it in the burner. It was a tradition, a way of offering hopes, prayers, and peace to the soul of the departed. A small wish for Sam to find joy in whatever came next.


    Some guests lingered afterward, sharing kind words with the parents, whispers of sympathy, gentle hugs. Max waited. He didn''t want eyes on him, not for this. He waited until the chatter had returned, until the attention was elsewhere.


    Then he moved.


    He stepped forward, took an incense stick between his fingers, and bowed, once, twice, again. The motion was familiar, one he had done more times than he cared to count in his life before this one. He moved forward and gently placed the incense into the holder.


    "You look young," a voice said.


    Max looked up. It was Sam''s father, his tired eyes suddenly blinking with faint awareness, like he''d broken through a fog just for this moment.


    "Could it be¡­ did you go to Sam''s school? Were you one of Sam''s friends?" his mother asked, her voice laced with desperation, clinging to the possibility.


    "I was one of his classmates," Max replied softly. "Because of... some things going on with me, I couldn''t attend school for a while. Sam was seated next to me, so¡­ I didn''t get the chance to know him well."


    He saw it¡ªhow their expressions shifted the moment he said that. Disappointment, like a wave, washing over their faces. But Max didn''t want to lie. Not to them.


    "But," Max continued, his voice steady, "in the short time I did spend with Sam¡­ he did a lot for me. He was kind. He had this foolishly generous heart. I just¡­ I really wish I had gotten to know him better."


    And like that, something changed again. The disappointment melted. In its place, a new warmth¡ªsoft, tearful smiles as fresh tears traced down their cheeks.


    "He was," Sam''s father said with a trembling voice. "He really was such a good kid."


    Their sobs continued, gentle but deep, and Max gave them the moment. When it eased just enough, he spoke again.


    "When the service is over," Max said, "there''s someone who wants to meet you. You''ve never seen him before, but you''ll know who he is when he arrives. He''ll be well-dressed, speaks like he''s from a different world than ours¡­"


    "But please," Max said, voice low but firm, "do me a favor, for yourselves, and for Sam. Just¡­ listen to what he has to say."


    Sam''s parents looked at each other, still unsure, still lost in their grief. But eventually, they nodded. Maybe it was because Max was the only classmate who''d shown up. Maybe it was just something in his voice. Whatever it was, they chose to trust him.


    Rising from the floor, Max felt that he had spent enough time here. He turned, heading toward the doors, ready to leave this heavy place behind, at least for now.


    But then, he stopped cold.


    His eyes landed on the entrance, and there they were.


    Three figures stepped through the doorway, their presence sharp and jarring in the quiet room. Max''s stomach twisted.


    No way. Not them. What the hell are they doing here? he thought, his fists tightening.


    Walking into the funeral, as if they belonged, were Ko, Mo, and Joe, the same trio responsible for so much of Sam''s pain.


    After everything they did... after what they caused... they don''t deserve to be here.

 Chapter 33 - 33: The Bottom Of The Barrel

    It was Friday evening, just before the students had headed home for the weekend, when Ko and his crew, Mo and Joe, got the message.


    Another meeting at the cage.


    They hated being summoned, especially now. The incident with Sam still hung heavy in the air. Even with the lawyers'' smooth words and reassurances, none of them truly felt safe. The truth was still out there¡­ and they knew it.


    When they arrived, the setup was exactly like before. Dipter stood in the middle, calm and collected, with Jay and Snide flanking him like shadows.


    Ko stepped forward, his nerves showing in the tightness of his voice. "Did something happen? Is there an update?"


    Dipter didn''t move. He just stared, a cigarette dangling from his lips, before speaking. "No update. Just instructions. A way to wrap up the mess you three managed to create."


    Ko swallowed hard.


    "Tomorrow''s the funeral for the kid," Dipter continued. "You''re going. All three of you." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What?!" the three shouted at once, their voices cracking with disbelief.


    They looked at each other, stunned. Everyone at school knew what they''d done, there were whispers in every hallway, eyes that lingered longer than they used to. The whole class had turned cold toward them, and they wouldn''t be surprised if Sam''s parents had heard rumors too.


    The idea of walking into that funeral... facing Sam''s grieving family... it felt impossible.


    But Dipter''s expression didn''t change. He wasn''t asking. He was ordering.


    "I''m just repeating what the law firm told me," Dipter said, flicking ash from his cigarette. "They said you need to show remorse. In case this goes anywhere in the future. Things are fine for now, but who knows what someone might dig up later?"


    He looked at each of them, holding their uneasy gazes.


    "So to cover your backs, and everyone else''s involved in this mess, you need to show up. Put on your best faces, look sad, act respectful. It''s not a request."


    Ko, Joe, and Mo exchanged nervous glances. Every part of them screamed that this was a terrible idea. Why were they listening to some lawyers. Just because they were well-dressed and threw around big words didn''t mean they understood how things really worked.


    At least, that''s what Ko told himself.


    "But... what if his parents hate us?" Ko muttered. "If we show up, they''ll recognize us. They might throw us out. Shout at us. We were the last ones to see him¡­ they''ll know."


    Dipter just laughed, cold and careless.


    "They won''t. Trust me. People like them? When they''re grieving, they don''t lash out. They cling to anything that looks like closure. You''ll walk in, bow your heads, light the incense¡­ and they''ll probably thank you for being there. It''s how these things go."


    *****


    With no room to argue and no options left, the trio had arrived at the service the next day. Dressed in black suits, stiff collars, and fake solemnity, they stepped through the doors.


    Late.


    They shifted uncomfortably as they entered, eyes darting around the quiet room, unsure where to go, unsure if they even belonged there.


    Eventually, though, the trio made their way to the incense table. With trembling fingers, each one took a stick, lit it, and dropped to their knees in unison. They bowed their heads, pretending to pray, and then gently placed the incense into the holder beneath Sam''s photo.


    Rising from her position, Sam''s mother turned, and her teary eyes locked onto them.


    "Oh¡­ it''s you three," she said, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up again. "Thank you¡­ thank you so much for coming and being here for our boy."


    "Yes," Sam''s father added, stepping forward, his face drawn and weary. "Thank you. I know there was trouble before¡­ but the fact that you still came today, it means the world. Thank you for being a part of his life, and for being here now."


    Ko stood frozen. Speechless.


    He couldn''t believe it, what Dipter had said was actually true. There was no anger. No blame. Just gratitude. They didn''t know. They had no idea what the three of them had done to their son.


    And instead of anger, they were clinging to the only story that brought them comfort: that maybe, just maybe, Sam hadn''t been alone. That maybe someone had cared.


    From across the room, Max watched the scene unfold.


    His right hand was trembling uncontrollably.


    So much so, he had to grip it tightly with his other hand just to keep it from shaking.


    They''re groveling¡­ being thanked by the very people they destroyed.


    I don''t think I''ve ever experienced something so twisted, not even during my time with the White Tiger.


    After receiving heartfelt gratitude from Sam''s grieving parents, Ko and the others began to move more freely around the hall. The anxiety that had gripped them earlier seemed to vanish. Because now they understood something terrifyingly simple.


    They had gotten away with it.


    This was how the world worked. And as far as they were concerned, they were untouchable.


    As they wandered toward the snack tables, Ko''s eyes landed on someone standing alone.


    Max.


    The three of them made their way over. Joe trailed behind, doing his best to avoid making eye contact.


    "Well, well, Max," Ko grinned, his confidence fully returned. "Didn''t expect to see you here. But I guess it makes sense. Thanks to us, you and Sam got so close, right? I think you owe us a thank-you for that." He chuckled, nudging Mo, who let out a laugh too.


    Joe only offered a stiff, awkward smile.


    Max didn''t respond. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. Breathing in. Breathing out.


    Thankfully, a voice rang out through the hall, cutting the tension like a blade.


    "Thank you, everyone, for coming today," Sam''s father said gently. "The service is now over. We wish you all a peaceful day."


    As those words left Sam''s father''s mouth, the atmosphere in the room began to shift. One by one, people started to file out quietly, offering soft goodbyes and final bows. Ko took that as his cue to make an exit.


    "Looks like it''s time for us to go," he said with a smug tilt of his head. "But remember, Max, things will be back to normal at school."


    Mo leaned in, grinning like he was in on some cruel joke. "Yeah. You better stay in line and do what we say. Who knows, maybe next time, we''ll be here for you instead."


    With that, Ko turned on his heel and strutted toward the exit, the other two trailing behind him. Joe didn''t even dare look back¡ªnot once. He kept his eyes on the floor the entire time.


    After everything they''ve done¡­ they''re still planning to keep going? Max thought, his blood boiling. No remorse. No respect. To say something like that here, right in front of Sam''s parents, at his funeral?


    Most of the guests had already gone. The space had fallen into a somber quiet, and that''s when Max noticed Aron step through the doors at the far end of the room.


    Taking that as his own cue, Max began walking toward the exit, just as Aron passed by him. The two exchanged only a brief moment, but Aron leaned in to whisper.


    "Are you sure you don''t want to stay with me for this part?" he asked softly. "I think they''d appreciate it more than you think."


    "No, it''s fine," Max replied, his voice steady but distant. "Besides, there''s something else I need to take care of."


    Without another word, he brushed past Aron and stepped out into the cool air. As he turned his head, his eyes narrowed, locking onto three familiar figures walking together down the street in the distance.


    Ko, Mo, and Joe.


    Still laughing. Still free.


    And completely unaware of what was coming.

 Chapter 34 - 34: A Generous Gift

    Aron stepped inside the hall, scanning the room until his eyes landed on the two people he needed to speak with. But just as he began to move toward them, he hesitated.


    The look on the young master''s face... it reminded me of the one he wore at the Stern family party that night, Aron thought. No¡­ this time, it was worse. Much worse.


    His feet rooted in place, he questioned himself. Should I go after him? Be there with him, right now?


    Before he could decide, both of Sam''s parents noticed the sharply dressed young man standing near the entrance. He stood with perfect posture, his tailored black suit catching the light in a way that made it seem to shimmer, even among the sea of dark mourning clothes.


    "Excuse me," Sam''s father said gently as he approached. "Are you¡­ the one? A boy told us someone might come speak with us, after the service."


    The words pulled Aron from his spiraling thoughts. He straightened up and offered a polite, practiced smile.


    This is the first time the young master has entrusted me with something truly important. I won''t let him down.


    He gave them a respectful bow. "That''s correct. I believe this conversation would be best¡­ if the three of us sat down."


    Following Aron''s lead, Sam''s parents were guided to one of the empty tables at the back of the hall. The food had already been cleared away, leaving the space clean and quiet. Aron sat on one side, while Sam''s mother and father took their seats opposite him, still carrying the weight of the day in their expressions.


    "What''s your relationship with that young boy?" Sam''s mother asked, her voice cautious but curious.


    "Max?" Aron replied calmly. "The two of us share a close relationship. But what I''m here for today¡­ it''s separate from that." He folded his hands neatly on the table. "I imagine you''re both wondering why I''ve come, especially on such a difficult day."


    There was something in Aron''s tone, gentle, measured, that soothed them in a way neither expected. Despite the emotional storm they were in, his presence felt oddly grounding.


    "You''re right," Sam''s father said, glancing at his wife. "The boy, Max¡­ he told us to listen to you. Said you had something important to say. He seemed like a good kid."


    "He is," Aron said with a soft smile. "And maybe that''s why I''m here now. You see, I heard about what happened a few days ago, your restaurant losing its license. I understand you''re in the process of selling the equipment¡­ maybe even the business itself. Is that right?"


    "Correct," Sam''s mother replied with a quiet nod. "But¡­ with everything that''s happened, we honestly haven''t had the time to sort anything out."


    Even just speaking about it brought a heavy ache to their hearts. Without the business, how were they supposed to make a living? It was the kind of worry that gnawed at you late at night, never letting go.


    But now, with the loss of their son, they both felt like they would''ve gone into any amount of debt just to bring him back. They would''ve gladly shut the restaurant down a hundred times over if it meant seeing his face again.


    And as those thoughts twisted painfully inside them, Sam''s father suddenly remembered the last words he''d spoken to his son.


    "The news I have for you," Aron began gently, "won''t heal your wounds¡­ but it might help ease some of the weight."


    He reached into his bag and pulled out a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the table toward them.


    "Your restaurant license, the one that had been revoked, it''s been reinstated. Your business no longer has to shut down," Aron said, watching their stunned expressions. "And there''s more."


    He revealed a few more documents, neatly stacked, and placed them on the table.


    "This here is an offer. A proposal to purchase one percent of your business."


    "One percent¡­?" Sam''s father echoed, caught off guard.


    It wasn''t the kind of moment where someone wanted to read legal documents, but the situation felt so strange, so unexpected, that he found himself picking it up anyway, scanning the words with wide eyes.


    Immediately, one number leapt off the page like a flashing red light.


    "Is this some kind of sick joke?!" Sam''s father suddenly snapped, his voice rising as he stood to his feet. "On a day like this, you choose now to play games with us?"


    "I assure you," Aron said calmly, unfazed by the outburst, "this is no joke. The funds would be deposited immediately, the moment you sign that contract."


    Sam''s mother, startled by her husband''s reaction, reached over and gently pulled the contract toward her. Her eyes skimmed over the print¡­ and then she saw it.


    "One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ six zeroes¡­" she whispered. "This can''t be right."


    Her hands trembled slightly as she looked up. "You''re offering¡­ one million dollars? For just one percent of our business?"


    "It makes no sense," Sam''s father added, still in disbelief. "This has to be some kind of scam. Who would do something like this?"


    "You''re free to have any lawyer review the contract," Aron replied evenly. "Any costs involved, we''ll cover them. We just want you to feel safe. No tricks. No fine print."


    The room fell into a stunned silence. Even with the chaos of their grief, the absurdity of the offer was impossible to ignore.


    "But¡­ why?" Sam''s father finally asked, his voice quieter this time, almost a whisper. "Why would anyone do this? There has to be a reason. There''s no such thing as a free lunch in this world."


    Aron slowly rose from his seat. The conversation had run its course, he''d said what needed to be said. Any more and they''d probably start doubting him again, chalking it all up to some too-good-to-be-true scam.


    "You''re not wrong," Aron said gently. "There''s always a reason behind actions like this. But the truth is, this isn''t about either of you."


    Both of Sam''s parents looked up, confused.


    "This is being done¡­ because of Sam."


    "Because of Sam?" his mother repeated, barely above a whisper.


    "I can''t say too much," Aron continued. "But the person responsible for all of this, the offer, the help, he wishes he could''ve done something sooner. He regrets not being there when Sam needed someone most."


    His words hung in the air like a heavy mist.


    "So now," Aron went on, his tone soft but firm, "he''s doing what he can. To make sure Sam''s family is protected. To do right by him. Because your son¡­ was a good person. And if he hadn''t been, none of this would be happening."


    The explanation only deepened the ache in their hearts, pressing on the wounds that had barely begun to scab over. Aron reached into his jacket, pulled out a business card, and set it gently on the table.


    "If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call me. We''ll handle the rest."


    With that, he turned to leave, but before he could step away¡ª


    "Wait!" Sam''s father called out.


    Aron turned around, catching sight of Sam''s father as he wiped the tears from his eyes.


    "The person¡­ who did all this? Was it that boy we met earlier?" he asked, voice trembling.


    Beside him, Sam''s mother looked confused. The boy who had come to pay his respects, the classmate, they were just kids, both going to the same public school. It didn''t make sense. How could it be him?


    But Sam''s father couldn''t shake the feeling in his chest. A quiet certainty. After all, this whole meeting, all of it, had only happened because that boy had asked them to listen.


    Aron held his gaze for a moment, then offered a soft, knowing smile.


    "I''ll allow you both to believe¡­ whatever you wish to believe," he replied, turning back toward the door.


    "Tell him¡ª" Sam''s father called out, his voice cracking. "Tell him we said thank you¡­ and that it''s not his fault. It was ours."


    Aron paused for just a second, the weight of the words settling on him. Then he stepped forward, out into the hall, his mind already racing.


    Max¡­ just what are you planning? Why go through all this? S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 35 - 35: The Power Rangers Fall

    At the Stern Manor, Dennis was seated at his desk, going through a stack of files. He personally read each one, sometimes signing them at the bottom with a wet signature. Others, he tore apart and tossed aside without hesitation.


    Most chairmen of large corporations wouldn''t bother handling things so directly, but Dennis was different. He wanted to know every single moving part.


    "It appears I''ve just received some news, sir," Fred said, standing by his side and slipping his phone back into his pocket. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "News important enough to interrupt me in the middle of all this?" Dennis asked, rubbing his tired eyes. "I need a break anyway, but I hope it''s something pleasant."


    "Pleasant? I''m not so sure about that," Fred replied. "But it''s certainly interesting. It''s about Max Stern. It seems¡­ he''s decided to use the money."


    Dennis froze.


    Now that was interesting.


    Out of all the heirs, Max had always stood out, for the simple reason that he was the only one who hadn''t touched the money¡­ until now.


    However, when Dennis had previously tried to look into Max''s behavior, why he hadn''t used the money, he came up empty. There was no grand scheme, no elaborate plan. If anything, Dennis had been disappointed.


    Still, because of the unique situation within the Stern family, Dennis had instructed Fred to monitor any movements closely. And now that there was movement, he was expecting something big.


    "I''ve sent the corresponding information to your tablet. Make of it what you will," Fred said.


    Sitting at the corner of Dennis''s desk was a sleek tablet. He didn''t always use it, but for things like email or keeping updated on key reports, it came in handy. Situations like this were exactly why he kept it nearby.


    Opening the file Fred had sent, Dennis scrolled through the digital contract. His expression barely changed, except for a single, curious raise of the eyebrow.


    "You''re right," Dennis finally said. "This is interesting¡­ and it makes absolutely no sense. Buying into a restaurant, and not even the whole thing, just a small percentage? I''ve tried to piece together how he could possibly use this to his advantage, what kind of angle he''s playing, but nothing adds up."


    Dennis rubbed his temples, then scratched the back of his head as he thought it through a little more.


    "Keep tracking his financial movements," he finally said. "If he''s started spending now, it likely means he''s planning to spend a lot more soon."


    His voice dropped slightly as he leaned back in his chair.


    "But if this is part of some grand ambition... I don''t see it going anywhere. He won''t become a true heir like this, he''ll get eaten alive by the people around him. Frankly, it''s disappointing."


    ****


    The rain had cleared up, leaving behind the damp smell of the streets as the trio wandered aimlessly, debating how to spend the rest of their weekend. They tossed around ideas. maybe the arcade, a visit to the pool hall, or something totally different.


    As they walked, Joe''s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and nearly dropped it.


    Ko glanced over. "What''s up? Your mom text you to come home and scrub the floors or something?"


    Joe quickly flipped the phone back around, forcing a weak smile. "Ah, no, it''s nothing. Don''t worry about it."


    Trying to play it off, he pocketed the phone and added, "Actually, how about we all head home, get changed out of these suits, and meet back up at the arcade? Feels kinda stuffy walking around like this. And honestly¡­ a little depressing."


    Ko eyed Joe for a second, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought.


    "Yeah," he finally said, nodding. "That actually sounds like a good idea."


    Joe let out a breath of relief, subtle but noticeable.


    "Let''s meet up at the arcade by the west library," he added.


    With that, the trio agreed and split up, each heading their separate ways. They didn''t all live in the same neighborhood, so it wasn''t unusual for them to part like this.


    As soon as he was far enough away, Joe pulled out his phone again, his fingers moving fast to open the message that had nearly made him drop the device earlier.


    [Get The Power Rangers to split up.]


    At first, Joe had been confused. He thought it was about the actual TV show. How am I supposed to break up the Power Rangers? he''d wondered. Aren''t they, like, all about unity?


    But then he saw the sender: Max.


    And it clicked.


    He''s talking about us. Him, Ko, and Mo¡ªthe little crew of bullies. The "Power Rangers."


    A second message followed, sealing the deal.


    [If you do, I''ll add an extra $100 this month.]


    Joe didn''t even hesitate. He''d already thought of a solid way to break the group up for a bit, and with that, the job was done. He tapped out a quick reply and sent it back to Max.


    He wanted us to split up¡­ Joe thought, staring at his phone, a strange chill running down his spine. Why do I have this bad feeling? Did I just do something incredibly stupid?


    But then he shook it off. Still, it was a hundred bucks just for saying a few words. It''s not my fault, right? I just said we should go home and get changed.


    ****


    Meanwhile, Mo was strolling along the quieter streets, far from the busier main roads, happily whistling to himself. He was already pretty close to home, completely relaxed now that the day was over.


    That was until something slammed into him hard from the side.


    His body was thrown to the edge of the sidewalk, but he managed to stay on his feet, skidding back a few steps. He spun around, ready to throw hands.


    "What the heck, who just did that?!"


    His scowl quickly morphed into a smug grin when he saw who it was.


    "Max¡­ seriously?" Mo said, rolling his eyes. "What is this? You really waited until I was alone to try something? Do you actually think, just ''cause it''s one-on-one, you''ll stand a chance?"


    Max didn''t flinch. His fists clenched, his knuckles whitening as he stared down Mo with quiet rage.


    "What you said¡­ at the funeral," Max muttered, his voice low and sharp. "I won''t forget it."


    "What, that''s what pushed you over the edge?" Mo laughed, loud and mocking. "Well, looks like you''re trying to make that little funeral wish come true, showing up here like this!"


    Without waiting another second, Mo charged at Max, his footsteps loud against the pavement. As soon as he got close, he launched a wild punch, aiming straight for Max''s face. Max shifted to the side, dodging it easily, but Mo followed up with another swing, this time more precise, more forceful.


    Only it didn''t land.


    Max caught the punch clean in his palm, gripping Mo''s fist tightly.


    "Sam tried to help me," Max said, his voice steady but shaking with emotion, "even though he didn''t really know me. I couldn''t help him while he was alive¡­ but I can at least help him this way."

 Chapter 36 - 36: Following The List

    Max gripped Mo''s fist tightly, his own arm trembling from the strength he was using to hold it in place.


    "What the hell are you doing? Let go! Have you gone crazy?" Mo shouted, panicked now.


    Just as Mo reeled his other arm back for a punch, Max struck, his free hand snapping forward in a sharp, heavy slap that cracked across Mo''s cheek. The blow was so strong, it left Mo stunned, his vision wobbling like the world had tilted.


    "Who''s going to whose funeral?" Max growled.


    Then, without warning, he brought his knee up and drove it right into the center between Mo''s legs. Mo let out a strangled cry, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap.


    "A blow that could take out Harry Potter," Max muttered coldly.


    He didn''t stop. He raised his hand again and struck Mo across the face with the back of it, a second slap that sent spit flying from Mo''s mouth.


    "What¡­ what''s happening¡­?" Mo groaned, barely able to form the words. His vision was darkening, his lips swelling, his whole body frozen in place.


    "I''m not done!" Max snapped.


    Clenching his fist, he drove it forward, full force into Mo''s face. A sickening crunch followed as his knuckles slammed into Mo''s nose, sending his head whipping backward. Blood sprayed, and Mo''s body hit the ground with a dull thud, completely still.


    "This punishment, the one you used to laugh at, the one you handed out every single day to Sam and Max, this is nothing compared to that!" Max shouted, his voice raw with fury.


    And it was in that moment, Mo realized, he didn''t stand a chance. This wasn''t a fight. This wasn''t even a beating. He wasn''t facing the Max he knew. He didn''t know who he was up against now. This version of Max¡­ was a monster.


    Panicked, Mo scrambled off the ground and turned to run. But he barely managed two steps before Max grabbed him by the collar, yanked him back, and slammed him down hard onto the concrete.


    "Can you feel it?" Max asked, his voice low and venomous. "Can you feel the pain? Because of you, Sam will never feel this again. He''ll never feel anything."


    Max flipped Mo over and grabbed the tie hanging loosely around his neck, the same one from his funeral suit. In one motion, he wrapped it tight around Mo''s throat and started to pull.


    Mo''s hands shot up instantly, clawing at his neck in desperation. He scratched at the tie, at his own skin, his fingers slipping uselessly. His nails tore into his flesh, drawing blood, but he couldn''t get under the fabric. He couldn''t breathe.


    "And for the rest of their lives," Max seethed, "his family will carry this pain you left behind."


    "I... I... I''m sorry!" Mo barely managed to choke out.


    Max loosened the tie instantly, and Mo collapsed onto the ground, gasping desperately for air. His chest heaved as if the oxygen was thick and heavy, and his body trembled uncontrollably. His eyes were bloodshot, tears welling at the corners, and his scalp prickled like his head had nearly burst from the pressure just moments ago.


    "''Sorry'' is just a word," Max said coldly. "It fixes nothing. And you¡­ you''ve gone beyond fixing. No apology can undo what you''ve done." His voice dropped as he reached down. "You wanted to play the wannabe gangster? Then you deal with the consequences." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Grabbing the tie that had just nearly choked the life out of Mo, Max wrapped it tight around his knuckles, the fabric biting into his skin. With a single hand, he lifted Mo by the scruff of the neck, like he weighed nothing.


    "I''d suggest you don''t show your face at school on Monday," Max warned, winding his fist back. "No one''s going to believe the weak Max Smith was the one who did this to you."


    Before Mo could plead, before he could say yes or no, Max''s fist came flying forward, slamming into the side of his jaw.


    Mo dropped like a stone, completely unconscious.


    Max let him fall to the concrete with a heavy thud. His fist still clenched, his breathing steady, he stood over him for a moment longer. Then, without a word, Max turned his back and started walking, back toward the funeral service, back toward what was left of the day.


    Back toward Sam.


    Walking back slowly, Max kept his head down, his thoughts running circles around his mind. He barely noticed where he was going until he bumped into someone, solid, like he''d just walked straight into a wall.


    "You seem to have a lot on your mind, young master."


    Looking up, Max saw Aron standing before him, umbrella still in hand, holding it like it was a part of him.


    "It''s barely raining," Max muttered.


    "Don''t you think your clothes have absorbed enough water for one day?" Aron replied, his gaze drifting down to Max''s knuckles.


    They were raw, red and scraped. Obvious signs of a fight.


    He''s been fighting, Aron thought. So that look I saw earlier¡­ I was right. But for Max Stern to get personally involved?


    Then his eyes narrowed slightly. At least he doesn''t look injured. If anyone had dared lay a hand on the young master¡­


    "Let''s go home, Aron," Max said softly, the weariness in his voice undeniable. "I think I need to rest."


    "I do have some good news to share," Aron replied as they began walking. "I''ve received confirmation. They signed the contract. It seems they decided to place their trust in your words, after all."


    "Good job¡­ at least the money''s being put to some kind of use, right?" Max said, though his voice lacked any real enthusiasm.


    They walked in silence on the way back to his apartment building. Neither said much, the weight of the day hanging heavy in the air. Aron didn''t know everything about Max''s life, but based on what he''d witnessed today, it felt like maybe Max had lost someone close. Maybe even a friend from school.


    Eventually, Aron gave a small nod and stepped toward the door. "I don''t do this often," he said, "but it seems like you''ll be staying in your apartment for the rest of the day. I''ll take my leave, and see you tomorrow."


    With that, he gently closed the door behind him.


    Max didn''t move for a long while. He stayed in the quiet of his room, staring blankly at the wall. He wasn''t in the mood for the gym, not tonight. His body needed a break anyway. His knuckles were still raw, his muscles stiff from the tension.


    Instead, he picked up his phone.


    "It''s time I stopped messing around," Max muttered under his breath. "None of it got me anywhere in the end."


    Unlocking his screen, he scrolled through the notes until he found the one he was looking for.


    "I''m going to deal with the first person on this list." His eyes narrowed, full of quiet resolve. "Ko¡­ you''re up next."

 Chapter 37 - 37: Another Rich One

    The weekend was something many people looked forward to, especially students still stuck in school. It was the only time they truly felt like they had a break, so they made sure to make the most of it. But how that time was spent varied from person to person.


    For Abby, weekends meant staying at home, playing games and reading stories whenever she could. It was also the only time she allowed herself a sugar rush to satisfy her cravings. Sleep, good food, games, and ending the day with sweet treats and a movie or TV show, that was Abby''s perfect weekend.


    So why was she currently sitting in a coffee shop, staring out at a crowded shopping street filled with all kinds of people? The answer: her dear friend.


    "Please, you have to stop pulling that face when you''re with me, Abby," the woman sitting across from her said with a playful eye roll.


    That woman was Cindy, Abby''s best friend. Maybe even her only real-life friend. Cindy had short blonde hair and enough energy to power a small city. She loved going out, keeping up with the latest fashion trends, and diving headfirst into whatever gossip was floating around that week.


    Some people often wondered how the two of them were even friends. But Abby and Cindy had known each other since kindergarten, and despite being complete opposites, they genuinely enjoyed each other''s company.


    They never judged one another''s hobbies and would even join in from time to time, just to share a laugh.


    "Come on," Cindy pouted. "When we played that cooking game together, I didn''t get all sulky with you!"


    "That''s because you were the one who got way too into it!" Abby shot back. "You were shouting orders like, ''Cut the lettuce! Cook the rice!'' I mean, who even yells during a cooking game?"


    "Right, right," Cindy sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "That''s why I figured it was better if we headed out today instead. But I guess that''s my bad. Buying clothes makes me happy, I should''ve picked something that makes you happy instead."


    Then her tone softened. "Hey¡­ did you really know Sam that well?"


    At that moment, flashes of memory rushed through Abby''s mind, Sam''s terrified expression, how hesitant he''d been to tell the teacher what was going on. She still didn''t understand why¡­ and now, for this to happen to him?


    She couldn''t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe she could have done more. Maybe she should''ve talked to Sam about what was going on¡­ but she never did. And now, it felt surreal knowing she''d never get the chance again. He was just¡­ gone.


    "I wasn''t super close with Sam," Abby admitted, her voice quiet. "But I think he was pretty close with Max."


    "Oh right," Cindy said, perking up. "I forgot you and Max used to talk a lot. Didn''t you two play that game together all the time?" She tapped her finger against her temple like she was trying to pull the memory out, but it never came.


    "Yeah," Abby nodded. "But he hasn''t been online lately, so I don''t really know what''s going on with him. We haven''t talked much."


    "Honestly, I think that might be a good thing," Cindy replied, slurping the last bit of her drink through the straw. "You heard what people are saying, right? That Sam was being bullied, and now they''re saying Max is getting it too."


    She leaned in a bit. "Aren''t you scared? If people find out the two of you talk, what if they start targeting you as well?"


    Abby didn''t hesitate.


    "What, so you think I should abandon someone just because of that?" she shot back. "Think about how much worse it is for them, being all alone with no one to stand by them."


    "I know, I know, you like him. You don''t have to keep saying it in such a roundabout way," Cindy said, waving her hand dismissively as she turned to look out the window.


    Outside, a sleek yellow sports car pulled up to the curb. Its doors lifted upward like wings, and out stepped a man wearing sunglasses and a fancy white shirt that screamed money. On the other side, a woman in a bold red dress climbed out gracefully.


    "You can''t help who you fall for, right?" Cindy said with a wistful sigh. "But if I had one wish, it''d be to end up with someone like that. You know those stories, where the normal girl crushes on some guy and it turns out he secretly owns an entire company or is a prince of some hidden kingdom? Why can''t I get that kind of luck?"


    "Please," Abby said with a small eye roll. "In real life, most princes are over fifty, and if you want to talk about CEOs, they''re usually even older." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Cindy stood up dramatically, clutching her heart. "Thanks for destroying my imagination. Maybe I should just do what you do, like someone just because you like them."


    "Did I say I liked him? He''s just a friend," Abby replied, her cheeks flushing red as she stood up quickly.


    The two of them exited the coffee shop, which was connected to a large shopping mall. As they strolled through the mall, it didn''t take long before Cindy made a stop at the Bannel store.


    It wasn''t like she could afford the bags there, especially at her age, but window shopping and dreaming were part of the experience.


    Abby trailed behind as Cindy admired the displays, occasionally trying on a bag with stars in her eyes. Eventually, though, she let out a dramatic sigh and placed it back on the shelf, pouting.


    "Maybe one day I''ll be able to afford something like this," Cindy said wistfully.


    "Oh really?" a voice came from her right.


    Cindy''s mouth dropped open the moment she turned to see who it was. Standing there was a tall, athletic man with a clean-cut hairstyle and a presence that seemed to light up the store. He was exactly the type of guy Cindy always dreamed about.


    "Really, you''d buy this for me?" she asked, blinking in disbelief. "But it costs so much¡­ you wouldn''t just do that for free, would you?"


    Immediately, Abby rushed in from the side and grabbed her friend by the arm.


    "What are you doing talking to strangers?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "If some random guy''s offering to buy you something that expensive, obviously he''s going to want something in return."


    Two of the man''s friends, who were lounging on a nearby sofa inside the store, started to chuckle.


    "Hey, don''t take it so seriously," one of them said with an easy grin. "He''s just being nice. The guy loves helping people out. To him, buying a bag like that is no different than offering someone a stick of gum."


    Then he leaned in slightly and added, "That man right there? That''s Donto Stern. Ever heard of them? The Stern Family?"

 Chapter 38 - 38: Trapped In A Corner

    "The Stern family?" Abby repeated, narrowing her eyes. "And I''m from the IDGF family."


    Donto raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the name, until one of his friends stifled a laugh. Cindy, on the other hand, had pieced it together immediately.


    "Oh, the Stern family? That Stern family? Wow!" Cindy gasped, clasping her hands together as her eyes practically sparkled.


    Just moments ago, she''d felt like Abby had crushed her dreams, saying guys like that didn''t exist. But now? Now one was standing right in front of her, breathing, speaking, offering designer bags like they were no big deal.


    Thanks to her deep dives into fashion blogs and the Borbes rich lists, she knew exactly who the Sterns were.


    "Wait, so you really do have that kind of money?" Cindy asked, already pulling the bag from the shelf. "And you''re saying you''ll buy this for me? Just like that?"


    "Of course I don''t mind," Donto said smoothly, leaning casually against the wall, his tight shirt stretching just enough to flex his muscles.


    Abby watched him with a deadpan stare. Seriously, could this guy have picked a tighter shirt?


    "I wasn''t expecting anything in return," Donto added with a wink. "But if you wanted to leave me your number... I wouldn''t be mad about it."


    His friends, still lounging on the nearby couches, let out a few chuckles.


    "Unbelievable. Every time," one of them said. "As soon as they hear who he is, they''re practically throwing their numbers at him."


    "His superpower isn''t strength or speed," the other added with a smirk. "It''s his bank account and that last name."


    "Cindy, seriously, let''s go," Abby said, tugging her friend gently by the arm. "You''re the one who told me that guys like this never end up with regular people. They date celebrities, influencers, other millionaires. Do you really think someone hanging out in the girls'' section of a luxury shop, hitting on random people, is doing this for love? Come on, snap out of it." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Cindy blinked, glancing around. Now that Abby mentioned it¡­ yeah. The section they were in was filled with handbags, heels, and chic dresses. It made no sense for a guy like him to be browsing here, unless he was shopping for someone else.


    And now that she really thought about it, he''d been standing there for a while. Watching. Waiting. He hadn''t just randomly bumped into her.


    "Do you people have to get involved?" Donto finally said, a little irritation slipping into his voice. And this time, his eyes were locked directly on Abby.


    "Oh, I get it now," Donto said, his voice laced with smugness. "You''re upset because I hit on your friend instead of you. No need to drag her away just to show how jealous you are."


    And just like that, the scowl shifted from Abby''s face to Cindy''s.


    "Excuse me?" Cindy snapped. "My friend isn''t jealous! Who do you think you are, acting like everyone automatically likes you?"


    For a second, it actually looked like she was going to slap him right across the face. Abby knew this would happen, drama always followed guys like this.


    But it was one of the things she loved about Cindy. No matter what, she always had Abby''s back. She was the kind of friend who''d throw hands before letting anyone disrespect her.


    "Wow, turns out you''re both walking red flags," Donto muttered, shaking his head. "Glad I didn''t waste my money on you. Might as well have set it on fire."


    The two girls turned to leave, brushing past the sneering group. But just before crossing the threshold, Abby paused, her frustration boiling over.


    She spun on her heel and looked Donto dead in the eye.


    "Right, right. Big proud man, huh? Flashing Daddy''s money around to impress a bunch of students. Buying things with cash you didn''t even earn. Try learning how to handle rejection¡­ jerk."


    And with that, she turned back around, walking off with Cindy by her side.


    "Haha!" Cindy burst out laughing as the two of them continued walking down the street. "That was so good! But the thing about the Stern family, it''s not even their dads, they''re all just leeching off their grandpa''s money." Cindy made sure to say the last part loud enough for the guys to hear, her voice carrying as they strolled away, still laughing.


    Behind them, the boys weren''t taking it nearly as well.


    "Oh man," one of Donto''s friends chuckled. "That''s gotta be the biggest rejection I''ve ever seen."


    "Yeah, and he was so sure he had it in the bag!" the other added, snorting.


    But while they laughed, Donto''s jaw clenched. His face was turning red, not from embarrassment, but rage.


    "Those damn ugly bitches," Donto hissed. "And I was actually trying to be nice. I offer to buy them something and I''m the one who gets humiliated?"


    Still fuming, he yanked out his phone and tapped the screen. It rang twice before someone picked up on the other end.


    "I need you to rough a couple people up for me."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Meanwhile, the two girls continued down the sidewalk, the shopping bags swinging at their sides. After the strange encounter, they decided it was probably best to call it a day and head home.


    They were just about to head for the bus stop when a group of men and women suddenly appeared in front of them.


    Their appearance was rough, hoodies pulled low over their faces, baggy clothes hanging loose, each one giving off an unsettling vibe.


    Abby instinctively turned around, but her heart sank the moment she saw three more people standing behind them.


    All of them were large. Intimidating.


    "You two, move," one of the men said, pulling a sharp object from a hidden pouch slung around the side of his neck.


    "If you scream, shout, or try to run, then you''ll be dealing with this. And trust me, it''s a lot worse than whatever we''ve got planned for you."


    Abby could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, heat rushing to her face. Her entire body was tense, but more than anything, she could feel Cindy trembling beside her.


    "Don''t worry¡­ we''ll be okay¡­ we''ll be okay¡­" Abby whispered, unsure if the words were meant to calm Cindy down, or herself.


    With no other option, the two of them started walking forward into the alleyway. Three figures led the way, and three stayed behind, boxing them in completely.


    There was no chance of escape.


    As they continued forward, a sudden grunt echoed from behind them.


    "Aghh!" one of the men yelled.


    "What do you think you''re doing?!" another voice shouted, followed by a loud thud.


    Cindy, Abby, and the three attackers in front all turned around, just in time to see a lone figure standing over the bodies of the three who had been tailing them. One man remained upright, but it was clear he''d taken them all out.


    "What the heck, who are you, kid?!" one of the men in front shouted.


    Without another word, the three lunged at him, completely forgetting about Abby and Cindy.


    The first attacker pulled out a knife, but in one clean motion, it was slapped straight out of his hand. A powerful punch followed, square to the face, dropping him instantly.


    The second man tried to tackle the stranger, but the stranger grabbed him mid-charge, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him to the pavement with a sickening crack.


    With five attackers down, the last one froze for a second, then bolted down the alley, sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him.


    "You two, get out of here. Now!" the stranger said, his voice firm but calm.


    Abby and Cindy didn''t need to be told twice. They rushed past him, sprinting down the alley and back toward the high street. Their hearts were pounding as they ran all the way to the bus stop, where the sight of a crowd finally made them stop and breathe.


    "That¡­ was way too close," Cindy panted, hands on her knees. "What just happened? Why did they even attack us?"


    "I don''t know," Abby said, her voice still shaking. "But after that? I''m definitely not going out again for a while." She glanced down the street behind them, still on edge. "Who was that guy¡­ the one who helped us?"


    Cindy had just managed to catch her breath when a memory clicked.


    "Wait¡­ I think I saw his face when we ran past him. I''m pretty sure he''s someone from our school. Jay Woods, that''s his name, right? One of the delinquents who always hangs around with Dipter."


    Abby''s brows furrowed. "We were saved¡­ by one of the school delinquents?"


    The whole situation was unreal. The more she thought about it, the more this town just didn''t make sense.


    "Well, if we see him tomorrow," Cindy said, still trying to process everything, "we should at least say thank you. I guess we kinda owe him one now."

 Chapter 39 - 39: Whos Stronger?

    The day after Sam''s funeral, Sunday, Max realized he needed to start preparing for the worst when school started again.


    He had given in to his anger and attacked Mo earlier than he had planned. There was a decent chance he''d done enough to keep Mo from telling anyone else, but there was still a possibility that word had spread. If the entire school knew what happened, that would be a serious problem, for a lot of reasons.


    Originally, his goal had been simple: to figure out why the real Max Stern never touched the money. With that kind of wealth, he could''ve easily put a stop to the bullying, hired someone, paid the others off, maybe even transferred to a new school altogether. But he hadn''t done any of those things.


    And Max was still nowhere closer to figuring out why.


    On top of that, he''d only uncovered two names from the list so far. The first was Ko, the self-declared leader of their classroom and the one responsible for most of the torment aimed at both Max and Sam. The second was Dipter, apparently the top delinquent in the entire school. He was the one giving orders, the one even Ko answered to. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The real problem was, this school wasn''t just any regular public school, it was crawling with more scum than most.


    That explained why no one ever stepped in during the chaos that unfolded in the classroom. Nearly all the boys in class were delinquents.


    They listened to Ko. Some greeted him like a friend, others just followed his lead. Sure, it was the main trio that acted like they ran the place, but the rest weren''t exactly innocent. They went along with it, and that was just as bad.


    A lot of this, I found out through texts with Joe, Max thought, confirming what he had already suspected.


    Basically, if Max ever made a public move against Dipter or Ko, it''d be like declaring war on the entire school.


    Even if, in the past, he could''ve taken on a hundred students at once, that wasn''t true anymore, not in this body.


    Things would be so much easier if I still had the White Tiger backing me like I used to¡­ Max thought. Then again, there''s always the option of handling things outside of school. On weekends, Aron is around to protect me.


    That could be a way to get him involved without directly asking for help. If random students started attacking me, Aron would have no choice but to step in, right? That''s literally his job.


    The problem was¡­ tomorrow was school, and everything could change in the blink of an eye.


    Max could feel the tension crawling in his fingers, like they were itching for something to do. He''d already made up his mind, he needed to stay sharp for whatever was coming. That''s why he texted Steven and asked him to open up the gym.


    He''d rested yesterday. Today, he needed to move.


    As he walked, his thoughts kept spinning.


    How do I isolate Ko? Take him out without Dipter ever knowing? Max wondered. Could I bring him to my side¡­ like I did with Joe?


    But then, that thought twisted in his stomach. He remembered everything Ko had done to Sam.


    According to Joe, nearly all of it had been Ko''s idea. Luring someone in, rewarding them with money¡­ it made Max feel sick just thinking about it.


    "Sir¡­ are you sure this is the right place?" Aron asked, standing at the front of the gym. The metal shutter was still pulled down, leaving nothing but the cold exterior in view.


    "Yes," Max replied plainly. "And you said you wouldn''t bother me with questions if I brought you along."


    It was Sunday, after all. Which meant Aron had to stay by his side, no exceptions. And that''s exactly why he was there now.


    When Steven showed up in his signature red tracksuit, he was more than a little surprised to see someone else standing next to the kid.


    "Oh¡­ you brought someone with you?" Steven asked, raising an eyebrow. "He doesn''t look like your dad¡­ or your brother. Is he a new customer?"


    "Calm down," Max replied, brushing past. "He''s just here to keep an eye on me."


    Steven quickly unlocked the metal shutter, and once the two of them stepped inside, it slammed closed behind them.


    Max didn''t waste any time. He headed straight to his usual spot, already moving through his routine like muscle memory. He didn''t say another word.


    That left Steven and Aron standing awkwardly near the front desk together.


    Well this is weird, Steven thought, glancing sideways. Why am I the one getting all shy? This is my gym.


    The silence hung for a bit, but both men eventually turned their attention to Max. Aron''s eyes narrowed with interest, focused entirely on the boy.


    He watched as Max wrapped up his hands, approached one of the heavy bags, and started throwing punches, clean, sharp strikes followed by solid combinations.


    From the look of it, Aron could tell. Max wasn''t new to this. Either he''d been training for a while¡­ or he''d done this kind of thing before.


    "Hey, so um¡­ are you like his guardian or something?" Steven eventually found the nerve to ask, rubbing the back of his neck. "Or maybe, judging by the way you''re standing there¡­ you''re some kind of bodyguard?"


    "I am not at liberty to say," Aron replied smoothly, his arms crossed behind his back. "But for now, you can consider me his guardian."


    Steven curled his lip slightly.


    What kind of answer is that? he thought. If you say something like that, you''re basically yelling ''I''m a bodyguard.''


    He glanced at Max again, watching him land another solid punch on the bag. A rich kid like that, makes sense he''d have someone with him. Guess this guy''s the reason Max knows how to throw a punch.


    Oddly enough, at that very moment, Aron was having similar thoughts, just in reverse.


    His eyes scanned the photos that lined the wall behind the front desk. Medals, trophies, shots of Steven in the ring. The man clearly had a history in professional fighting.


    I wonder how long Max has been coming here¡­ Aron thought, arms still folded tightly. He''s probably the one teaching Max how to fight.


    Both of them were completely off the mark, but equally convinced they had it figured out.


    In the middle of his training, Max wiped some sweat from his forehead and walked over to the two men.


    It felt a little early for Max to be wrapping up his training, so both men glanced at each other, wondering what he was coming over for.


    What came next, though, completely caught them off guard.


    "Do you think," Max said, stopping in front of them and wiping the sweat from his brow, "you two would be up for fighting each other?"

 Chapter 40 - 40: Back At School

    While Max had been in the middle of his training, he couldn''t help but glance repeatedly at the two adults standing near the front of the gym.


    He was deep in thought, already planning how best to use the both of them in his future endeavors.


    Right now, he was tangled in the mess of Max''s life, sorting out the chaos that had spiraled too far. But once that was over, there was still something far more dangerous waiting for him, the White Tiger Gang.


    Taking them on wouldn''t be something he could handle alone.


    He understood the value of a reliable crew, people he could trust at his back. The problem was, he didn''t know the true strength of the two standing near him.


    So he was trying to come up with a way to gauge them, test their abilities without making it obvious.


    That led him to getting up and asking the question.


    "Hey, kid, what do you think you''re saying?" Steven said, raising a brow. "I know you probably grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but you can''t just tell two adults to fight like we''re your entertainment."


    "I''ll give you an extra thousand if you fight him," Max replied coolly.


    In a flash, Steven was already in the ring, cracking his knuckles and starting to warm up.


    "Young master, are you certain you want me to do this?" Aron asked, calmly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.


    "You''re supposed to be the head of my personal security, aren''t you?" Max replied. "Every now and then, it makes sense to test just how strong my security really is. Just pretend he''s trying to attack me."


    Aron''s face twitched with clear reluctance, but he didn''t question the order. He stepped forward, bent between the ropes, and entered the ring.


    It looked like a strange setup, one man dressed in a red tracksuit, hands wrapped, lightly shadowboxing in the corner¡­ and the other, standing stiff in a full black suit like he was about to present a company pitch, not throw a punch.


    "Alright!" Max called out. "The fight ends when one of you gets knocked out or gives up. And to keep things interesting, whoever wins gets an extra thousand."


    "Yes, sir!" Steven shouted immediately, practically bouncing on his feet.


    Max could already tell, if there was an easy way to control Steven, it was definitely through cash. What surprised him more was that Aron didn''t even flinch at the mention of money.


    He figured that meant Aron''s salary from his grandfather had to be pretty impressive, because it clearly wasn''t the money that motivated him.


    ''Now this should be interesting,'' Max thought, a smirk curling on his lips. ''One''s a professional boxer, the other is the head of a private security team. Honestly¡­ hard to say who''s gonna come out on top.''


    He leaned forward slightly, enjoying the suspense before giving the signal.


    "Fight!"


    As soon as the word left his mouth, Steven sprang into action. He launched forward with quick footwork, his form sharp and practiced, keeping a tight, professional stance.


    "I''m not gonna go easy on you!" Steven shouted, eyes locked in.


    "Neither am I," Aron replied smoothly.


    But something was off, Steven noticed it right away. Aron''s stance wasn''t typical. It was nothing like a trained boxer or even a brawler. Instead, he moved in an odd, almost tactical rhythm, his hand reaching for something near his waist.


    "Wait¡­ is that a¡ª?"


    Whack!


    A metal baton extended from Aron''s hand and cracked hard across Steven''s face. The boxer dropped instantly, collapsing to the floor with a thud.


    And Aron wasn''t done.


    He calmly pulled another small device from his belt and pressed it to Steven''s neck. A sharp buzz filled the air as the stun gun jolted through Steven''s body, making his limbs twitch and spasm uncontrollably.


    After a few seconds, Aron stood tall, clicked off the device, and straightened his tie. He turned to Max with a smug, satisfied expression.


    "The threat has been eliminated, young master," Aron said proudly, as if expecting Max to clap for him.


    Instead, Max just stood there, frozen in disbelief.


    "What was that?" he snapped. "I wanted to see how strong you both were in an actual fight¡ªnot... whatever that was!"


    Aron, completely unfazed, responded calmly, "Sir, if it had been a real threat, that is exactly how I would''ve handled it. The quickest and most efficient way to neutralize danger. No one in their right mind fights bare-handed if they don''t have to."


    Max let out a long sigh and shook his head. Well, that was the end of that experiment.


    Steven definitely wasn''t in any shape to fight again, not after getting zapped into the floor, and Max wasn''t too keen on watching Aron go full cyborg mode again anytime soon.


    So, the gym session ended early. Max even agreed to cover any medical expenses¡­ if there were any.


    The weekend, full of chaos and unexpected turns, finally came to a close.


    Max said his goodbyes to Aron and braced himself for what was coming next: school. Back into the lion''s den.


    The next morning, Max woke up early. He was sharp. Focused. Dressed and ready to go.


    He didn''t know what the day would throw at him, but this time, he''d be cautious. This time, he was ready.


    Walking into the school, the same heavy, suffocating air still clung to the halls. The weight of what had happened to Sam hadn''t vanished, it hadn''t even been that long.


    Still, Max noticed a few things. As he made his way through the corridors, he caught glimpses of the old habits returning. In other classrooms, the delinquents were starting up again, minor bullying here, cruel jokes there.


    Slowly but surely, the school was forgetting. Forgetting Sam. Forgetting the pain. And soon, everything would slip right back to the way it was before.


    This place seriously needs to be fixed, Max thought as his jaw clenched. Kids shouldn''t be living like this. No wonder more and more of them end up going down the same dark road I did.


    He reached his classroom. As he stepped inside, the usual noise greeted him, chatter, laughter, desks scraping against the floor. Everyone was in their spots.


    Joe sat off to the side, quietly tucked in his usual corner. But Max immediately picked up on something else, Mo wasn''t there. That was rare. Still, Ko sat in his normal place, leaning back and chatting with Joe like nothing had changed.


    As Max moved to his desk, he felt it. The sharp, darting stares, especially from Ko. But it wasn''t just him. Several others in the room were watching him too.


    Max didn''t flinch. He just kept walking. Eyes forward.


    As Max made his way to his desk, his eyes drifted to the one next to his, Sam''s old seat.


    What is that? he thought, narrowing his eyes. There was something off.


    Stepping closer, Max''s stomach turned.


    Black marker was scrawled all over the surface of Sam''s desk, mean, cruel words etched into the wood like a twisted memorial.


    "I hope there''s lots of bacon for you up there."


    "I heard they mistook him for an animal at the hospital at first."


    "Always trying to get attention even in death."


    "RIP, PIG."


    Max''s grip on the desk tightened, his knuckles whitening. Rage bubbled up from deep inside, and just as his breath grew sharp and shallow, he heard footsteps approaching behind him.


    Slive.


    One of the regulars. He wasn''t part of the main trio, but he always tagged along, throwing in his insults when it suited him.


    "Haha, look at that!" Slive laughed, stopping next to Max with a smirk. "Man, those are some good ones, right, Max?"


    He reached out and tapped Max on the back of the head, twice. On the third tap, Max snapped. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His hand shot up, grabbing Slive''s wrist mid-swing and twisting it sharply.


    Slive let out a sharp yelp of surprise, but Max didn''t let go. Not yet.


    Max''s foot slammed into the side of Slive''s leg, sweeping it out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor. Still gripping his wrist, Max didn''t let up.


    "I''m sick of it¡­ I''m sick of it all," Max growled, his voice low and trembling with fury.


    With his free hand, he reached for Slive''s fingers, and yanked. A sharp crack echoed through the classroom, silencing the murmurs and laughter in an instant.


    "I''m going to break the hands of every single person who wrote on this damned desk!" he shouted, his eyes wild, voice trembling not from fear, but from rage that had been simmering for far too long.

 Chapter 41 - 41: A Classroom Brawl

    Everyone winced as Slive writhed on the floor, his screams piercing through the air. He clutched his hand, staring wide-eyed at the bent, disfigured finger. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ahhh! My finger, my finger!" Slive wailed.


    Joe, sitting just a few desks away, felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew that pain all too well, it was sharper, deeper than the others could imagine. It was the kind of pain that left a mark, not just on the body but in the mind. And it was something he never wanted to experience again.


    Eventually, Slive''s shrieking became unbearable, and Max snapped. He lifted his foot, and without hesitation, swung it. His shoe struck Slive clean across the face, sending his head skidding along the floor.


    The room went dead silent.


    A few students jolted up from their seats, instinctively stepping back, their eyes wide with disbelief.


    "Did Max just¡­ do that?"


    "I think he finally lost it."


    "Yeah, I''ve seen it happen before¡­ Sometimes, they just break under the pressure and lash out."


    "I''ve seen breakdowns too, but¡­ this feels different."


    They all whispered, glancing around nervously. When students were pushed too far, bullied to the edge, it wasn''t unheard of for one of them to snap. They''d lash out, throw punches, toss chairs, scream until they were dragged away.


    But what Max had just done¡­ didn''t feel like a breakdown. It felt like something else. Something controlled. Something terrifying.


    It wasn''t unusual for kids who were bullied to eventually snap. To scream, throw things, flail their arms around in a desperate attempt to push back after being pushed too far.


    But Max wasn''t doing any of that.


    He stood there, perfectly still. Focused. Calm. What he had done, it didn''t look like a breakdown. It looked practiced. As if he''d done it a hundred times before.


    "Have you gone mad, Max?!" Ko shouted, stepping forward with disbelief in his eyes. "You''ve finally cracked, huh? After what happened to your little friend? Sorry big friend, I can''t believe you still haven''t learned your place!"


    Then, Ko did something unexpected, he raised his hands and clapped. Twice. Loud and sharp.


    "Everyone, clear out!" he commanded.


    Max had never seen Ko act like this before, had never heard those words from him, but it was clear they meant something. Some kind of hidden signal.


    Because, immediately, the classroom shifted.


    Students began moving, fast. Desks and chairs were pushed to the sides, scraped along the floor until the center of the room was wide open. A few of the girls and some of the quieter boys grabbed their bags and slipped out, not daring to stick around.


    One of the guys dragged Slive''s limp body across the floor, laying him out of the way.


    But the rest, twelve of them, all boys, gathered around Ko. Close-knit, standing firm, their eyes all locked on Max.


    Even Joe was among them. And every single one of them looked ready for a fight.


    Right¡­ these are all the delinquents in the class. The ones who greet Ko every morning like he''s royalty. I get it now. They''re following his lead, just like always.


    Outside the room, the students who had fled were now gathered in the hallway, peering through the glass window. Watching. Waiting. No one dared to step in.


    "Max," Ko said, his voice loud and clear. "I could tell something was different about you. You''ve been acting strange for a while now. But I''m here to show you, nothing''s changed!"


    Max slowly curled his fingers into fists as he studied the scene.


    Twelve of them. Eleven if I don''t count Joe. Can this body really handle that many at once? Max thought.


    There wasn''t time to wonder. Several of the boys charged at him across the room.


    In one swift motion, Max spun around, grabbed a chair, and hurled it at the group.


    It smashed into the legs of two boys mid-sprint, sending them tumbling over each other with loud grunts of pain.


    Without hesitation, Max dashed forward, catching even more of them off guard. He leapt into the air and delivered a devastating Superman punch, his fist driving straight into the first kid''s face.


    The force of the blow lifted the student off his feet. He crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, completely out cold.


    Right after, Max ducked beneath another punch and drove a solid kick into one of the student''s stomachs.


    The boy folded over, gasping, and Max quickly moved behind him, grabbing both of his arms and yanking him upright. In an instant, he turned the student into a makeshift shield.


    But Max didn''t hold him for long, he kicked the stunned boy forward, sending him crashing into the group.


    As the student''s body slammed into the others, Max followed up without hesitation. He stepped in and swung a wide, powerful hook, smashing it into someone''s face with everything he had.


    I have to take them out in one hit¡­ If they get back up, this is going to get a lot harder!


    Outside, the students watching through the windows were stunned, and the crowd kept growing.


    Kids from other classes, students passing through the hall, they all paused, drawn in by the commotion. Everyone wanted to see what was happening.


    "Damn, did you know Max could fight like that? He''s holding his own, and it''s just him!"


    "It''s like watching a stunt guy in a movie or something!"


    It wasn''t just the bystanders who were surprised, Joe, who had only pretended to jump in and was hanging back behind the others, was just as shocked.


    I knew he was strong, but fighting one person and going up against this many at once¡­ those are two completely different things. How did he learn to fight like this? Joe thought, stunned.


    Max, on the other hand, had lost count of how many times he''d faced situations like this, him versus a crowd. But this time was different. This wasn''t his original body.


    He''d only been training for a week. His stamina was getting there, sure, but his strength? That would take much longer to return.


    The students he''d hit earlier? They were still fighting. One of them managed to land a solid kick to Max''s stomach. He tensed just in time, but it still winded him.


    Sensing an opening, two of the students tackled him around the waist, slamming his back against the wall with a heavy thud.


    They pinned him there, locking down his arms, and Max could see a third one charging toward him, fist pulled back, aiming straight for his face.


    He tried to move his hands, but he couldn''t. They had him locked in place.


    The punch came closer and closer¡­


    Then it stopped, caught mid-air by someone else.


    "Sorry," Joe said coolly. "My hand moved on its own."


    And without hesitation, he reeled back and drove his fist into the attacker''s face, dropping him instantly.

 Chapter 42 - 42: An Enemy or Friend

    There was major confusion among the delinquents over what had just happened.


    They had always operated as a unit, one voice, one leader, and that leader was Ko. They followed his orders without question. So seeing one of their own suddenly break ranks? It threw everything off.


    That brief moment of hesitation was all Max needed.


    He drove his knee straight into the face of the student holding him, then grabbed the other by the collar and hurled him in Joe''s direction.


    The flying student tried to sidestep, not out of fear of being hit, but because he assumed Joe was still an ally, on the same side, like always.


    He was wrong.


    Joe brought his knee up hard, smashing it into the boy''s face, then tossed him like a ragdoll against the classroom wall.


    With the immediate threat cleared, Max stepped forward, catching his breath as he wiped a bit of spit from the corner of his mouth.


    "Nice one," Max said. "Looks like you''re earning your keep. I''ll throw in a bonus when this is all over."


    "Joe, what is this? Why are you over there standing right next to Max?" Ko shouted, his voice cracking. "Why would you do this?"


    Ko''s mind was nearly unraveling. Since the start of high school, he and his trio had been inseparable.


    What could''ve possibly torn them apart, so much so that Joe was now willingly fighting against him?


    They used to have fun doing everything together. Joe was like him. He wouldn''t just switch sides because he felt bad... would he?


    "I hate to say it," Max thought as he slid into a fighting stance, "but something someone told me a while ago is true, money rules all."


    The students surged forward again, but this time, Max didn''t have to face them alone.


    He quickly kicked one in the stomach, then followed it up with a clean uppercut to another''s face.


    Ducking and weaving through several punches, Max spotted another coming straight at him. Without hesitation, he kicked a desk forward, it slammed into the oncoming student, knocking him off balance.


    Then, dodging one last swing, Max grabbed the attacker by the collar. In a swift motion, he yanked him forward and drove the back of his head straight into the desk with a brutal slam.


    At first, those watching from outside were amazed by how Max was able to take on so many of them in such rapid succession. But the longer they watched him, the more something else became clear.


    They were starting to realize just how brutal his fighting style really was. Max didn''t care where he struck someone or what he used to do it. He was willing to break bones, use chairs, whatever it took.


    It wasn''t clean, and in some moments, it was hard for others to even watch.


    Off to the side, Joe was holding his own. He didn''t have as many people crowding around him as Max did, which made things a little easier.


    Only two students had come at him. Joe always felt like he was stronger than most of the kids in his class, and right now, it felt like he was proving that.


    He''d taken a few hits, his jaw was aching, but he''d dished out heavier ones in return. One of the students was now laid out on the floor, not getting up anytime soon.


    "Crap, that hurt," Joe muttered, wiggling his jaw.


    Still, he was taking advantage of something, confusion. The others were hesitating. And that gave him just the edge he needed.


    "You know what I''m starting to realize? Being the one getting hit¡­ doesn''t feel too good," Joe said, grabbing the other student by the collar, pulling his fist back to throw a punch.


    But just before he could, a leg shot between them, slamming into his face.


    Joe stumbled backward, crashing into one of the nearby bookshelves. Dazed, he looked up to see who it was, and saw Ko standing there.


    "I can''t believe it¡­ I can''t believe you''d do that to me," Ko said, his voice shaking with rage. "Was everything fake? Is this what loyalty means to you? How are we ever supposed to enjoy another day together? You''re ruining everything!" he screamed. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Joe forced himself up, his legs trembling. He needed to be ready, he could already see Ko''s leg lifting again, aiming for his stomach.


    But then, at the last second, it shifted course.


    The kick slammed right into the side of Joe''s head, snapping it to the side. His vision blurred, and before he could react, another kick drove into his stomach, sending him back into the wall again.


    Joe slid down, collapsing to the floor. His eyes fluttered shut as the room spun around him.


    "I didn''t want to hurt you myself¡­ f*ck!" Ko shouted, his voice raw and cracking.


    A heavy thud echoed behind Ko, and when he spun around, he saw Max standing there.


    His forehead was bloodied, someone had smashed a chair into him during the chaos. A thin stream of blood trickled down the side of his face, but he didn''t seem to notice or care.


    For some reason, Ko actually felt a chill. Max looked¡­ menacing. It wasn''t just the blood, it was the sight of the other students lying around him, either knocked out cold or groaning on the floor in agony, unable to move.


    "So you managed to beat up a bunch of nobodies and now you think you''re hot sh*t?" Ko shouted. "What, have you been learning martial arts or boxing or something?"


    He took a step forward, his fists clenched. "And now you''ve decided to fight back. You think taking me on is going to be the same? There''s a reason I was made the head of this class, and you''re about to find out why."


    "I already know why," Max replied coldly. "Because you''re the biggest a**hole out of all of them."


    His eyes locked onto Ko''s, sharp and filled with fury.


    "Don''t worry, Ko. I saved you for last, because you''re the worst of them all. You don''t just deserve a beating¡­ you deserve so much more."


    The crowd outside the classroom was growing by the second, pulling in even some of the teachers. But the hallway was so packed, not even they could get close. A few particular students were even using their bodies to block the way, keeping anyone from pushing through.


    Among the chaos, one girl managed to squeeze past the others. She made her way up to the window, determined to get a better look inside.


    And when she finally did, her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of the two figures still standing.


    "What the¡­ is that Max?" Sheri gasped.


    Max''s ex-fianc¨¦. One of the only people in the world who knew his real name.

 Chapter 43 - 43: The Outcome

    The students crowding the hallway had been so mesmerized and shocked by everything that had happened so far, most of them had completely forgotten to take out their phones.


    But now that it was just Max and Ko left standing in the room, phones were suddenly everywhere, raised high, recording every second of what was about to go down.


    "Hey, who do you think''s gonna win? Should we start a betting pool or something?" one student whispered.


    "I mean, Max just took out like half the class. He''s gotta be tired by now. Still, I''m kinda rooting for him. Ko and his crew were total jerks to him the whole time." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yeah, I feel like they went way too far," another agreed.


    "True, but if we''re talking about who''s gonna win... it''s probably Ko. He''s got natural talent. I heard all the sports teams begged him to join."


    "He''s fast, skilled, but hates putting effort into anything. That''s why he never signed up. Instead, he ended up living this kind of life."


    "Yeah, there''s a reason Ko''s the head of the class," another student added. "It''s because he actually knows how to fight. No one messes with him because they know they''d never win."


    Regardless of the whispers and rumors, the students were buzzing with excitement, eager to see what would happen next.


    "Haha, Max, I think you''ve been hit in the head one too many times," Ko taunted. "Let me fix that, maybe a few more hits will knock some sense into you!"


    Ko charged in, launching a high kick aimed straight for Max''s head.


    Max raised both arms just in time to block the strike, but the impact was heavy, his forearms stung, already going numb.


    ''This damned weak body!'' Max cursed internally.


    Ko didn''t slow down. A second kick slammed into Max''s stomach, forcing him back. He stumbled and felt his spine slam into one of the desks pushed against the wall.


    Seeing Max cornered, Ko rushed in again, until a whole pencil case came flying out of nowhere and smacked him right in the face.


    Items scattered everywhere, and Ko naturally blinked. Right after, he saw a large head come his way, and it was swung right into his nose.


    The full force crashing. A crack was heard and blood was gushing from Ko''s mouth.


    "The head and forehead is a lot harder and heavier than people think!" Max shouted.


    "Sure, you might know how to fight a bit, but you don''t know how to really fight!"


    While Ko was startled from the hit to the head, Max didn''t let up for a moment as he charged in.


    He could see Ko was panicked and threw out another kick, but just like before, Max had predicted this and moved to the side, and with a heavy kick of his own, had kicked the other foot still on the ground.


    He had swept him up, causing him to fall right to the floor. Right after, Max lifted his foot and slammed the heel of his foot right into Ko''s stomach.


    Forcing all of the wind and air out of his body. Ko could hardly breathe, but Max wasn''t done there, he was nowhere near done.


    He then started to drag Ko by his head, pulling him to the edge of the table.


    "You wrote all of those words on that table, right?" Max said. "You couldn''t let things go even after death. Sam can never use his hands again, and you have decided to use your hands to do something like this."


    Max then had picked up one of the pencils, and spread Ko''s hand right out on the table.


    In one smooth motion, he lifted it and slammed it right down. The pencil went right through Ko''s hand and stuck to the table, sticking out.


    "AHHHH!" Ko screamed as he felt pain run up his entire arm, and he had no clue what to do. If he tried to move his hand away, the pencil might rip further into his body.


    He went to try grab the pencil with the other hand of his, but it was grabbed by Max before he could do anything.


    "Right, a person has two hands, right?" Max said, as he placed it on the table again and grabbed another pencil, and shoved it right through Ko''s other hand, sticking them both in.


    "ARGHH!" Ko screamed once again.


    "Come on," Max said as he left Ko be to look for something else in the classroom. "How much punishment, how many things did you do a day to Max and Sam, huh? And now for one day, I give you a little pain and you can''t take it?"


    Saliva was falling from Ko''s mouth due to all the pain. He had no idea what to do as he stared at the two pencils that had lodged in his hand and were partly in the table itself.


    The children watching, some of them had stopped recording, others wanted to get it all down.


    But they were in shock, and they were afraid.


    "Hey, should we go do something¡­ if we don''t head in there¡­ do you think Max might kill him?"


    It was the worry on all of their minds. They were there every day in class; they had seen what Max went through on the daily.


    Which was why they wouldn''t be surprised that now Max had this opportunity, that he wouldn''t have gone as far as that.


    "Ko, I said you would receive the worst punishment of all," Max said as he took the cap off a marker he had found on the floor.


    He then used the marker to carefully write on his forehead. The letters spelled out M.u.r.d.e.r.e.r.


    Sheri continued to watch this outside the window, and she didn''t understand how any of this had come about.


    "What happened to him? Is this really the pushover Max¡­ that I know?" Sheri thought.


    Max then turned the table around, and Ko moved along with it, worried that his hands would suffer more pain, and now they could all see the words drawn on his hands.


    The tears and dribble flowing out of Ko''s mouth. As nearly the entire school watched.


    Several of the students were taking photos and filming it all.


    "No¡­ no¡­ stop!" Ko shouted. "Stop!!!"


    Just then, pushing through the crowded students and managing to get in the class was the homeroom teacher.


    "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS!" the teacher yelled.

 Chapter 44 - 44: Expelled?

    In a world overflowing with technology, where sharing anything was just a tap away, keeping secrets had become nearly impossible. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The videos, yes, multiple, capturing the now-infamous classroom incident were circulating like wildfire. Shot from different angles, some with commentary, others with stunned silence, they were being passed from phone to phone, screen to screen.


    By the end of the day, there wasn''t a single student in the entire school who didn''t know what had gone down. Whether they''d watched it firsthand or seen it through shaky footage and gasps in the hallways, everyone had seen. The event had quickly earned its name too¡ªThe Mad Max Incident.


    Without the videos, most probably wouldn''t have even believed it. The idea that Max, the quiet, awkward guy who barely drew attention, could have done something so extreme... it would''ve sounded like some ridiculous rumor made up for attention. But the footage didn''t lie.


    And the video hadn''t just stayed among the regular students, either.


    Outside, down a few cracked stairs that led away from the rusted metal cage beside the gym hall, Dipter was sitting casually with his legs stretched out. His phone was tilted sideways, and his sharp eyes were locked onto the screen as he watched the entire thing unfold for the third¡ªor maybe fourth¡ªtime.


    "Isn''t this, like, a huge problem?" Jay asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the fence nearby. He had already seen the video, just like the rest of them. They all had. But Dipter? Dipter was replaying it, again and again, face unreadable.


    "Yeah, I mean, that''s our target, right?" Snide chimed in, his voice unusually high with concern. "Looks like the guy''s lost it. Ko and the others must''ve really messed him up."


    Still, Dipter said nothing. Not a word. Not a smirk.


    He waited until the video ended one more time before finally lowering his phone and slipping it back into his pocket with slow precision. Only then did he glance up, his face unreadable, eyes dark with thought.


    "Who would''ve thought," Dipter muttered, still brushing the dust off his pants as he stood up, "that the whole time he actually could fight back. And from the looks of it, he''s been in more than a few fights before."


    "Not just fights," Snide added, shaking his head. "Did you see what he did? That wasn''t some outburst or fluke. He knew exactly what he was doing."


    "Yeah," Jay said. "And he didn''t hesitate, not even for a second."


    Dipter''s gaze narrowed slightly, lost in thought. "Either he''s done this before¡­ or there''s something seriously wrong going on in that head of his."


    Jay stepped forward, speaking in a quieter tone. "Do you want us to handle it? I think it''d be better than letting this get out of control. Better than the other option."


    But Dipter simply waved him off. "No. Leave it."


    "You sure?"


    "He''s already done the worst thing he could''ve done," Dipter said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Reacting like this? Going full Mad Max in front of the whole school? That''s his own downfall. He''s finished. He just doesn''t know it yet."


    ****


    The fallout from the classroom incident came swiftly.


    Every student involved, or even present, was called in for questioning. Two classrooms had been converted into temporary interview rooms, where teachers tried to piece together the chaos. Everyone had a different angle, a different detail to add, and the teachers were desperate to form a full picture of what had actually happened.


    Meanwhile, in the infirmary, the school nurse did her best to tend to the bruises, bloody noses, and busted lips. Her tray was already lined with ice packs and cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic. The air reeked of alcohol and tension.


    But Max?


    He was questioned in a room all on his own.


    It wasn''t just because he''d been at the center of the storm. It was because of what he''d done, what everyone saw him do. The staff didn''t want to risk anything escalating, especially not with the same kids involved. Whatever had happened in that room, they couldn''t let it happen again.


    Max had given his version of the story as clearly as he could. He explained that it all started when he stood up for himself, after being provoked, after the endless bullying. He said he only hit back once¡­ but that was all it took. The entire class turned on him. From that moment on, it became him against everyone else.


    He told them he did what he had to.


    That he had no choice.


    But even as the words left his mouth, Max knew how they would sound to the people on the other side of the desk. There wasn''t a better explanation he could offer, not one that would make any of this easier to swallow.


    Now, he sat alone in a classroom, the tension pressing down like a weight on his shoulders.


    ''They might expel me for this¡­'' Max thought, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. ''But honestly, that wouldn''t be the worst outcome. I already planned on getting out of here eventually.''


    His mind churned with thoughts of Dipter, the real target, the one orchestrating things behind the scenes. ''There are other ways to get to him. Other ways to find the information I need¡­''


    And yet, one thing kept gnawing at the back of his mind.


    If he was expelled, if this really was how it all ended, then why had the real Max Stern stayed through all of this? Why hadn''t he used the money? Why suffer through so much when there were options? None of it made sense.


    Just then, the silence was broken. The classroom door slid open, and standing there was Mr. Macanzie, his homeroom teacher. The man''s face was unreadable.


    "Come on, Max," he said. "We''re heading to the principal''s office."


    Max stood without saying a word, quietly following behind. The hallway felt long, the walls pressing in. When they arrived at the principal''s office, Max was immediately taken aback.


    The room was luxurious, two leather sofas, a massive polished desk, tall windows with expensive-looking curtains, and walls adorned with framed awards and artwork. Everything looked like it cost more than most people made in a year.


    ''This is a public school, right?'' Max thought as he sat down across from the principal. ''Do principals here really get paid this well?''


    Sitting across from Max was a rather short man dressed in a pinstripe suit. His balding head had clearly been carefully styled, his remaining hair slicked back in a failed attempt to cover it up. Behind him, Mr. Macanzie stood silently, now positioned behind the principal like some looming presence.


    "Max!" the principal barked, his voice sharp and full of reprimand. "Do you even realize how serious your actions were today?"


    Max didn''t respond. He could tell that the principal wasn''t looking for an answer anyway, he was just getting started.


    "The school is already in a fragile state," the principal continued. "With the recent tragedy and everything surrounding it, we''ve been walking on thin ice. And now this happens. You single-handedly turned the classroom into a war zone!"


    His voice rose in frustration as he leaned forward.


    "Do you know what kind of mess this is going to create? The parents of those students are furious. Some are already talking about pressing charges. Hospital bills will have to be covered. And because of the severity of what happened, the police will have no choice but to get involved."


    Most students in Max''s position would have gone quiet at those words. The fear of legal trouble, police involvement, and the looming threat of expulsion would have been enough to silence anyone.


    But not Max.


    Not someone who had already faced fear in much darker places. He raised his eyes slowly and looked directly at the principal.


    "So now you get involved?" Max said, his voice calm but cutting. "Tell me something, Mr. Macanzie¡­"


    He turned slightly to look over his shoulder at the teacher standing behind.


    "What''s different this time, compared to everything that happened before?"


    "You must have heard it," Max said, his voice steady but full of restrained fury. "Or maybe you saw it yourself, the countless times I was bullied. The times Sam was bullied. The bruises on our bodies. The names scrawled across our desks like we weren''t even human. It was all right there in front of you."


    He leaned forward now, not yelling, but speaking with a sharp intensity that pierced the room.


    "But it wasn''t your problem, was it? So long as no one made a scene, you could pretend it didn''t exist. Sweep it under the rug. Wipe your hands clean because it wasn''t on paper, because no one reported it in the right way."


    His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly.


    "This school did nothing for Sam. Did nothing for me. And now, the second I take things into my own hands, I''m the one being punished? I''m the one being threatened?"


    He shook his head in disbelief.


    Max had always hated the system, especially the school system. The way it turned a blind eye. The way it protected those in control and silenced those who suffered.


    "Max, what are you saying?" Mr. Macanzie finally spoke up, his voice edged with concern. "We''ve gathered countless testimonies from the students. Every single one of them said the same thing, that you went crazy. That you attacked your classmates unprovoked. They''re the ones who ended up hurt."


    Max wasn''t surprised. Of course they''d stick together. It was their word against his. A united class against a single outcast. That much, he had already expected.


    But what made Max''s blood truly boil, what caused the vein on his forehead to throb, was the name Sam. Or rather, the absence of it.


    Not once had the teacher brought him up. As if he never existed. As if what had happened to Sam had nothing to do with any of this. And that, more than anything, lit the fire in Max''s chest.


    "What the principal said earlier is important, Max," Mr. Macanzie continued, his voice colder now, more deliberate. "The police are getting involved. And since this incident happened so soon after what recently occurred¡­"


    He paused, as if savoring the moment.


    "I''ve decided to tell them the truth. That you, Max Smith, were the one constantly bullying Sam Churn."


    Max''s heart dropped. A deep, sinking feeling pulled at his chest as the words hit him.


    For a split second, he caught it, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of both the principal''s and Mr. Macanzie''s lips. Subtle, but unmistakable.


    They weren''t shocked. They weren''t confused. They were expecting this.


    ''No¡­'' Max thought, his eyes narrowing. Are they in on this? The whole damn thing?


    He clenched his fists tightly under the desk, forcing himself not to explode.

 Chapter 45 - 45: Pinning The Blame

    While the students were being interviewed one by one to give their accounts of the incident, Mr. Macanzie had decided to pay the principal a visit in advance, before any final decision was made about the matter.


    He stood in the hallway alone, right in front of the principal''s office. Before entering, he looked left and right, ensuring no one was around, then carefully unlocked the door and stepped inside.


    As soon as he shut the door behind him, the principal''s voice rang out sharply.


    "No one followed you, right?" the principal asked, his tone tense.


    "Of course not," Mr. Macanzie replied, quickly making his way to the desk, rubbing his forehead. It was clear the whole situation had him on edge.


    "I thought that after everything that happened last time, the students would calm down. And now, something this serious happens again, so soon after?"


    "You''re the one who''s worried?" the principal snapped, slamming his fist down on the desk. His forehead was drenched in sweat, far more than Mr. Macanzie''s.


    "The school board is going to chew me out over this! They''re going to say we can''t even keep control of the school, that we''ve lost grip of our students. Do you know what that means for me?!"


    He was shouting so loudly now that Mr. Macanzie couldn''t even get a word in edgewise.


    "I''m already a principal at the bottom of the list," the man ranted, pacing behind his desk. "Shifted to this dump of a school in the middle of nowhere. If this goes on my record, I''ll have nowhere left to go. No one''s going to hire a principal who can''t even manage their own students."


    He then pointed an accusing finger at Mr. Macanzie.


    "And don''t think for a second this all falls on me. You''re part of this mess too."


    Mr. Macanzie lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the floor, a look of guilt and shame crossing his face.


    "But¡­ aren''t we protected?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "They helped us out last time, didn''t they? They''ll get us through this again, right?"


    "You fool!" the principal roared, grabbing a thick book from his desk and hurling it across the room.


    It hit Mr. Macanzie square in the side before thudding onto the floor.


    "There''s always a limit to what they can do, and how far they''re willing to go!" the principal shouted. "If you had just paid better attention to your class, if you had done your job, we wouldn''t be in this mess to begin with!"


    The room fell into a heavy silence. Though no more words were exchanged, the tension was suffocating. Both men knew exactly what was at stake.


    Then, suddenly, a flash of inspiration lit up Mr. Macanzie''s face.


    "Wait¡­ I think I have a solution. An idea that might make this all¡­ go away," he said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.


    The principal sat in silence, listening with a sharp, discerning ear, fully prepared to shoot down the idea if it even sounded foolish.


    "I think¡­" Mr. Macanzie began, nervously licking his lips, "there''s a way we can make all of this disappear."


    The principal leaned forward ever so slightly, intrigued.


    "Right now, the school board is breathing down our necks because of what happened with Sam," Mr. Macanzie continued. "There are already rumors spreading across the school that he was being bullied. The police might have dropped the case for now, but this incident with Max¡­ it gives them the perfect excuse to get involved again, and this time, it''ll be much harder to make them walk away."


    He swallowed hard before saying the next part.


    "But¡­ what if we connected both incidents? What if we made Max the cause of all of it? If we pin both tragedies, the bullying, Sam''s death, and this violent outbreak, on one individual, then maybe, just maybe, we can contain the damage."


    Mr. Macanzie''s voice lowered, and he stepped closer.


    "If we frame Max as the common thread, the source of all the trouble, and expel him, maybe even recommend further action, it''ll satisfy the school board, the police, even the parents. It''s just one student, right?"


    The room was still.


    Then, slowly, the principal leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smirk.


    "I think¡­" he said, his voice calm and deliberate, "you''ve come up with a very good solution."


    ****


    And now, at this very moment, sitting across from them in the principal''s office, Max was unaware that they had already decided.


    They were going to pin everything on him.


    With so many eyewitnesses, testimonies, and even adults involved, there''s no defense he can come up with, Mr. Macanzie thought confidently. Especially if I, his homeroom teacher, speak against him. I do feel bad for you, Max, but our jobs are on the line. You can move to a new school, it won''t impact your life the way this would destroy ours.


    The principal and Mr. Macanzie waited in silence for Max to respond. He hadn''t said a word in a while, and just as the tension was starting to thicken, they noticed something strange, his shoulders were moving up and down.


    Then came the sound. Laughter. A low, amused chuckle that quickly built into full-blown laughter.


    "Hahaha!"


    "Are you alright, Max?" the principal asked, his tone tight. "You do understand how serious this situation is, don''t you?"


    Max''s laughter came to an abrupt stop. He looked up, locking eyes with both of them, his gaze sharp, unwavering.


    "You know," Max began, his voice now deadly calm, "I would''ve accepted it if you just expelled me for what I did today. That would''ve been fair. But instead, you''re trying to pin everything on me? Sam''s death, the classroom fight, all of it?"


    He leaned forward, the disappointment clear in his tone.


    "This is the decision you two, adults, the so-called role models of this school, have made? I expected better."


    He shook his head, lips curled in bitter amusement.


    "I really should''ve known better."


    Max leaned forward across the desk, getting uncomfortably close to the principal.


    "I''m going to give you one last chance," he said, his voice low and firm. "And I mean it. I''m fed up with this f*cking school. If you go through with this... I promise, you''ll regret it."


    As the principal locked eyes with Max, a chill ran down his spine. It felt like he was staring into the eyes of someone truly unhinged. With everything they''d just seen him do, the principal was beginning to feel genuine fear.


    "Look at this, now you''re threatening the principal?" he snapped, trying to maintain authority. "You''re a child who''s completely lost their mind! There''s no hope for you anymore!"


    Max didn''t respond. There was nothing more to say. Instead, he reached into his pocket and calmly pulled out his phone.


    "Who are you calling?" Mr. Macanzie asked, narrowing his eyes. "Max, your parents aren''t going to be able to save you. The situation is way beyond that."


    Max ignored him, letting the phone ring. It only rang twice before the line picked up.


    "I have a situation on my hands," Max said into the phone, eyes still fixed on the two adults in front of him. "And I need your help. The principal here is threatening me. They''re trying to pin the blame for Sam''s death on me... and quite a few other things. Do you think you could help resolve this?"


    The principal and Mr. Macanzie exchanged glances, both wearing amused smirks.


    They genuinely wondered if Max had finally lost his mind. Did he really think this little performance was going to work? That a phone call would somehow scare them? Desperate people did desperate things, especially when backed into a corner.


    "I believe I can handle it," Aron replied over the phone. "However, for this particular matter, I may need access to some of your funds. Do I have your permission?"


    "Do what you have to do," Max said calmly.


    He ended the call and leaned back in his seat, waiting in silence. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The principal and the teacher remained still as well, watching Max with mild curiosity. When nearly a full minute passed and nothing happened, they exchanged another look, this time more smug than before.


    "For a moment there, I thought something might actually happen," Mr. Macanzie said with a chuckle.


    BRRR¨C


    BRRR¨C


    The sound of the office phone vibrating on the principal''s desk cut through the air like a blade. The two men froze, their eyes slowly drifting to the source of the noise.


    It was the principal''s personal office line, one that rarely rang. And somehow, in that moment, the smile on their faces started to fade.

 Chapter 46 - 46: The Chair

    The principal reached out to his phone slowly, his hand hesitant. He wondered who could be calling him at a time like this, perhaps it was just a coincidence.


    But when he looked at the name on the screen, his heart sank. He immediately answered.


    "Ah, Chair Runstun! What a surprise to have you on the line," the principal said, his voice already shaky and pitched higher than usual.


    Because the person he was speaking to¡­ was none other than the Chair of the National Teaching Board.


    The governing body responsible for overseeing all public schools across the country, the board ensured that institutions adhered to proper standards and discipline. When disciplinary actions were required against staff, teachers, or even headmasters, it was the board that made the final decisions.


    In the case of public schools, they were also responsible for issuing funding, performance bonuses, and determining administrative placements.


    And the Chair, Runstun, was the head of that very board. As far as education went, there was no one higher up the ladder.


    Which explained why the principal''s tone had changed so dramatically the second he picked up the call.


    But what truly unsettled him, what sent a chill down his spine, was the fact that this incident hadn''t even been made public yet. The students hadn''t been dismissed. The investigation was still internal.


    The parents had no idea what had occurred. The entire matter was still very much being kept within the school, so why was the Chair calling now? S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, sir¡­ yes, sir¡­" Only the principal''s voice could be heard as he spoke into the phone, and several times, he audibly gulped.


    "But sir, we''ve yet to run a full investigation on the matter¡­ and we have¡­ yes, sir¡­ yes, sir¡­" he continued, nodding nervously until the call finally ended.


    Slowly, the principal placed his phone back on the desk, his hands trembling slightly.


    "What¡­ what was that about? Why did the Chair call?" Mr. Macenzie asked, his voice confused and uneasy.


    But the principal didn''t respond. Instead, he moved out from behind his chair, walked to Max''s side, and after a moment of hesitation, he dropped to his knees and lowered his head firmly onto the floor.


    "I apologize for everything I said! I apologize for it all!" the principal shouted. "Please, forget everything that happened and allow me to keep my job! I promise, no matter what, anything you want done at this school, it will be yours!"


    Mr. Macenzie was left speechless. His mouth hung open wide, stunned. Never in his entire career had he seen the principal on his knees like this.


    He was the one who used to make other faculty members apologize to him, and now here he was, doing this in front of a student.


    "Sir, you can''t be doing that!" Mr. Macenzie said in a panic.


    "Shut up!" the principal snapped. "If you want to keep your job and not end up plastered all over the news, then I suggest you get down here as well¡­ Now!"


    Mr. Macenzie wasn''t sure what was going on, but he quickly dropped to his knees, mimicking the principal''s posture as he bowed beside him.


    Seeing the two of them like this, groveling, after having been so smug, could only bring a smile to Max''s face. Just then, he felt his phone vibrate. Glancing at the notification, he saw the message:


    -500,000


    ''I wonder what he did with that amount of money to get this kind of reaction,'' Max thought. ''One thing''s for sure, Aron is certainly proving himself useful.''


    As the principal and the teacher nervously looked up at Max, too many thoughts swirled in their minds.


    ''Who is this kid¡­ How did he manage to get the Chair on his side?'' the principal thought, his forehead still pressed to the floor. ''No, not just on his side¡­ it was almost as if the Chair worked for him. But he''s just a regular student¡­ right? He has to be¡­ Who is this kid?''


    "I bet you''re thinking all sorts of things right now," Max said as he stood up and began pacing around the room. "But you''re not going to find your answers. Instead, I want you to do exactly what you said before.


    "First, answer my questions. Why did you want to pin the blame on me? Did someone order you to do it?" Max asked.


    It was clear to him now, he was being targeted at this school. There were too many signs pointing to it, and now that the teachers had shown they were willing to take part, he feared they might be connected to something bigger.


    "No one," the principal answered. "It was Teacher Macenzie''s idea. With everything that happened at the school, the police were going to get involved. We wouldn''t have been able to protect ourselves, so¡­ it was just easier to blame it all on you."


    Max was surprised by the honesty, but it wasn''t the answer he was really looking for.


    "So, Mr. Macenzie," Max said, turning to him. "Why the suggestion? You seemed awfully quick to offer it. On top of that, you did nothing about what happened to Sam."


    His voice grew colder.


    "When the police came, why didn''t you tell them the truth? Why didn''t anyone tell them the truth?"


    "There should have been more than enough evidence to punish them," Max continued. "Even if they brought in a top law firm, as long as the teachers were there to back it up."


    Both the principal and Mr. Macenzie were visibly nervous, trembling as they sat on their knees. Max noticed a glance from Mr. Macenzie toward the principal, almost as if he were asking for permission, whether or not he should speak.


    Max walked over and firmly stepped on the principal''s hand.


    "It was me!" the principal shouted. "I did it! I informed all of the teachers that in situations like these, they should come to me first. That I would decide what action should be taken.


    "I told them not to speak to anyone about what happened to Sam. I knew it would make the school look bad if word got out about what had really been going on here."


    Max twisted his foot harder, pressing deeper into the principal''s hand, making him groan in pain.


    Mr. Macenzie couldn''t believe what he was witnessing. This is insane, he thought. No student should be able to harm a teacher like this. How is this even happening?


    Just as Mr. Macenzie began to rise, ready to step in and "teach Max a lesson," the principal cried out in a panic.


    "STAY DOWN!" the principal yelled.


    "Why?" Max asked. "The truth is already out there, it''s spread all over the school. If anything, wouldn''t it be better for the school to just admit the problem and try to improve from it? If you were a private school, I''d understand protecting your reputation, but this is a public school. So what''s the real reason?"


    "I was paid!" the principal suddenly screamed.


    At that moment, Max finally lifted his foot off the man''s hand.


    He had suspected something was off the moment he entered the principal''s office. The luxury furniture, the expensive d¨¦cor, it all seemed far beyond what someone in his position should have been able to afford on a public school salary.


    "And who was it?" Max asked. "Who paid you?"


    "It was¡­ it was Dipter. The student, Dipter," the principal confessed, his voice shaky.


    "What the¡­" Max muttered, genuinely stunned.


    That answer had caught him completely off guard. Of all the possibilities, that wasn''t the one he expected.


    A seventeen-year-old student¡­ bribing the principal? Even in all his years working in the underworld, Max had never heard of anything like this. Not from someone that young, and certainly not in a school like this.


    He took a breath and then gave his next demand.


    "Then I want the same rules they''ve been getting," Max said coldly. "From this point on, no matter what I do, no matter how far I go, you sweep it under the rug. Got it?"

 Chapter 47 - 47: Dont Spend The Money!

    The principal was now back in his seat while Max remained in the office for a little while longer. There were still a few more details that needed to be ironed out between them. Beyond that, Max was also interested in finding out if the principal knew anything else, specifically, how a seventeen-year-old student like Dipter had the kind of money to pay off someone in his position.


    According to the principal, he was receiving a yearly bonus of $100,000, an amount that, apparently, was enough to buy his silence and cooperation.


    Sure, to Max, with the full financial power and influence of the Stern family behind him, that kind of money wasn''t exactly shocking. It explained how he''d been able to reach people even higher up the ladder than the principal. Still, the idea of a fellow student casually spending that much raised more questions than answers.


    What stood out most, however, was how the principal refused to question any of it. His silence wasn''t out of professionalism, it was rooted in fear. He was afraid of why a teenager would go to such lengths to secure freedom within a school, and even more afraid of whoever might be backing Dipter from behind the scenes.


    Regardless, the outcome was in Max''s favor now.


    He would enjoy the same privileges. No matter what happened at school, what messes he created or how far he went, the administration would do its best to bury it. Just like they had done with Dipter.


    Honestly, I probably could''ve just relied on Aron for this, Max thought to himself. But I wonder... is there a line he wouldn''t cross? Something even he would consider too unethical?


    "Are you sure about what you''re doing?" the principal asked again. "You really want to stay in this school after everything that''s happened? I''m telling you, expelling you might be the best option, for everyone. We won''t get the police involved if that''s what you''re worried about. These aren''t normal kids we''re dealing with."


    "Yes, yes," Max waved him off dismissively, as if it were no big deal. "Just remember, it''s important that you continue playing your part. Keep doing exactly what you''ve been doing."


    "Keep taking your bribes. I don''t want them getting suspicious or asking too many questions."


    "If I had to guess, I''d say the students don''t want this escalating any further either, right? Dipter, Ko, all of them would rather sweep this under the rug, as long as I stay quiet."


    "If I don''t get the police involved, and they don''t, it''s a win for everyone."


    The principal couldn''t deny that. Max was absolutely right. The students wanted this incident forgotten just as much as the school did.


    "Just tell them you managed to talk me down with a simple threat, that I agreed not to speak out in exchange for some leniency," Max continued. "And as for the hospital bills, you can tell their families to forward all medical expenses to me. I''ll cover them."


    "That way, their parents won''t have anything to complain about either."


    The principal and Mr. Macanzie had to admit, it felt like the situation was finally resolving itself, with no one getting into further trouble and no one getting hurt more than they already had.


    Still, they couldn''t shake the worry: how much deeper could this school sink now that it had come to this?


    Meanwhile, Max was pleased with the outcome. There were two reasons he hadn''t acted rashly before.


    The first was his body. He wasn''t in the same condition as his old body. He was lucky he could even fight as well as he had. The classroom fight had proven that. If Joe hadn''t stepped in to help him, Max would''ve lost that battle.


    Going up against Dipter and the rest of the school on his own wasn''t a good idea, not then, and certainly not now, not with his current strength.


    The second reason was the risk of getting expelled. He didn''t know just how far the Stern family''s influence reached, and what sort of consequences might follow. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But pushed to the edge of his patience and anger, he had called Aron, and it had worked.


    Now, he was in a position where, at the very least, he didn''t have to worry about this anymore.


    "Alright, I''ll leave this here for you, for the hospital bills," Max said, placing a card with a number written on it onto the desk. It wasn''t his own number, but Aron''s.


    Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the period and the start of the next.


    "I guess I should be getting back to class," Max added with a small grin. "It''s going to be a lot easier, and a lot quieter." With that, he turned to leave.


    But just as he reached for the door handle, Mr. Macanzie called out from behind him.


    "Wait¡­ Max," he said. "How were you able to do all of this? I mean, if you could''ve done this the whole time, why did you go through all of that? Who are you?"


    Max paused, his hand still on the door, and answered without looking back.


    "That''s¡­ what I''m trying to find out as well."


    With those words, he opened the door and walked back into the hallway.


    The students Max had injured were being taken for further check-ups at the local hospital, thanks to his generous offer to cover all their medical expenses.


    Oddly enough, most of the delinquents seemed pleased with this. Despite being sore and bruised, they essentially got a free day off school and weren''t going to complain.


    Well¡­ most of them, anyway. The few with broken fingers and especially those with holes in their hands might''ve preferred sitting through class instead.


    As Max walked through the hallways, every student''s gaze was fixed on him. A noticeable number of them even moved aside to clear the path, pressing themselves against the walls.


    ''Now this reminds me of when I was back in school,'' Max thought, suppressing a laugh, until suddenly, someone grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side.


    Turning around, he was met with the familiar sight of a woman''s back.


    "What the¡­ this again?" Max muttered under his breath, as he was dragged into an empty classroom. The door shut firmly behind them.


    "Do you do this a lot?" Max asked, now face to face with his ex-fianc¨¦e, Sheri.


    "What happened to you?" Sheri questioned, her eyes wide with concern. "Did you get hit so hard that it completely changed your personality?"


    "I saw what you did¡­ how were you even able to do all of that?"


    Max didn''t have a convenient answer. He could''ve said he had been secretly training, but what was the point of even speaking with his ex-fianc¨¦e? Hadn''t she already cut him out of her life?


    With that thought, Max decided to stay silent. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle.


    "Wait, Max, I''m worried about you!" Sheri called out. "Please tell me¡­ you didn''t use any of the money, did you?"


    Max''s hand froze on the door handle.


    ''She knows about the money.''


    "Max¡­ you didn''t use the money, did you?" she asked again, more urgency in her voice this time.

 Chapter 48 - 48: The Cost Of A Life

    Sheri Curts, Max''s ex-fianc¨¦e with a failing family business, was the only person who knew Max''s true identity.


    That he wasn''t Max Smith, but instead a member of the Stern family. A family with immense power and wealth, the kind that most people couldn''t accumulate even across several lifetimes.


    Despite all this, Aron had informed him that the only people aware of the current race to choose the next heir were the candidates themselves.


    Of course, the heirs could tell anyone they wished about their inheritance or the Stern fortune, but Max was confident Sheri didn''t know about any of that.


    After all, Sheri had apparently left Max to chase after one of the other heirs, hoping she could secure some of their money to save her family business.


    Max believed that the relationship between him and his ex-fianc¨¦e must have ended poorly. Otherwise, why wouldn''t Max have helped her out financially?


    At one point, Max did think that Sheri''s presence at the school might be valuable, that he could potentially gain some information from her. Perhaps she knew what had happened to him the day he ended up in the hospital.


    It had quickly become apparent, just from attending school, that Ko and Dipter, both names on the list, were the ones Max needed to keep an eye on. Because of that, Sheri had quickly become irrelevant, someone he no longer needed to pay attention to, until now.


    Because she clearly knew about the money they had.


    ''So he was close enough with her to tell her about it¡­ which means she''ll also know why he never used it.''


    "Max!" Sheri called out again. "Answer me, did you finally give in? Did you finally use the money? You know what happens if you do¡­ You held out for so long. That was the one good trait you had!"


    Now Max found himself at a clear crossroads. He could tell her that he had used the money and cut the conversation short, but doing so might lead him to find out nothing.


    Or he could ask her why he wasn''t supposed to use the money at all, but that would likely raise even more questions than answers.


    ''So in this situation, there''s really only one thing I can do,'' Max thought. ''I have to tell her the truth¡­ she''s not one of the heirs, and if the real Max trusted her enough to share this information, then maybe she''s not as bad a person as I thought¡­ Aron, I hope this doesn''t cause more trouble for you.''


    "Sheri, there''s something I need to tell you, something that might explain why I''ve been acting strangely¡­"


    Max went on to explain to Sheri that he had amnesia. He told her how he had woken up in the hospital with no memory of what had happened. Everything was gone, to the point that he didn''t even remember anyone at school, or the fact that he was part of the Stern family.


    It was hard for her to believe at first, but what convinced her was how completely different Max was acting, like he was a completely different person altogether.


    Of course, Max didn''t tell her the whole truth, that he was actually a man in his late thirties who had been murdered, possibly by members of his own gang, and had woken up in the body of one of the richest people in the world.


    "I¡­ didn''t even know you were in the hospital..." Sheri said, her voice soft. For the first time, Max saw what looked like genuine concern on her face.


    ''Well, there goes that. I was hoping she could at least tell me what happened there, but I guess not.''


    "The thing is, I didn''t even know you knew about the money. My grandfather only recently told me about it, but it was all left untouched, and I had no clue why."


    Immediately, Max noticed Sheri biting her fingernail, glancing nervously over her shoulder.


    "Why?" Max asked. "Why hadn''t I used the money? Why didn''t I just leave this school, with everything that was happening to me?"


    "Damn it!" Sheri said, slamming her foot on the ground. "This whole thing is so stupid.


    "I was surprised too. Our family has been in trouble for a while. I''m sure you know that. That''s why I ended up here. I left private school and came to this one. I was here before even you arrived.


    "When you transferred here, I was shocked. We were still engaged at the time, but we''d only met a few times.


    "I asked you what was going on¡­ and you wouldn''t tell me, at least not right away.


    "I''d see you walking down the halls with bruises on your face. I heard the names they called you and worse. I couldn''t stand it. And then, to make it even more confusing, I saw you were using a fake name.


    "None of it made any sense. I asked again, what was happening to you? I knew what had happened to your parents, but everything else felt ridiculous.


    "So I told you I would go to your grandfather. My family, even though we were going through tough times, still had some connections with him." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max couldn''t help but pull a face. Even though his grandfather could have helped them out, he wasn''t that type of person. Still, in this situation, seeing his grandchild like that, Max wondered if he might have stepped in.


    "You panicked the moment I mentioned it. You were completely alert. And that''s when you finally told me the truth, about everything. About the contest your family was involved in.


    "It was a crucial detail you had to share¡­ because the money, it was part of the reason why you were trapped."


    Max was waiting, finally, he would understand what was really going on. Why he hadn''t been able to use the money. Why he was stuck in this school.


    "I''m not sure if you remember her," Sheri began, "but there''s someone here you care about a lot¡­ a girl named Abby."


    Max had already run into Abby a few times. Based on how she reacted to him, it did seem like they were close.


    "You told me that if you spent even a single penny of that money¡­ they would go after her.


    "Your exact words were: ''With the amount of money they have, how much do you think it would really cost them to get rid of her?''"

 Chapter 49 - 49: IM Not Max

    The answer had finally been revealed to Max, they had been keeping his money hostage.


    With the threat to someone he cared about looming over his head, depending on how much the original Max truly cared for this person, it was no wonder he never touched the money.


    After all, this was a kid who had no one, who had already lost his entire family. Maximus knew exactly what that felt like, he had gone through the same thing.


    The White Tiger Gang and the people around him had been the light he built for himself. Maybe, for the original Max, this Abby girl had been his light. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And more than that, Max knew the answer to Sheri''s question better than she might have known herself.


    "How easy is it to get rid of someone with the kind of wealth the Stern family has?" The answer: very easy.


    The White Tiger Gang never took hit jobs. Sure, they handled intimidation, broken bones, or did what needed to be done when necessary. But assassinations, killing someone just because a client asked, was a messy business that brought too much heat. Still, Max knew of special groups out there, ones who would take that kind of job without a second thought.


    And with the kind of wealth the Stern family possessed, eliminating someone wouldn''t even register as a noticeable expense.


    "From what you told me," Sheri continued, "they were the ones who forced you to come to this school. Apparently, you knew Abby from some online game the two of you used to play.


    "They found out, and they wanted you to witness firsthand the kind of mess this school was. To see what could happen to her if you ever tried to use the money. You were forced to live this life because of that threat."


    There was now a clear question at the forefront of Max''s mind, one he needed an answer to.


    "Who was it?" Max asked. "Who told me not to use the money? It''s obvious it was one of the others¡­ one of my family members."


    "They''re the only ones who know I have access to those funds. And they''re the only ones who wouldn''t want me to use them, because using that money would take me out of this ridiculous race. So which one of them was it?"


    But there were still more questions swirling around in Max''s mind. Why did they see him as a threat? Maybe it wasn''t even personal, maybe someone simply wanted to increase their odds. In a competition like this, taking out just one person could shift the balance. And this? This was the quickest way to do it.


    But they had even gone as far as making sure he ended up in the hospital, possibly even wanting him dead.


    "I don''t know¡­" Sheri answered, her head lowered. "You would never tell me, no matter how many times I asked. But it''s clear¡­ it''s someone else from your family."


    This damned kid! Max thought angrily. He''s not making it easy to figure out who I should avoid and who I shouldn''t, but thanks to Sheri, I''m getting a clearer picture.


    Max had been unable to use the money because the threat was coming from his own family, a member who had access to the same resources and power he did.


    If he had hired security or personnel to protect Abby, they could have just hired someone else to attack her. Even with the trick he had pulled with the principal, it was something another family member could have easily done too.


    Alone in that situation, it would have been far too much for any kid to shoulder. That''s likely why the real Max had decided it was better not to use the money at all.


    Dipter¡­ he''s the one everything is funneling toward. If I can get to him, I''ll finally get my answers.


    Because of the way I''ve used the money, I doubt the family even knows I''ve touched it, which is good¡­ but confirming that someone from my own family is after my life, that''s not exactly a comforting thought.


    "Thank you for telling me everything," Max said as he headed toward the door. "It''s been bothering me for a long time, and I think I''ve finally cleared my head."


    "Wait, Max!" Sheri called out, grabbing hold of his forearm. "What are you going to do? After what you did today¡­ I''m scared. They might not even care that you''ve used the money."


    Max smiled.


    "Then the answer is simple, isn''t it? The threat in this school is Dipter. So, I get rid of him. If he''s gone, the problem''s gone. And as long as I do it with my own hands, it shouldn''t attract too much attention."


    Sheri''s grip tightened as she heard Max''s answer. She had seen how he fought, but Dipter and his gang of delinquents were too much for any one person to handle. And there was still another looming concern.


    "And what about Abby?" she asked. "Even if you manage to take them down¡­ what if they use her against you, to make you stop?"


    Max then shook his arm, forcing Sheri to let go of him. It was a rough motion, enough to make her step back in surprise.


    "Abby is not someone I know," Max said coldly. "She''s not my problem to deal with."


    "WHAT?!" Sheri shouted, stunned. "We''re talking about Abby! You constantly talked about her! She was the reason why I... the reason why I called off our engagement!"


    Her voice trembled as she went on. "I knew you had feelings for her. The way you endured everything, never once touching the money, it was the one trait I actually admired about you.


    "I know you care about that girl. I know you''d do anything for her."


    Max turned back toward her as he placed his hand on the door handle. He opened it slowly, pausing just enough to glance back at her over his shoulder.


    "That... wasn''t me who cared about her."


    ****


    Inside the principal''s office, a private meeting was taking place. Seated comfortably in the principal''s chair with his legs propped up on the desk was none other than Dipter.


    Standing nervously off to the side, sweating and tense, was the actual principal himself.


    "Are you stupid, old man?" Dipter said, his voice sharp with irritation. "You decided to sweep all of this under the rug? For the sake of your job? Pretend none of it happened?"


    "Do you even understand the situation you''re in?" Dipter said, his tone sharp and mocking. "It''s not just about the money I''ve been bringing you, or your job. Principal, you''re now a hardened criminal."


    "You can''t just take bribes from a student and turn a blind eye to everything that happens here. If anyone finds out what you''ve done, you''re not just getting fired, you''re going to prison. And trust me, I''m sure I could dig up plenty of other things on you too."


    Without hesitation, Dipter pressed the end of his cigarette right onto the principal''s polished desk, leaving a blackened burn mark.


    "But don''t worry," Dipter said casually. "It seems I was wrong about what they really wanted for him."


    He leaned back with a grin. "Turns out, the best move is to keep him in this school. That way, we can monitor him... control him."


    "I actually came here to give you that update. If we can''t get him sent to juvie, then don''t expel him. Let him stay."


    Just then, Dipter''s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the screen.


    "Oh, look at that, our client''s calling," he said with a smirk, answering the phone.

 Chapter 50 - 50: The One Behind It All

    The students who had ended up in the hospital didn''t return for the day, leaving Max''s classroom noticeably empty.


    Several seats sat vacant, and yet Max could still feel nearly every pair of eyes on him.


    Some students silently wondered how he was even allowed to remain at school, but most had convinced themselves it wasn''t Max''s fault. Surely the teachers must have seen it that way too, why else would he still be here?


    Still, after witnessing what he had done, their nerves were on edge. Every time Max so much as moved in his seat, stood up, or turned his head, others would twitch or flinch instinctively.


    Max had even noticed how, when he walked past other students'' desks, they would become oddly possessive over their pencils, either slipping them back into their cases or pushing them far out of reach, away from Max entirely.


    ''This is good,'' Max thought as he rested his head on the desk and closed his eyes. ''Now I don''t have to focus on school or deal with anything. I can just rest.''


    It was clear to everyone that Max was completely checked out, sleeping in the corner of the classroom, not paying attention to a single thing.


    Some of the students were even pointing it out to Mr. Macanzie using hand signals, too afraid to speak in case they accidentally woke Max up. Yet, Mr. Macanzie chose to leave him alone, acting as if Max wasn''t even there.


    Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and Max was free to head home. He turned around to glance back at the school building.


    ''I have a feeling things are going to start changing tomorrow. Now that I''ve made my move, it''s bound to ruffle some feathers around here... I need to prepare as much as I can with the time I have.''


    For Max, that meant heading to the gym once more, to stay sharp, keep his edge, and work out exactly what moves he could make without alerting the family member watching him or having the entire school turn on him.


    To get back into the shape he was in before, it would take him at least six months.


    Max''s instincts were right. As night fell and the city lights took over, movements were already underway in the background.


    Downtown, in the lively streets brimming with energy, bars, restaurants, pool halls, karaoke lounges, and all kinds of youth-centered entertainment buzzed with life. The majority of people in the area were university students, so Dipter and his two companions, Jay and Snide, blended in perfectly.


    That''s when they spotted the place they were looking for¡ªThe Cube.


    It was a nightclub that was impossible to miss at night, with a giant Rubik''s cube protruding from its front facade. Well-known as one of the most popular clubs in the area, it had a reputation for drawing in large crowds.


    Even now, at 10 PM on a weekday, not even a Friday, the queue outside stretched down the street. That alone was a testament to the venue''s popularity.


    But for Dipter and his friends, they walked straight past the velvet rope, heading directly to the entrance.


    "What the heck? Who do they think they are, just skipping the line like that?" one man muttered from the queue.


    Immediately, Dipter turned to look at the man and offered nothing but a smirk. As he moved forward, the two bouncers at the door nodded in acknowledgment, allowing him through without a word.


    "Make sure that guy never gets in, ever again," Dipter said loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "He should learn to mind his own business."


    The man in the queue clearly heard every word, and his friends began to protest.


    "What are you saying that for? We were already at the front of the line!" one of the girls complained.


    "Of course, if they''re walking straight to the front, the bouncers wouldn''t stop them unless there was a real issue."


    His friends gave the man a hard time, even though he was just venting his frustrations aloud.


    As Dipter entered the club, the interior was dimly lit and still mostly empty, people were only just starting to arrive. Red lights scanned over certain areas of the room, casting eerie shadows, but Dipter knew exactly where he was headed.


    The three of them made their way upstairs to the second floor, where a private room with a glass booth awaited them. Upon entering, they noticed several men and women in suits scattered around the room, their presence adding a distinct air of importance.


    One man stood alone, his back turned to the others as he looked out through the glass window at the club below. Due to the low lighting, it was hard to make out even the color of his clothes.


    Dipter took a seat alongside the other two and waited, as they usually did.


    "Let''s start with the good news first," the man said, still not turning around. "I heard you''ve been able to expand the product into several new areas. Now that you''re pushing into different territories, have you run into any problems yet?"


    "There was the usual mess here and there, but we dealt with it quickly," Dipter said casually. "But I''m guessing that''s not why you called us in for a personal meeting, just because of that."


    "No," the man replied instantly. "I want to ask you a question, am I not paying you guys enough?"


    "You''re paying us more than enough," Dipter answered without hesitation.


    Immediately, the man turned around.


    "Then why the hell am I hearing that there are problems?!" he screamed, flinging the beer bottle in his hand across the room.


    It flew right past Dipter''s face, smashing into the wall behind him. Despite the close call, Dipter didn''t flinch. He remained calm as the man stood visibly fuming, his chest rising and falling rapidly with rage.


    "Do you really see it as a problem?" Dipter replied coolly. "He''s in the same position he was in from the beginning. He''s no threat. But judging by how you''re acting, you must be at least a little worried about him.


    "So I''ll ask, what exactly do you want us to do?"


    Without a moment of hesitation, the man raised his hand and pointed directly at the three of them.


    "I want you to get rid of this headache. Do whatever it takes to deal with him. Use whatever method, whoever you need, I never want to hear that name again!" the man barked. "I don''t even care if you kill him. Just eliminate the problem, or I''ll get rid of all of you!"


    Hearing those words, Dipter stood up, and the other two followed suit. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Very well," Dipter said coldly. "If you want me to act, then I''ll act. Just make sure you don''t end up regretting your words."


    With that, he turned and left the room, already preparing himself for tomorrow.

 Chapter 51 - 51: A Peaceful Day

    After a good workout, Max had returned to his apartment. He rested well, knowing that the troubles at school had now lessened.


    There were two things he needed to sort out: the issue with the money, and the White Tiger Gang.


    Now that he had begun to unravel the reason why he couldn''t use the money, he was getting close to finally using it to further his goal, getting back at the White Tiger Gang and uncovering who had betrayed him.


    Being in a weak body, the only real advantage he had was his status as a member of the Stern family and the immense wealth at his fingertips. But if he couldn''t access that wealth, then he was just a regular, powerless high school student. It would still take time for him to regain his strength, so in the meantime, he had no choice but to handle the issues at school.


    Before heading out, Max checked his phone and saw that he had received a message.


    [Green Ranger]


    Ko and most of the students won''t be coming to school today. Seems like it''s an order from Dipter, not that I think any of them are in the condition to do anything.


    P.S. I don''t think I''ll be able to give you much more information after this. It seems I was even sent this text by accident. None of the others are going to talk to me anymore because I helped you out¡­ remember what I did? And can you at least save my name as Red Ranger? Why Green!?


    Having Joe as part of the group had been helpful for gathering some information, but he was still too low on the ladder to provide anything truly valuable. Still, Max appreciated what he had done.


    "Thanks for the tip, Green Ranger." Max replied.


    While heading to school, Max found his mind preoccupied with one particular person, Abby. The girl who was essentially holding the old Max''s money hostage.


    ''There''s a chance Abby might know more about what''s going on¡­ but I doubt it,'' Max thought. ''If the real Max cared about her that much, I don''t think he would''ve told her anything.''


    ''Nothing about who he really was, nothing about the situation he was in either. At least, that''s what I would have done. And besides, even if she did know which family member was behind all of this, asking her for information has a chance of getting her in trouble.


    ''And now that I''ve decided to do what needs to be done, it feels wrong to drag her into this. Before I make any real moves, I need to secure my main environment first.''


    Arriving at school, the classroom was just as quiet as the day before, which was all good news for Max as he made his way to his usual corner seat.


    He sat down, going through his lessons, either waiting for Dipter to make his move or thinking about what his next step should be.


    ''Come to think of it, I don''t even know what Dipter looks like,'' Max realized.


    What Max didn''t know, however, was the movement unfolding throughout the school, and all of it was converging on him.


    Meanwhile, Dipter was standing on the school rooftop for a change. He was looking down at a section of the building where he could peer through the windows and into the classrooms


    "It''s time for me to do what I''m paid to do," Dipter said as he hit send on his phone.


    Across every classroom, regardless of the year group, a message was sent out to several students.


    The heads of each class''s delinquents, their underlings, all of them received it. Some pulled out their phones under the desk, while others didn''t bother hiding them at all. The teachers had long since stopped caring enough to scold them.


    One by one, the students read the message, and once they did, smiles began to spread across their faces. A few even snickered quietly to themselves.


    In one of the classrooms, Jay Woods had received the message too. His eyes widened the moment he read it, and a troubled, uneasy expression appeared on his face.


    "Haha, did you get the message too?" Jay overheard some of the students near him whispering.


    "Yeah, it''s been a long time since we''ve done something like this. Well, I guess he''s getting what''s coming to him."


    "Don''t you think it''s a bit much? All of this just for one guy?"


    "You saw what Mad Max did, didn''t you? He''s not normal. We need to send a message, to remind people not to go against the order. Some of the kids in the classrooms are already getting cocky after seeing what happened."


    "Right, they think they can pull another Mad Max. I had one kid grab a pencil, so I shoved the damn thing right back in his mouth."


    When nothing had happened during break or lunch, Max was quite pleased. No one had acted out, and he was able to eat in peace and spend most of his day ignoring the lessons without interruption.


    This was the kind of school life he had somewhat expected, quiet enough so he could focus on dealing with the White Tiger mess in the background.


    ''If things continue like this, it might actually be better to wait until my body''s in better condition before going after Dipter. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ''If it were just the two of us in a fight, maybe I could manage something. But I doubt it''ll ever be that simple. Maybe, since I''m still young and stuck in this weaker body, I should learn how to use a weapon.


    ''I was too stubborn in the past, relying only on my fists¡­ but mastering a weapon could make all the difference now.''


    Max hadn''t even realized how deep he''d been lost in thought about his current situation until the final bell of the day had already rung.


    it was the end of the day, and for the first time in a long time, it had ended without a single incident.


    As Max walked over toward the door, he slid it open, only to find a large student standing right in front of him. The guy was built like a brick wall.


    Max looked up, staring at the towering figure''s face.


    "You need to follow me. It''s Dipter''s orders," Jay Woods said.

 Chapter 52 - 52: A Meeting Of Death

    Max continued to stare up at the mountain of muscle standing in front of him. The student was the kind of person one would have a hard time believing wasn''t already a full-grown adult.


    It was exactly the type of person Max knew he wasn''t ready to face yet. Guys like this, huge, experienced delinquents, were always the toughest to fight. Even with Max''s skills and experience, larger opponents were harder to take down. And considering the student had mentioned Dipter''s name, Max could tell this guy wasn''t just muscle, he could fight too.


    "Damn, is that Jay Woods?" one of the nearby students whispered.


    "Crap, Max is done for. I knew he overdid it recently. Looks like they''re really going after him now."


    Thanks to the students'' whispers, Max now had a name to go with the face, Jay Woods.


    "Do I have a choice in this?" Max asked. "If I try to leave, are you going to stop me?"


    Jay looked down at him, his expression stone cold, unreadable.


    "It''s best if you follow me," he said. "Unless you want them to go after the girl."


    It was a good thing that certain events had unfolded in a particular order. Up until yesterday, Max wouldn''t have known who the girl they were referring to even was.


    He considered trying to shove past Jay and make a run for it down the hall, or perhaps agree to go with him and escape later. But there was one thought that kept sticking in his mind: Sam.


    Sam''s life had been drastically altered because of Max''s actions. And now, there was a very real chance the same could happen to Abby.


    ''It''s okay¡­ it''ll be all right. Because at the end of this, I still have something to use. If I can''t get out of a tough situation, I have a lifeline.''


    Max gave a small nod, and immediately, Jay started moving. The two of them began walking down the hallway together.


    "Don''t run off," Jay said. "I''m faster than I look. And doing that will only bring more trouble for everyone."


    Although Max wasn''t planning to run, he knew he still needed contingencies, because right now, his only lifeline was his phone.


    He pulled it out, and while Jay glanced over, he didn''t say anything. He had already given his warning.


    "Green, can you give me some information on Jay Woods?"


    It didn''t take long for a message to come back.


    "Holy crap, they sent Jay Woods after you?! Good luck, knowing you, you''ll need it. No, but seriously, that guy''s a monster. I didn''t think they''d escalate things this far just because you beat up Ko. No one even liked Ko. He was like that annoying little brother in every story who always gets captured or something.


    Anyway, he''s strong, really strong. Don''t fight him if you can help it."


    The messages only confirmed what Max had already suspected. And what made things worse was the realization that they were now heading outside of the school grounds.


    As they walked down the streets, Max kept track of their route, and it became clear that they had arrived at the entrance of a construction site.


    ''This is way too well planned¡­ this Dipter guy knows exactly what he''s doing,'' Max thought. ''A construction site still in its early stages, there won''t be any security cameras. And if someone like Dipter can afford to pay off the principal, getting a few construction workers or guards to take the day off? Easy.'' S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As expected, they were able to walk straight through the barrier without a single person in sight.


    They continued walking until Max eventually came to a halt. Up ahead was an empty building, it looked like the bare skeleton of an unfinished apartment complex. The pillars were in place, but the outer walls hadn''t been constructed.


    "If I walk in there, I''ll be walking straight into my own death," Max muttered.


    Jay turned around to face him.


    "We only want to talk," he replied calmly. "If we wanted to beat you up, or get rid of you, we could''ve done it back at school. Nothing stopped us before, and nothing will stop us now."


    The group still believed they had the principal completely under their thumb, so the logic made sense. But something about the whole situation didn''t sit right with Max.


    If they really wanted to talk¡­ why not just do it at school?


    "A simple conversation at school wasn''t possible?" Max asked.


    "This isn''t a school matter," Jay replied. "It''s personal, and personal things need to be handled outside of school grounds."


    "Max, you won''t lose your life. I can promise you that," he added. "We''re just students, all trying to live our lives and get by. This isn''t personal, it''s just business. And I''m not in the business of killing other students."


    The words spoken by Jay felt surprisingly genuine. Maybe it was because of all the years Max had spent in the underworld that he was taking these events a little too seriously.


    As Jay said, they were students. High school bullies. For them to go as far as murder¡­ that wasn''t something easy to do, or typical of people their age.


    Max took a deep breath and walked forward, entering the construction site. That''s when he saw a single person sitting on a chair, turned backward. He was relatively small, with a strange, creepy smile stretched across his face.


    Is that Dipter? Max wondered. It wasn''t at all how he had imagined him.


    Soon after, Max found himself standing in the middle of the empty space while Jay walked over to the seated figure''s side.


    "Max, I don''t think the two of us have officially met!" the person said. "My name''s Snide, but I''m sure you already knew that."


    "I''m here on behalf of Dipter," Snide continued, "he asked me to call you here for a little meeting, you see."


    "We saw the video, what you did to Ko, and we have to admit, we were impressed. So we''re here to ask¡­ would you like to join us? And let me add one more thing, if you do, I promise you, you''ll obtain wealth beyond your imagination."

 Chapter 53 - 53: Not Like The Movies

    The last line that came out of Snide''s mouth nearly made Max burst out laughing. He had to lower his head slightly, pretending to study the floor so Snide wouldn''t catch the grin threatening to stretch across his face.


    "Make more money than I could ever dream of?" Max thought. If there''s one person in the world you shouldn''t say that to¡­ it''s me. Oh, if only you knew just how much this ''kid'' is worth.


    Pushing the smirk away and composing himself, Max slowly raised his head again. Because, honestly? The offer on the table was pretty interesting. Unexpected, but interesting.


    "To join you?" Max repeated, his voice steady, almost curious. "And what exactly does that mean? Am I joining you two, Jay and Snide? Or are we talking about something bigger¡­ like joining Dipter?"


    He paused for just a second before leaning in slightly.


    "Or maybe¡­ it''s someone else altogether. Whoever it is you''re really working for."


    It was a loaded question, and Max knew it. But it was important. If this offer was coming straight from Dipter, that was one thing, but if it came from someone higher up, someone pulling strings from the shadows, then Max needed to know. Because that meant they weren''t acting on their own. It meant this whole situation was deeper than it looked on the surface.


    Snide''s shoulders began to shake, a low chuckle escaping through his teeth like he was trying, and failing, not to laugh.


    "Oh, I like you," Snide replied with a sly grin. "Makes me wonder if you''ve always been like this. Not many in our group think things through, or fight the way you do."


    He leaned back a bit, casually waving his hand through the air.


    "When I say join us, I mean exactly that, this little unit here. Maybe Dipter''s included in that, maybe not. Who knows? But what we''ve got going on... it''s smooth. Real smooth. Something no student from any other school could even dream of touching."


    Snide''s grin widened, but there was a glint in his eye, like he knew he was dangling something irresistible in front of Max.


    "I can''t get into all the details just yet, since, y''know, you''re not exactly with us. But I can tell you this, it''s lucrative. Very lucrative."


    Max held back a sigh. So much for the dramatic villain monologue, he thought. Where''s the part where they spill their whole master plan, brag about their empire, and give away all the juicy details?


    No such luck.


    Instead, Max decided to push a little further.


    "And why exactly do you want me to join you?" he asked, keeping his tone calm. "You guys seem strong enough already¡­ and I''m pretty sure not everyone would be thrilled about me being on your team."


    Especially the one person backing this whole operation, someone from the Stern family. The irony was almost laughable. Snide and the others clearly had no idea who Max really was. And that? That could either be the greatest advantage of all¡­ or the most dangerous.


    "Haha, you might be right about that," Snide chuckled, tilting his head with amusement. "As expected, you''re smarter than everyone gives you credit for. You figured out you were being targeted, didn''t you? Makes me wonder what it is about you... but honestly, that''s even more reason for you to join us."


    He leaned forward slightly, like he was about to let Max in on a secret.


    "See, Dipter gave me one job, make sure you''re no longer a problem. But if you join us? Then that''s problem solved. Nice and clean. For both sides, I think."


    Snide paused, biting his lip like he was debating whether to continue. Then that mischievous grin returned.


    "And on top of that¡­ maybe I shouldn''t say," he teased, a snicker already escaping his lips. "Ah, screw it. I''ll tell you. Doesn''t really matter whether you join or not.


    "Our client''s been arrogant for far too long. Dipter''s sick of taking orders, so he''s planning something big. He wants to take over everything, all of the operations our client runs. Soon, it won''t matter what that client wants. It''ll all belong to Dipter."


    Max''s expression didn''t change, but Jay noticed it, the subtle tension that ran through his body, the way his fists clenched tight at his sides. Something in that last part had hit a nerve.


    "You''re planning on betraying your client?" Max asked quietly.


    But inside, his thoughts were spiraling. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Cubs.


    Memories flashed, of all the people he had protected, trained, fought alongside. His so-called family. And someone among them... had betrayed him too.


    He wondered if the ones who''d betrayed him in the past had sat through conversations just like this, charming offers layered with lies. The thought twisted in his gut, sitting heavy and wrong.


    "I''ll make you a deal," Max said, steadying his voice. "You tell me who this ''client'' of yours is, the one who put the target on my back, and I''ll consider joining you. After all¡­ you said it wouldn''t matter, right?"


    Snide''s grin didn''t falter, but a mocking tone slid into his voice.


    "Oh? Do you really think you''re in a position to negotiate?" he asked, laughing under his breath. "I''ve already told you more than I should have. And just so we''re clear, I was given a very simple job by Dipter: make sure you''re no longer a problem."


    He raised two fingers.


    "And there are two ways to handle that."


    Max didn''t flinch. He''d already made his decision the second Snide opened his mouth. With a slow, deliberate motion, Max lifted his hand, and flipped him the middle finger.


    "F*ck you," Max said coldly. "You backstabbing cowards. I''d rather rot than work with people like you."


    Snide''s smirk widened.


    "I was really hoping you''d say that."


    From the shadows and the upper floors, the sound of footsteps echoed. Loud, rhythmic, closing in.


    Max''s eyes darted around, and then he saw them. Dozens of students stepping out from behind pillars, stairwells, and the half-built ledges above. All of them were from his school. All of them were delinquents.


    And not a single one of them came empty-handed.


    Some held bike chains, others gripped metal or wooden baseball bats, and a few had pocket knives glinting in the low light. Every single one of them looked like they''d walked straight out of a nightmare version of high school. In total, there had to be at least fifty students, forming a wide, tight circle around the skeletal building. There was no path out, no alley to slip through, no gap to squeeze by. Just fifty weapons and fifty pairs of eyes locked onto Max.


    Fifty to one.


    No escape.


    Maybe I should''ve trusted my instincts, Max thought, biting down on a bitter laugh. Thinking high school delinquents wouldn''t go as far as the real criminals I knew... These kids might actually be worse. Where are the parents? The teachers? How is this the world we live in?


    Snide stepped forward slightly, arms loose at his sides, eyes watching Max like a vulture circling prey.


    "So¡­ do you care to change your answer?"


    Max didn''t blink. Instead, he slowly pulled off his school blazer, wrapped it tightly around his left arm, building up the fabric until it looked like a makeshift shield.


    "There''s a rumor about me," he said, lifting his chin. "Well¡­ it wasn''t really a rumor."


    His voice carried across the silence, heavy and sharp.


    "You''d need more than a hundred people to take me down."


    Then his eyes snapped to Snide.


    "So no. My answer''s still the same."


    Max raised his unwrapped arm, and gave them the middle finger again.


    "F*ck you!"


    Snide didn''t waste a second.


    "GET HIM!"


    The entire ring of students erupted in motion, screaming and charging forward with weapons raised.


    And even Max, who''d stared death in the face more times than most, felt his pulse spike.


    This... this one''s going to be tough.

 Chapter 54 - 54: Dead Again?

    Max watched as the sea of students rushed him from all sides. Fifty bodies. Fifty weapons. One target.


    Being in the center of the chaos was a death sentence. He knew better than to stand still and wait for the pain to come to him.


    No¡­ I have to break through.


    With a sharp inhale, Max sprinted forward, straight toward one of the groups, catching them off guard. One of the students, wide-eyed and too slow to react properly, swung his bat downward in panic.


    Max''s leg snapped up fast. CRACK. His boot connected with the kid''s face, lifting his entire body off the ground. The student''s grip slackened, the bat clattering to the floor as he crumpled backward.


    ''I have to keep charging forward,'' Max thought, weaving between bodies. ''If I stop, the ones on the sides will collapse in and it''s over.''


    Another student whipped a bike chain toward him, the sharp metal hissing through the air. Max raised his blazer-wrapped arm and caught the hit with a loud CLANG. The thick padding absorbed most of the damage, the chain wrapping around his arm like a venomous snake trying to sink in.


    Using the distraction, Max twisted his body, his right arm still free. He slammed his fist into the jaw of the nearest attacker, knocking them back into another student. No time to hesitate. He pivoted and threw a tight elbow into the cheek of the next one, their head whipping to the side as they collapsed.


    But then, in the corner of his eye, he saw them, the real threats.


    One of the students came at Max, brandishing a small knife with wild, twitchy hands. But Max didn''t hesitate. He surged forward, fearless, smashing his heavily wrapped arm against the student''s wrist and knocking the blade off course. In the same motion, his foot shot up, landing a powerful kick straight into the kid''s stomach.


    The attacker folded with a grunt, but Max didn''t stop to watch him fall. He dropped to the ground and rolled, scrambling toward a more open space, somewhere, anywhere, he could maneuver better.


    Up on the sidelines, Snide was grinning ear to ear, perched on his seat like a spectator at a private gladiator match.


    "He''s quite the feisty one, isn''t he?" he said, his voice practically buzzing with delight. "Watching it on video is one thing, but seeing him in person, this is something else."


    Jay stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "He knows how to fight," he muttered. "The second the crowd closed in, he moved like he''d been through it all before."


    Jay didn''t miss the details others might have. Max wrapping his blazer around his arm, most would''ve thought it pointless. But Jay saw it for what it was: instinct. A natural response from someone who''d been through real violence. Someone who had fought weapon-wielding opponents again and again, and lived to tell the tale.


    The same thing Jay saw in the video, he was watching it play out again right now. Max wasn''t improvising. He was surviving the way only someone seasoned by chaos could.


    On the ground, Max kept using the bodies around him to block attacks, shoving stunned students into each other as he fought his way through the chaos. But there was something different this time.


    Unlike real fighters, these delinquents didn''t care who they hit. Even when Max threw one of their own between him and a swinging chain, they didn''t stop. The bat cracked against the boy''s back. The chain whipped around an ally''s shoulder. They didn''t hesitate. They just kept swinging.


    Eventually, Max managed to snag a bat off the ground. Just in time, another student came charging at him, swinging down hard. Max lifted the bat and caught the blow, the metal clashing with a sharp crack.


    But pain followed right after. Another student had come up behind him and slammed a bat straight into his back.


    "Grrgh!" Max gritted his teeth, his body screaming in protest. The impact rattled through his spine, but he didn''t stop.


    He lashed out, slamming his knee into the guy in front of him, landing the blow square between the thighs. As the student crumpled, Max turned, jabbing the end of the bat into another kid rushing in. Then he twisted and smashed it across the face of the one who''d hit him from behind.


    He wasn''t holding back. Every swing had weight, every strike packed with full force. It wasn''t about teaching a lesson, it was about surviving. Max fought like his life depended on it, because in his mind, it did. Just like every brutal fight he''d clawed his way through in the past.


    With a furious shout, Max spun and let the bat fly in a wide arc, slamming into several students who''d dared to close the distance. Bodies stumbled back, groaning and clutching bruises.


    The only thing working in his favor right now was how good he actually was. The way he fought made even these delinquents hesitate. Some of them flinched before charging in, second-guessing their chances against the storm that was Max.


    And that hesitation? That was his only saving grace.


    Because if they''d all swarmed him at once, if they hadn''t been scared, this fight would''ve been over a long time ago.


    This isn''t good... I''m wearing out. This is getting way too tiring. Max thought, his breaths growing heavier with each second.


    Luckily, he had managed to reposition himself with his back against one of the few completed walls of the construction site.


    To most, it might have looked like he''d cornered himself, but Max saw it differently. With the wall behind him, he didn''t have to worry about attacks from the rear. Now, he could focus every ounce of his strength and attention on the enemies coming from the front.


    Not far off, Snide was still watching the chaos unfold, casually spinning a small pocket knife in his fingers. Around and around it went, dancing over his knuckles, flipping through his hand, only to land back in his palm. He kept playing with it, over and over, never letting it stop.


    "I still can''t believe it," Snide said with a smirk, eyes locked on Max. "He was bullied for an entire year since he transferred here. Not once did he fight back... and now he''s doing this? Maybe if he''d been born into a different life, he would''ve been somebody."


    Snide gave a light shrug, twirling the knife again. "Too bad. He was just unlucky. But hey, in the end, this was his decision."


    Jay, standing at his side, crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. "I still don''t think we needed to go this far."


    Max was still fighting, but it was getting harder with every passing second. He managed to block a hit and throw a punch, but each time he did, another blow would land, across his face, into his ribs, and he could feel his body screaming with pain.


    From afar, Jay was still watching the chaos unfold, arms folded tightly across his chest. "You know," he muttered, "either of us could''ve taken him on ourselves. We could''ve handled it at school, taught him a lesson, made sure he never stepped out of line again."


    Snide shook his head, his eyes fixed on Max like a hawk circling its prey. "Yeah, but that''s not good enough," he replied coolly. "We gotta make sure the client doesn''t get suspicious about our plans. Keep him happy, make it look like we''re doing what he asked. If we don''t take care of this, we risk everything. He finds out what we''re really doing, we''re done."


    Back in the fray, Max gripped another bat with trembling hands. He could feel his energy draining fast. He raised it for another swing, but it was weak, so weak that his opponent grabbed it before it could connect.


    But Max wasn''t done. With a roar, he threw his entire body forward, shoving the bat with all his strength and bulldozing his way through the wall of bodies.


    I have to get out of here. Now! he told himself, chest heaving. He broke through the crowd, finally reaching the other side.


    Just one step. One sprint. That''s all he needed.


    But then, white-hot pain.


    A stabbing, searing bolt that pierced right through his shoulder. His body jerked, freezing mid-movement. Slowly, Max turned his head and saw it, a knife, buried deep into his flesh. His white school shirt quickly turned crimson, the blood soaking through like ink on paper.


    "Perfect hit," Snide said from the distance, standing tall with his arm extended in a follow-through stance, a satisfied smirk on his face. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I''ve been¡­ stabbed, Max realized, his vision swimming, the pain taking over.

 Chapter 55 - 55: The Second Worst Day Of My Life

    The stinging pain in Max''s shoulder, it wasn''t exactly a mystery. He had a pretty good idea what had happened. After all, it wasn''t the first time he''d been stabbed. And to top it off, it hadn''t even been that long ago that he''d been stabbed multiple times already.


    Which was why he couldn''t help himself. He turned his head, twisting just enough to get a look at his back, and sure enough, there it was. A blade lodged right into him, confirming his worst thoughts.


    Tremors rocked through his entire body, his hands beginning to shake uncontrollably.


    Crap¡­ it''s shaking, Max thought, his heart racing faster than it had during the fight. It''s not even the pain. Is it because of what happened before? Right before I died?


    Get a grip. I need to get a grip! Max screamed at himself internally, trying to lock down the rising panic.


    Across from him, Snide''s loud, obnoxious laugh rang out.


    "Hahaha! I knew it would work! Practicing on that wall finally paid offs, did you see that? Nailed him perfectly!" Snide beamed, clearly proud of himself.


    He turned to Jay, hoping to share the moment. But Jay wasn''t even looking at him. His cold, emotionless eyes were locked on Max, not a single hint of amusement on his face.


    "Man, you''re as boring as ever," Snide said, rolling his eyes with a scoff.


    "AHHH!"


    A sudden loud scream tore through the air, snapping Snide''s attention back to Max.


    One of the students who had been standing in front of Max had crumpled to his knees, both hands desperately cupping his gremlin makers, his face twisted in pure agony.


    Max had gone for one of his trademark moves, the kind he only used in desperate times. But even with that, there was still a wall of people crowding in front of him.


    "I''ve never done this before, but there''s a first time for everything!" Max shouted.


    Without hesitation, he charged toward the nearest guy, planting his foot firmly onto the hunched-over student''s shoulder. Using every ounce of strength he had left, Max launched himself into the air, soaring right over the row of stunned students.


    As the ground rushed up to meet him, Max didn''t even have to think, his body moved on instinct. He tucked in and rolled the moment he hit the floor, trying to absorb the impact.


    But during the roll, he felt it, the knife lodged in his shoulder bent sharply to the side and then slid out, clattering somewhere onto the ground behind him.


    AHHH, THAT HURTS! Max screamed internally, pain flashing white across his vision. Still, he forced himself to move. He couldn''t afford to stop. Letting the adrenaline do its work, Max pushed himself up and sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him.


    "What are you idiots doing just standing around for? Get him! All of you!" Snide screamed furiously from behind. "And you too, you lump!"


    The students jolted into action, charging after Max, while Jay followed at a calmer but no less determined pace, not far behind.


    ****


    Out walking through the streets for a casual stroll was a well-dressed, short blonde-haired girl.


    She had just stepped out from the hair salon, feeling fresh, and was lazily window shopping on her way back from the local high street.


    As she browsed, she held her phone to her ear, chatting easily with her best friend. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Cindy, I can''t believe you''re even going out on your own after what happened to us last time. Aren''t you scared?" Abby asked, her voice full of concern.


    Abby, in contrast, was currently curled up at home, wrapped tightly in her sheets like a cocoon. She hadn''t gone out with Cindy since the last incident, but they still stayed close, chatting on the phone just like they were now.


    "Come on, I''m not in the city center," Cindy replied, laughing it off. "I just went to our local area, that''s all."


    "THAT''S WORSE!" Abby practically screamed, making Cindy wince and pull the phone away from her ear.


    "Did you forget what type of school we go to? What they''re like in class?" Abby continued. "They''re the ones that hang around the streets too! It''s even more dangerous!"


    Cindy rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Her best friend could be a little dramatic, but she knew Abby''s worry came from a good place.


    "Come on, I''m not like you," Cindy said with a grin. "I can''t just stay at home all day. I need to get out, and that was a one-time thing... hey, change of subject though," she added, her voice brightening. "Speaking of dangerous people, I never knew your boyfriend was so dangerous."


    "Are you talking about Max?" Abby replied, already sensing where this was going.


    "Yeah! You saw the video, right? I mean, everyone''s seen it. Did you know he had that side to him? That he could actually do all of that? I guess he just got pushed too far. If you ask me, all those bullies deserved it, but still, it was kind of a shock."


    "Yeah..." Abby answered, her voice soft as she let out an audible sigh. "Honestly, I don''t even know if I know who the real Max is anymore... things just, don''t feel the same as they did before."


    "Cheer up! Max finally fought back!" Cindy replied, trying to lift the mood. "After what he did, those bullies won''t even think about messing with him again. Who knows, he might actually be having the best time of his life right now."


    ****


    "Fck, fck, f*ck!" Max cursed under his breath as he kept running. "This might actually be the second worst day of my life. The first being the damned day I died!"


    Max was sprinting like his life depended on it, which, honestly, it kind of did, and he could hear the chaotic stomping of quite a few people chasing after him. In his panic, he had ended up circling around the construction site instead of sprinting straight out like he should have.


    Luckily, the place was a mess of scaffolding, stacked materials, and half-built walls, creating plenty of obstacles for him to weave through and gain some distance from the mob at his back.


    Max had done a lot of cardio training over the last week and a half. He knew how important it was. And when your life was hanging by a thread, your body could pull off some pretty insane feats.


    But there was one big problem, he could feel it, the steady drip of blood coming from his shoulder wound.


    ''Why the hell did the knife have to fall out?!'' Max thought, gritting his teeth. ''If it had stayed in, at least it would''ve kept some of the bleeding in check. Now I''m leaking like a faucet. I can''t even afford to hide somewhere, they''d just find the blood trail and hunt me down.''


    Scanning ahead, Max spotted several exits, one down to his left and another straight ahead. Without hesitating, he angled toward the left, but just as he was about to dart off, a rough hand grabbed him by the collar and hurled him straight to the ground.


    To his left, Max crashed into a pile of heavy concrete sacks, grunting as dust puffed up around him. Shaking his head, he quickly looked up, and froze.


    Standing there, blocking the path like a literal wall of muscle, was a figure with his back still turned toward him.


    "Everyone, hurry!" the student barked out to the others. "He exited out that way! Find him and chase him down!"


    The pounding of feet grew louder, then slowly faded as the crowd rushed off in the wrong direction.


    The student stayed there, unmoving, making sure the others were well out of sight. And when he finally turned around, Max got a clear look at his face.


    "Jay..." Max muttered, staring up at him in disbelief.

 Chapter 56 - 56: A Big Favour

    It was completely unexpected. Max hadn''t even seen it coming, how Jay had predicted where he''d be and yanked him down to safety.


    It showed Jay had instincts, real ones. But out of everything, the part that surprised Max the most was that this giant wall of muscle had clearly lied, shouting to throw everyone off, sending the others charging in the wrong direction.


    Max didn''t waste a second. He scrambled to his feet, not daring to linger. Who knew how long it would take for the others to realize they''d been tricked? Still, he had to ask.


    "Why?" Max said, panting. "Why did you help me? You know Dipter''s not going to be happy about this."


    Jay just shrugged, completely casual about it, like none of this was a big deal. "As if you''d be dumb enough to tell them," he said. "And besides, you don''t seem like the type to repay a favor like that with betrayal."


    He spoke so matter-of-factly that Max almost forgot the situation they were in.


    "I meant what I said back at the classroom," Jay continued. "I really thought they just wanted to talk to you. I had no idea they were planning this, gathering so many people... and with weapons too."


    "If it was just me," Jay said, his voice low, "I would''ve dealt with it using my fists. What they did back there... it made me sick. I always act based on how I feel, and that? That didn''t feel right. Someone like you, who fights head-on, shouldn''t be taken out like that."


    It was rare, finding someone like Jay. Someone who had his own code, his own morals, and still had the guts to stand by them, even if it meant going against everyone else.


    From what Max had seen and heard, he actually liked Jay. It was just a shame they were standing on opposite sides.


    "I''ll repay you for this favor," Max said, nodding once as he walked past Jay. There wasn''t anything else he could do for now, hanging around would just drag Jay into even bigger trouble.


    "If you ever get into any mess, any kind of trouble... come find me. I''ll help you, however I can."


    Without another word, Max broke into a sprint, racing down the dim streets. He knew the others would still be combing the area, searching high and low for him. If he wanted to make it out, he had to move fast.


    Behind him, Jay stayed back, watching him disappear into the night.


    "You''re the one offering to help me, huh?" Jay said under his breath, a small chuckle escaping him. "How could a nobody like you possibly help someone like me... but those were some good words, kid. Real good words."


    ****


    Max kept running through the streets, his breath ragged, his legs moving purely on instinct now. He hadn''t spent much time in this city, not enough to really know his way around, so he was relying on gut feeling alone to find his way back.


    He ducked around corners, crossed empty roads, cutting through alleyways without thinking twice. Only when he was sure the coast was clear did he finally pull out his phone. At least with that, he could pull up some directions and map out a route back home.


    But there was another problem. He could feel it, blood still dripping from his back, slowly but steadily. The wound must have been deep if it was still bleeding like this.


    And now, with no one chasing him anymore, the adrenaline that had been fueling him was starting to crash hard. His vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting slightly with every step.


    "Damn it!" Max cursed under his breath, looking down at the screen. Several missed calls lit up the phone. All from the same contact, the Stalker.


    "So much for being some special security team," Max grumbled. "My ace up my sleeve ended up being worth nothing after all."


    In the back of his mind, there was this gnawing feeling, something he hadn''t wanted to admit before. A part of him had always suspected it.


    This whole thing had been a setup.


    Max wasn''t as naive as Jay. He had known from the start there would be trouble, he just hadn''t expected it to be this bad. He hadn''t expected them to be armed.


    In his current state, Max knew he had no chance of taking on that many people, armed or not. That was why, in his desperation, he had messaged Aron.


    The thing was, in the rush, Max had left out quite a lot of important details. His message had been simple, blunt: Come now. ASAP.


    No location. No other instructions.


    Max had just assumed that the phones would''ve been bugged, that someone, anyone, would be tracking where he was at all times.


    He even thought that, despite what Aron had said about there being no security during the weekdays, there would still be some people watching him from the shadows.


    If not Aron, then at least some other members of the Stern family, interested in how things were playing out.


    But clearly, that wasn''t the case.


    With how pathetic the so-called security team had been so far, it was no wonder he had ended up in such a tragic situation.


    ''I thought... based on what he did at that party, he was loyal... but I have to remember,'' Max thought bitterly, ''for the real Max to have ended up in the hospital in the first place... they had to have gotten to him somehow. And if it were me¡ª''


    Max''s thoughts tightened like a noose, the grim realization hitting him square in the chest.


    ''¡ªthe easiest way to get to him... is through the people who are supposed to protect him.''


    ''I have to start thinking that anyone could be an enemy... including Aron,'' Max realized grimly. ''Everything he did at that party, there''s a high chance it was all just an act. And if that''s true... then this whole situation has turned into an even bigger pain in the ass than my old life ever was.''


    Just then, his phone buzzed again, another incoming call from Aron.


    And not just calls, several desperate messages had been sent too.


    Each one sounded more frantic than the last, all of them begging him to reply, pleading that if he was in trouble, he needed to say something, and that Aron would get to him as soon as possible.


    Max stared at the screen, his vision blurring, the messages smearing together into unreadable streaks.


    ''I never did get the full story out of him,'' Max thought, frustration gnawing at him. ''I was too messed up back then... after Sam''s death. I couldn''t think straight.''


    The truth was, as much as he hated it, in the state he was in now, could he really afford not to rely on Aron?


    His breathing was getting heavier, his strength fading fast. Blood still dripped steadily from the wound in his shoulder.


    Max stumbled, leaning heavily against the wall to his side just to keep himself standing. He needed a second. A moment to catch his breath, to steady the shaking in his legs, to try and clear his spinning vision.


    When he looked back at his phone, even that small effort made his head swim. The screen was blurry, the words fuzzy and hard to read.


    He didn''t have much time left to make a decision.


    "Is that... is that you, Max?" a high voice called out. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max lifted his heavy head, blinking through the haze clouding his vision. In front of him stood a blonde-haired woman, her face blurred at first. He squinted, trying to focus, but even then, he had no clue who she was.


    Still, it was obvious she could see the blood staining his arm, dripping down steadily.


    "Crap, you really need help," she said, her voice urgent as she quickly pulled out her phone. "You need to call an ambulance, or the police!"


    Seeing her about to dial, Max instinctively reached out a shaky hand and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.


    "No police..." Max muttered through gritted teeth, barely able to keep himself steady. "No... I need to... pay them back myself."


    The woman hesitated for a second, staring at him, weighing his words, and then, she gave a small nod.


    "Alright," she said firmly. "No police. But you''re coming with me. I can help you out."


    Cindy slid her phone back into her pocket and moved to his side, ready to support him before he collapsed completely.

 Chapter 57 - 57: Dont Forget The Bill

    Max still had no idea who the woman was, and through his blurry vision, he couldn''t really make out her face clearly either.


    But right now, that didn''t matter. He was hurt, and he needed help fast. So, letting her guide him, Max found himself being half-dragged to a small local clinic.


    Given the late hour, it wasn''t particularly busy, which was exactly what he needed. Plus, there was another bonus he hadn''t expected.


    "Uncle Larry!" Cindy shouted as she pushed open the front door.


    The place was crammed at the front with shop supplies, over-the-counter meds, cough drops, ointments, while the prescription counter sat near the back. Beyond that, there was a small private medical room, meant for quick examinations and minor treatments. If something serious came up, they''d just send you straight to the main hospital.


    "I''m up, I''m up!" a man in a white medical coat said, stumbling out from the back room, looking like he''d just been woken up. "Cindy, what are you doing here so late¡­ you need pads again or something?"


    Without missing a beat, Cindy grabbed a bottle of cream sitting on a nearby shelf and hurled it straight at the man''s head. He barely flinched in time.


    "Alright, alright! You definitely need those pads!" he said, laughing.


    "Shut up, you sexist pig!" Cindy snapped. Then she pointed to Max, who looked like he could collapse any second. "Right now, I need your help. Can''t you see I brought you a patient?"


    "And you dragged him here because... what, students are loaded these days and can pay for my services? Or because the 24-hour hospital was just too far away?" Larry asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Before Cindy could even answer, Max swayed dangerously, his legs giving out beneath him. Larry rushed forward, slipping under Max''s arm and propping him up with his shoulder.


    "Guess I don''t have much of a choice now," Larry muttered, hauling Max toward the private medical room.


    He carefully lowered Max onto the small examination bed, making sure he didn''t just dump the kid there like a sack of potatoes. His eyes immediately went to the dark blood soaking through Max''s shirt. Grabbing a pair of scissors, Larry started cutting through the fabric, layer by layer, until he finally exposed the source of the bleeding.


    "What the¡­?" Larry muttered under his breath.


    The wound was nasty, deep, and not the kind of injury you got from tripping and falling. It was something else entirely, something far worse.


    "What the hell are kids getting up to around here?" Larry thought grimly. "This isn''t playground stuff anymore."


    Shaking his head, he grabbed his supplies. "I need to disinfect this first, then put a few stitches in. It''s going to leave a scar... but at least it''s in a spot no one usually sees," he whispered to himself as he worked.


    Meanwhile, outside the room, Cindy was pacing back and forth, tapping her foot anxiously against the floor.


    She barely noticed when the front door creaked open again, and another figure stepped into the clinic.


    "Cindy!" Abby called out as she burst through the clinic door, her chest heaving. "Is it true? What you said over the phone, that Max is here and he''s hurt?"


    "Yeah," Cindy nodded, her face turning serious. "It was kinda crazy. I just ran into him out on the street. Looked like he was trying to make it home or something. You think it was the guys from school? Maybe they reacted after what happened in his class."


    "I don''t know¡­ I don''t know," Abby muttered, hugging herself tightly. "All I know is Max has always kept everything bottled up. No matter what he was going through, he never said anything. I feel so useless. How am I even supposed to help him if he won''t let me in?"


    Seeing the way Abby''s voice was starting to crack, Cindy moved closer and gently rubbed her best friend''s back. Abby looked like she was just seconds away from breaking down.


    "It''s okay," Cindy said softly. "If he''s keeping things to himself, he must have a good reason. After seeing what kind of state he was in today, I think... I think I''m starting to understand why."


    The two girls waited anxiously, standing in the quiet front area of the clinic, until finally the door to the small medical room swung open.


    Larry stepped out, wiping his hands on a cloth and wearing a tired but reassuring expression.


    "He''s going to be fine," Larry said, seeing the panic in their faces. "He didn''t lose as much blood as it probably looked like. He''s mostly just exhausted." S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Both girls let out the breath they''d been holding.


    "He completely passed out," Larry continued. "Even while I was cleaning and stitching the wound, he didn''t even flinch. Poor kid must''ve been running on pure adrenaline until he just... couldn''t anymore."


    "When I gave him anesthetic, he didn''t react at all," Larry said, running a hand through his messy hair. "It was almost like nothing in the world could wake the kid up. But he''s stable now. Still... do you have any idea what happened to him?"


    Cindy shook her head quickly.


    "I just found him like that," she said, a hint of guilt in her voice.


    Larry let out a heavy sigh.


    "Well, hate to break it to you, but from the looks of it, he''s been stabbed. Pretty clean wound too. Honestly, it might be best if we call the police."


    "No!" Cindy practically shouted, stepping forward. "He didn''t want the police involved. I have this feeling¡­ it might make his situation even worse if we did."


    Larry raised an eyebrow but didn''t argue further. In the end, the two girls decided to stay put at the pharmacy, despite Larry insisting they should go home and that he''d call them when Max woke up.


    But they refused to leave.


    Hours passed, the night dragging on slower than either of them liked, until finally, the door to the private medical room creaked open.


    Max stepped out, wearing a fresh shirt that had been left for him, his hair tousled and his expression groggy but alert enough.


    "Max!" Abby cried, rushing forward.


    Seeing Abby here was the last thing Max had expected, and his gaze shifted to the girl standing beside her, recognizing her vaguely through the haze as the one who must have found him earlier.


    "Thank you," Max said sincerely, his voice a little hoarse. "For helping me out."


    "You''re welcome!" Cindy beamed brightly.


    Meanwhile, Larry leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed.


    "Yeah, yeah. I''ll just pretend that thank you was meant for me, y''know, the guy who stitched you up, saved your sorry butt, and made sure you didn''t bleed out all over my clinic floor."


    Max gave a small, grateful smile. He understood. Even if he hadn''t said it outright, he owed them all, big time.


    "Max, what happened?" Abby asked as she rushed closer, worry all over her face.


    But Max didn''t say a word.


    He didn''t know what to say, what could he even say that would make a difference in this situation?


    Instead, Max pulled out his phone and asked, "I owe you for this, right?"


    "Oh, the bill! Right, the bill," Larry said, sounding a little too cheerful for the situation. "It might be a little troublesome, but hey, if you wanna arrange a payment plan, just let me know."


    He pulled out a receipt and pointed at the bottom where there was a printed QR code.


    "Uncle!" Cindy groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. "Are you seriously charging a student who was attacked? What about the doctor''s oath?"


    "The oath doesn''t pay the bills," Larry replied bluntly, waving the receipt. "Everything I used on him needs to be replaced. But fine, if you''re gonna guilt-trip me, I''ll give him a discount or whatever."


    Larry extended his hand, ready to snatch the receipt back, but Max had already scanned the QR code on his phone.


    "It''s done," Max said flatly. "I paid the full amount. You deserve no less, you really helped me out back there."


    Without another word, Max turned around and headed straight for the door, not even glancing back.


    "I''m sorry, Cindy. I need to talk to Max!" Abby said, quickly dashing out of the pharmacy and chasing after him.


    That left Cindy standing alone inside the shop with her uncle, who was just staring blankly, frozen in disbelief.


    "Hey, Cindy... who exactly is your friend?" Larry asked, scratching his head. "Is he some kind of CEO or something?"


    "What are you even talking about? Did you get stabbed and lose your mind instead of him?" Cindy said, raising an eyebrow.


    "It''s just... the first bill I made, it was a joke bill," Larry confessed, still looking completely baffled. "I just wanted to mess with him a little for dragging me outta bed in the middle of the night... but he actually paid it."


    Cindy snapped the receipt out of Larry''s hand and stared down at it.


    Her eyes widened as she read the ridiculous number scribbled across the paper.


    "How... how was he even able to afford this?" she muttered, stunned.

 Chapter 58 - 58: Max Is Dead

    Max kept his eyes glued to the directions on his phone. Honestly, he still had no idea where he was even going. The streets and neighborhoods all looked the same to him, completely unfamiliar, like a maze with no exit.


    The only good news was that enough time had passed since his fight and injury. If anyone had been looking for him, they''d probably given up by now. After all, there was still school tomorrow. And with how strict the government was about attendance, punishing parents with fines if their kids didn''t show up, it wasn''t easy to miss a day without a solid excuse.


    Sure, some kids managed a day or two off here and there, but for a huge group like that? Not exactly easy to explain away. Which meant the streets were relatively safe for him, for now.


    As Max walked, he moved his shoulder slightly, testing it, and immediately regretted it. He could feel the tight pull of the stitches holding his skin together.


    ''With this young body, it shouldn''t take more than a day and a half to heal up,'' Max thought grimly. ''But even if the wound closes up fast, everything else... the soreness, the stiffness...''


    He gritted his teeth, feeling the dull ache running through his muscles. It was clear as day.


    ''I can''t go back to school tomorrow. No way. I probably shouldn''t step back in there for a few days, not until I come up with a real plan.''


    Max figured he could skip a few days of school by faking a cold. Even if the other students knew the real reason behind it, it would still buy him the time he desperately needed. Right now, in the state he was in, there was no way he could take them on.


    And tomorrow? Yeah, tomorrow his body would hurt even worse than it did now.


    Besides, even if the school tried to hit him with a fine for skipping, it wasn''t like it mattered, he could easily afford it.


    ''With the principal in my back pocket now, he wouldn''t report it anyway,'' Max thought. ''Still, today taught me something important.''


    ''Dipter and his little crew... they''re way more ruthless than I first imagined. I can''t treat them like a bunch of dumb kids anymore. I have to treat them like what they really are, an actual criminal group.''


    And if they were a real gang... Max had to think like he was fighting real criminals too.


    ''If I were still in the underworld, stuck in this situation¡­ how would I get rid of a group like theirs?''


    Lost deep in his thoughts, Max almost missed the sound, quick footsteps coming up fast behind him.


    His heart slammed into his ribs.


    ''Crap, did they really not give up after all this time? I''m not even sure I can lift my leg to fight right now...''


    He spun around sharply, ready to throw hands, or worse, but stopped when he saw who it was.


    The figure skidded to a halt, throwing both hands up in surrender.


    They both froze, caught off guard by the vicious, cold look flashing across Max''s face. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Max! It''s me, it''s Abby," she said quickly, her voice trembling a little. "Sorry! I didn''t mean to startle you or anything. I just... I just wanted to walk with you. Maybe talk for a bit too."


    Max wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, to stay far, far away.


    But honestly? He didn''t even have the energy for that anymore. So instead, without a word, he just turned around and kept moving.


    Abby hesitated for only a second before hurrying to walk by his side, matching his pace.


    "Besides," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "with me here, I don''t think they''ll dare to do anything. If they come at us, I''ll scream so loud it''ll wake the whole neighborhood!"


    At her words, Max couldn''t help but let out a faint, half-hearted smile. It barely reached his lips.


    She had no idea.


    She had no idea that, although she wasn''t the direct cause, she was part of the reason Max had been forced to suffer in silence.


    That they wouldn''t do anything to her, that was exactly why Max had taken the beating. Why he''d endured everything without fighting back. So nothing ever happened to her.


    "Max, can you please tell me what''s going on?" Abby asked, her voice soft but trembling. "It''s those guys at school, right? The ones who were bullying you and Sam?" Her hands fidgeted nervously. "We can do something about it, together. We could go to the teachers, or even talk to the police officers who came to the school. They can protect us."


    Hearing that, Max could only offer the same worn-out response: a half-lift of the corner of his mouth. It wasn''t a smile, it was the ghost of one.


    Such a naive way of thinking.


    Only someone who had never really been through something like this would believe that those in charge could simply fix everything. Someone who had no idea about the twisted things happening behind the scenes, hidden away where no teacher, no officer, could, or would, reach.


    Abby kept talking, her words rushing out as if she could build a bridge to him with enough ideas. She offered everything she could think of: for Max to stay at her house, to get her parents involved, even transferring schools.


    But Max stayed silent. Each well-meaning suggestion only piled onto the frustration already boiling under his skin.


    And then, Abby just... broke. The tears spilled over, sliding down her cheeks and hitting the ground with soft, painful splashes.


    She stopped walking, and that forced Max to stop too. For the first time, he turned to really look at her.


    "I''m sorry... I''m so sorry, Max," Abby choked out between sobs. "I know everything I''m saying is probably useless. Maybe you''ve thought about all of it a hundred times already... but I''m trying. I''m trying to help you and it''s the only thing I can think of!"


    Her shoulders shook violently as she cried, and Max could feel it, the rawness, the honesty behind every word.


    "I want to do something... anything to help you," Abby cried out, her voice shaking with every word. "I wish... I wish the two of us could just run away. I don''t want any of this to happen to you... Max, why does it have to be you?"


    Her sobbing grew heavier, more broken. Watching her cry like that, Max felt something inside him snap. He couldn''t take it anymore.


    Without thinking, he walked ahead, reached out, and gently pulled her hand away from her tear-soaked face. Then he used the sleeve of his shirt to carefully wipe away her tears.


    "Enjoy your life," Max said, looking straight into her eyes. His voice was steady but softer than it had been all night. "Don''t get involved in this mess. Live your life. Study hard, get a job, get married if you want, or don''t.


    "Have kids, get pets, experience all of it. Right now, it feels like this situation is your whole world... but it''s just a tiny part.


    "Your world isn''t everyone''s world, Abby. And no matter what happens, the world will keep moving."


    His words spun around inside Abby''s head, swirling with the pain and confusion she was already feeling. She didn''t fully understand what he meant.


    All she wanted was to go back, to the days when they used to sit around playing games together, laughing until their sides hurt, dreaming about a future they could share.


    Talking about living together, about chasing stupid hobbies and enjoying every moment.


    When had everything changed so much?


    "It''s best if you think of it like this from now on..." Max said, his voice low. "Max died. The real Max died that day, along with Sam."


    Turning around without waiting for her reply, Max continued walking, leaving Abby standing there alone under the streetlight.


    He didn''t know if his words had gotten through to her, or if they only hurt her even more, but she wasn''t following him anymore.


    The night air felt heavier with every step, but eventually, Max made it back to his apartment.


    As he approached the entrance, he spotted a familiar figure standing outside, stiff as a statue.


    Arms tense at his sides, face unreadable, it was someone Max was expecting, and someone he had a lot of unresolved feelings toward.


    "Aron," Max said, his voice cold but steady.


    I have a lot of questions to ask him.

 Chapter 59 - 59: The Day Max Died

    It didn''t take long for Aron to notice Max as he approached, and not just notice him, but notice the bruises swelling across Max''s face.


    Part of his cheek was puffed up badly from the number of hits he''d taken, and even now, Max wasn''t walking properly, limping slightly from the blows to the back of his leg and other places.


    "Young Master, are you okay?!" Aron called out, rushing toward him.


    Max kept his head low, his body swaying slightly where he stood. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Do you always ask such obvious questions?" Max replied, his voice dry and flat. "You can see what state I''m in."


    Thankfully, he''d changed shirts at the small clinic, otherwise, Aron might''ve completely lost it at the sight of all the blood.


    "I got your message, but you didn''t send anything back. I searched everywhere for you," Aron said, speaking fast. "I had the whole security team combing the school, but they couldn''t find a single trace of you!"


    Aron looked genuinely frantic as he continued, "While they were looking, I decided to head back to the apartment, hoping maybe you would return. I called you, constantly, but there was no answer at all.


    "Young Master¡­ I have no idea what happened. Do we need to go to the hospital? Do you need treatment? Please, just tell me what I can do."


    Max let Aron spill out all his worries without interrupting, quietly listening, trying to pick apart his voice, searching for anything, anything at all, that would hint if this worry was real or just a well-rehearsed act.


    Was it genuine? Was this just part of the job? Or worse, another setup?


    But no matter how hard Max tried, he couldn''t tell. Aron sounded real. It felt real.


    Then again... so had the people in the White Tiger Gang once upon a time.


    There was always a chance Aron could be just like them.


    "How long have you been standing outside?" Max asked, his voice low.


    Aron pulled out his phone to check.


    "Three hours and forty-three minutes," he replied without hesitation.


    Max turned toward the apartment, saying just a few simple words.


    "Then come in and sit down. If you really mean what you''re saying... I''m going to need you to answer some questions. And I expect you to answer them honestly."


    Aron gave a small nod and followed closely behind. Together, they climbed the worn metal staircase leading up to Max''s apartment on the second floor.


    That''s when Aron noticed it, the faint smear of blood on the back of Max''s once-white shirt.


    It must''ve happened when Max was testing just how bad his shoulder injury really was.


    As they continued to climb the stairs, Max caught the faint sound of Aron grinding his teeth.


    Once inside the apartment, Max made a slow, heavy move toward the bed. Aron rushed to help, but Max stiffened and shoved him away with a weak hand, making it clear, don''t touch me.


    Eventually, Max slumped down onto the bed, his body protesting every movement.


    "I guess if you really were working with them," Max said, his voice dry and low, "me being in this condition would be the perfect chance to take me out, right?"


    He leaned back against the wall and nodded toward the table.


    "Don''t just stand there. You can sit, but not here. Use the chair by the dining table. I''ve got a lot to ask you, so you should probably get comfortable."


    Without arguing, Aron did as he was told. He pulled the chair out, sat down, and straightened his back like he was reporting for duty.


    "Master, I honestly have no idea what you''re talking about right now," Aron said, his hand pressed tight against his chest like he was trying to physically hold his emotions together. "What happened today? For you to end up like this... Please, share it with me. If I know what went wrong, then we can make sure it never happens again. I swear it, I don''t want you to be in pain anymore."


    Looking at him, Max couldn''t help but notice, Aron had this look, almost like a kicked puppy, eyes wide and pleading.


    Max let out a big, heavy sigh.


    "It''s not a big issue," Max replied, his voice low and tired. "Just... school stuff. But based on everything you said, I thought you''d come running the moment I messaged you."


    He shifted slightly, grimacing from the pain in his shoulder.


    "Didn''t you have the phones bugged or something? Or keep track of Max''s location at all times?" he asked.


    Aron immediately shook his head. "No, Master," he said firmly. "All of those things, you specifically forbade them. We listened to your request. You were the one who made it clear: no tracking, no bugging. You said if we didn''t comply, you''d ask your grandfather to get rid of us completely... so I complied. I followed everything you asked, to the letter."


    Max stayed quiet for a moment, letting the truth settle. Once again, it wasn''t Aron''s loyalty that was hurting him, it was the actions of the old Max.


    But understanding the situation now, Max couldn''t exactly blame him. Especially if the feelings between Abby and the old Max had been real...he knew how the old Max acted, and judging by her reaction earlier, they definitely were.


    "But you knew, right?" Max pressed, narrowing his eyes. "You knew that Max... that I was going through this every day. Getting bullied at school. Going to a public school instead of a private one. You even knew that I wasn''t spending any of the money, right?"


    Aron hesitated for only a second before giving a solemn nod


    "Then why didn''t you ask Max, damn it. Why didn''t you ask me?!" Max shouted, frustration boiling over. "I''m talking about me! Why didn''t you ask why I did all of this? If protection and helping the Stern family is your top goal, then you should''ve still acted, right?"


    Now, Max could see it clearly, Aron was biting down on his bottom lip so hard that it tore, a thin trail of blood dripping down his chin. His fists were clenched tightly by his sides, gripping at his trousers like he was trying to stop himself from shaking.


    Max let out a long breath, pushing himself up from where he was lying and staring Aron dead in the eye.


    "I think... we need to reset our relationship," Max said. His voice was calmer now, but every word carried weight. "From now on, I want you to forget everything the old me told you."


    He leaned forward slightly, not looking away for a second.


    "We''re starting fresh, right here, right now. If you''re really on my side, if you''re really here to help me, then you need to prove it."


    Max paused, letting his words hang in the air before he asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since the beginning.


    "First, tell me what happened to me. Why was I in that hospital bed? Did I give you any reason, any hint, about what happened that day?"

 Chapter 60 - 60: A Secret Revealed!

    A few small details had been learned from Aron when Max had first woken up, but they were far too minor to piece anything together.


    At the time, Max had been way more focused on his own revenge and figuring out his new situation, rather than digging into what the old Max''s life had been like.


    But now it was interfering with his everyday life in this new body, and he needed to know more. Aron seemed like he had played a big part in Max''s past, so how could he not know what Max had been going through?


    And then there was something else Max had figured out. The video that had been left on the laptop... in the end, there was really only one person it could have been meant for, and that was Aron.


    Even if Max now didn''t fully trust him, it was clear the old Max had trusted Aron. Their relationship had been... complicated. Strange, even.


    But before Max could deal with any of that, he needed an answer to something far more important. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I told you the truth last time," Aron said, his voice steady but low. "We don''t know any of the details. But I have had things looked into."


    He paused, locking eyes with Max.


    "Of course, I knew you were being bullied, Max."


    It was the first time Max thought he''d ever heard Aron call him by his actual name, and strangely enough, even this Max felt like they were bridging a gap, taking a step closer to something real.


    "I knew the struggles you were going through..." Aron continued, his voice weighted with emotion. "Things are difficult because of the position I''m in. I have to constantly walk the line between my personal loyalty to you... and my duty to the Stern family."


    He tightened his fists slightly, his knuckles turning slightly white.


    "I haven''t been able to find the people responsible, or figure out if there''s any link to what''s happening at school now. But... I''ll tell you all the details I know, no matter how small they might seem."


    Max leaned in slightly, holding his breath for what he was about to hear.


    "You were found in Notting Hill City," Aron said. "Your body was discovered at the side of Cure Lake."


    Immediately, Max''s heart pounded in his chest so hard it almost hurt to breathe.


    Notting Hill City... he thought, his mind racing. That''s the city where I lived. Where the White Tiger Gang is based. Most likely... it''s the same place they dragged my damned body to as well.


    Max clenched his fists under the covers.


    And the city we''re in now... this is Mancur City. Could it really just be a coincidence?


    Is that what happened? Max thought, his mind spinning. Was Max''s body, my body dumped into that same lake at the same time? Did something happen that caused everything to switch?


    He gritted his teeth, a pit growing in his stomach.


    What if the other Max ended up in my old body... but that body, the one already on death''s doorstep, there''s no way it could''ve survived.


    "You were found by a passerby," Aron explained carefully. "Just hanging there at the edge of the lake. And... for now, that''s all we know."


    Although Aron probably thought the information was insignificant, it actually helped Max more than he could put into words. It solved at least a tiny piece of the mystery that had haunted him since waking up.


    "I know..." Aron''s voice grew quieter. "You probably wanted more than that. Some kind of trail you could follow to punish the people responsible. But I can''t give you anything else. I''m useless in all of this."


    Max could see it, Aron''s guilt was raw, almost painful to witness.


    He understood. Given the situation at school, how could Aron have gotten involved without exposing himself or Max?


    Just like what happened today, if Aron had gotten involved at the wrong time, things could''ve ended even worse. He could easily imagine a different scenario, one where a group had dragged him into a van and driven him all the way back to Notting Hill... and no one would''ve known until it was too late.


    The old Max had really left no options for Aron to help at all.


    "I wish... I wish you could have let me help you more," Aron said, his voice barely a whisper.


    It was the second time now. Twice Max had seen how the old him left the people around him hurt, left them aching with guilt and helplessness.


    "Did I tell you anything?" Max asked, his voice steady but low. "Anything about what was happening at school? Did I even give you a hint as to why I would''ve ended up at the lake in the first place?"


    "I have my guesses about what''s going on," Aron replied. "But... you didn''t tell me anything directly. It''s clear you didn''t want me getting involved because..."


    Aron trailed off. Max stayed silent, letting the air between them grow heavy. He could tell there was more, so much more, that Aron wanted to say. And eventually, it came out.


    "Max," Aron said, voice tightening, "about what you mentioned before... I didn''t tell you this earlier because... I thought maybe our relationship would be better without it. I thought maybe without all the baggage between us, things would be easier. But things haven''t gotten better. If anything, they''ve just stayed the same... So..."


    He stopped again, but this time, Max could see it in his eyes, Aron was ready to finally say what he had been holding back.


    "Just say it!" Max shouted, frustration bubbling over. "Stop dancing around the subject! What are you even talking about with this ''relationship'' stuff? None of it makes any sense to me!


    "Why would I shut out my own bodyguard? Why would you claim we were close, and why the hell would I leave a damn video for you if I didn''t think we were close?"


    "A video?" Aron asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.


    Max immediately realized he might''ve said a little too much. That video¡­ sharing it could do more harm than good. Maybe Aron would really go full stalker mode if he knew. And Max couldn''t afford that. Not when he had other plans, plans that needed a lot more freedom than what Aron might allow.


    "Forget about the video," Max said quickly, waving his hand through the air. "I want you to tell me what you were about to say before. Right now, I need to trust you. Give me a reason to trust you, so that you can help me!


    "You say you want to protect me, but you''ve failed so many times. So this is your chance. Tell me why I should trust you."


    Finally, Aron loosened his death grip on his trousers. His face softened, and a faint, almost bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he looked at Max.


    "I guess you really did forget everything, huh?" Aron said quietly. "Of course I''ll always help you, Max. I''ll always be by your side, not for the Stern family, not for anyone else, because you''re my brother."

 Chapter 61 - 61: Dead Serious

    The realization slammed into Max like a punch to the gut.


    He felt like a complete fool, how had he not seen it earlier? Now, piece by piece, everything was starting to fit together.


    Someone the old Max had trusted enough to leave a video for... yet hadn''t shared any details with?


    It could have only been another family member.


    And considering that Max had already lost his parents, there wasn''t much family he had left in the world, of course he would have cherished someone like Aron.


    Cherished him so much that he hadn''t wanted Aron tangled up in all of this mess.


    At the end of the day, there wasn''t just one target that the Stern family could strike at, there were two.


    "My brother?" Max finally said, voice low with disbelief. "But¡­ wait, a Stern wouldn''t just work as a security guard. Does that mean¡­?"


    "I was adopted," Aron explained, his tone calm but heavy.


    "Which means I am not truly a member of the Stern family.


    "I was adopted by your parents, Max. By your family, not by the Stern family itself."


    An adopted family member. It had to have been for a long time, Max figured, long enough for them to feel this close, for Aron to speak about it with such weight.


    "I want to make that distinction clear, Max," Aron said, his voice steady. "I know this might be a shock to you, but everything I''m about to tell you is the truth. And I hope that by telling you all of this, you''ll see you can trust me, because I want nothing more than to help you."


    Max stayed quiet, letting him continue.


    "Your parents weren''t like the other members of the Stern family," Aron said. "They didn''t use their wealth to try and grow it even more. But at the same time, it was almost impossible to completely separate themselves from it. Instead, they chose to focus on more charitable goals.


    "One of those was helping war-torn countries. And they weren''t the type to just set up a foundation and slap their names on it, they traveled to those countries themselves. They wanted to see the suffering firsthand, to know exactly how they could make a difference."


    Aron took a breath, his hand resting over his heart.


    "And me... I was a war orphan," he said. "From the age of six, I was trained to fight. By eight, I was considered useful. We had no parents, no family... just survival. That was the only thing we were taught."


    "When the war stopped, though," Aron continued, his voice growing heavier, "we were no longer useful.


    We were just another mouth to feed. And so, they threw us away."


    He clenched his fists slightly, a tremble running through his fingers.


    "There are people in the world who say they have problems, who say they live every day hungry¡­ But real hunger, real pain, it''s something I wouldn''t wish on anyone."


    Aron''s eyes darkened with the memory.


    "It was a hell I never want to return to. And it was your parents who pulled me out of that nightmare.


    When they came, they fed us. They saw us as human beings. And I did my best to return the favor.


    I helped them whenever I could, however I could."


    Max sat quietly, absorbing every word, his heart feeling heavier with each one.


    "Unfortunately," Aron said, his voice lowering, "good things don''t always happen to good people. The village I lived in... it wasn''t full of saints. There were some bad people there too. When they found out who your parents really were, they hatched a plan. They wanted to kidnap them, hold them ransom for money."


    Aron''s jaw tightened, his shame palpable.


    "I couldn''t turn my back on the ones who freed me from my suffering.So I told your parents what was happening. I warned them to get out before it was too late. And that was when they decided to take me with them."


    It was certainly a hard story for Max to fully grasp. He believed he had grown up with a bad life, but he was reminded in that moment.


    There were people all over the world that had grown up in these situations, that were even far worse than his own.


    "When they brought me back, that is when I met you Max, you were only four years younger than me, but you were excited and accepted me as your brother.


    "Your whole family accepted me, they cared for me and they treated me well. It is a debt that I could never pay back even over several lifetimes, and then that dreaded day had come.


    "It was now a little over a year ago, when your parents had died in a car crash. Both of them taken out. With no one to look after you, I had gone to Dennis Stern himself, and asked him, I requested, to allow him to make me your head guard.


    "I promised from that day onwards I would not let the last family member in my family perish as long as they were under my watch, and Dennis had granted my wish."


    If Max was being honest with himself, he kind of felt bad for not believing in Aron after hearing him pour his heart out like this.


    Wait, why am I feeling bad? Max thought to himself. How was I supposed to know all of this? He was the one that kept it hidden, that he was my brother, and no one said anything to me... but still, this certainly does make him more trustable now.


    "The reason why things are so hard for me is because of the position I''m in," Aron explained. "My loyalty is with you, Max, to my family.


    "I will do anything you ask me. And when you made those requests, you didn''t ask me as the head of the Stern Security team for you. You asked me as your brother. At the same time though, being a part of the Stern family means there''s only so much I can do.


    "This position gives me the ability to look out for you better than if I wasn''t connected at all. It gives me more power... but in a lot of ways, it also takes power away. I can''t step out of line when it comes to matters involving members of the Stern family, and that leaves me stuck in a very difficult position."


    After learning all of that, Max decided there was only one thing he could do. He got off the bed and reached out his hand toward Aron.


    "I understand the tough position you''re in. Not just you, but me as well," Max said. "And to get out of it, we''re going to need to work together."


    Max''s voice was steady, his eyes sharp with resolve.


    "So I''m going to ask you now, no matter what I ask you to do, no matter what kind of help I need, I need you to promise you''ll do it. No questions asked. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And I''m not asking this as a member of the Stern Security team," Max added. "I''m asking this as your brother.


    "Will you help me?"


    There was no hesitation. Aron stood up instantly, a light shining in his eyes as he firmly took Max''s hand in his.


    "What do you need me to do?" Aron asked, his face turning dead serious in an instant. "Who do you need me to kill?"


    "What?!" Max replied, completely taken aback.

 Chapter 62 - 62: Making The Rangers

    When Max woke up the next day, he immediately realized he''d been right, his body felt like it had been pulled apart, every inch of it aching. His muscles were sore, bruises flared with heat, and even the smallest movement sent waves of pain through him.


    Thankfully, even though it was a school day, he had the day off. That was the first task he''d given to Aron after their new understanding, he had instructed him to inform the school that Max wouldn''t be attending. Judging by how wrecked his body felt now, it was clear he wouldn''t be going back for at least a few days.


    Groaning, Max finally forced himself to sit up, placing a hand against his head as if to stop the spinning.


    ''What was that whole thing yesterday¡­ things got out of control,'' he thought. ''Being ambushed, chased by an entire mob of students, ending up at that tiny medical clinic, running into Abby, and finally that talk with Aron. What was with him yesterday?''


    He could still hear Aron''s voice in his head, replaying over and over, intense and unwavering.


    "Who do you need me to kill?" Max muttered aloud, mimicking Aron''s expression, his tone deadpan and flat.


    ''I could tell, he meant it. Every single word. Based on his background, it''s probably something he''s already done before¡­ and at a young age too. But he doesn''t need to go that far. Not against these guys. Still¡­ it''s good to have someone like that on my side.''


    A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Max''s lips.


    ''When it comes time to face the White Tigers¡­ he might be someone I''ll really need.''


    Max knew that a man like Aron was worth more than gold, far more than anything his wealth could buy. In the right hands, a person like that was priceless.


    And now, with their relationship reshaped into something new, they''d started putting a few things in motion.


    Aron had warned him that the other Stern family members might still be watching closely, waiting for a slip-up. That was all the reason Max needed to act cautiously, and he''d asked Aron to handle a few important things before leaving.


    One of the top priorities? Setting up a security team near where Abby lived.


    Technically, she wasn''t his responsibility. Not really. Not this Max, anyway. But knowing that his presence, his actions could endanger someone else was something Max wasn''t about to ignore. Especially when he could do something about it.


    For now, they were using the small number of men Aron had under his command. There were only three at most, barely a squad but they were discreet, well-trained, and enough for temporary protection.


    ''Before I make a move, I''ll hire a proper private security team to keep her safe,'' Max thought, already mentally running through the costs and logistics. ''That should be more than enough. Dipter is the one most likely to be sent after her, but by the time that happens¡­ he''ll no longer be a problem. Still, the team needs to be there in case the Sterns try something else, or send someone worse.''


    The plan was shaping up, bit by bit.


    Sitting upright in bed, Max pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He began jotting things down, organizing his thoughts, turning ideas into strategies. Every bullet point, every detail mattered. Because this wasn''t just about revenge or surviving high school.


    ''The biggest issue is using the money,'' Max started to think. ''I''ve already used some here and there, but that''s not what triggered their response.


    ''It''s likely the family still doesn''t know I''ve touched the money, unless it''s something they can see. So if someone spots a full-blown security team around Abby, then they''ll know.


    ''And if a high school kid suddenly hires top-tier private security for himself too, then my opponent, whoever they are, will catch on and do the same.


    ''So¡­ is there a way to use the money without them knowing? In bits and pieces like I''ve been doing?''


    An idea sparked in Max''s mind.


    To the other Stern family members, he was just a kid. A teenager. A student who''d never set foot in the real world. That''s why they were even using other school bullies to handle their dirty work.


    If something serious happened to Max, something blatant, they''d risk Dennis, the family head, stepping in. That risk was the only reason they were still holding back.


    ''They won''t expect Max to act smart... they won''t expect him to play like this. It might actually work, but it''s dangerous. I''m going to need help. Help of my own.''


    Stretching out his limbs, Max winced at the soreness still aching through his muscles. He had to keep moving. Staying still only made it worse.


    ''I''ll stay out of school until the weekend hits,'' Max thought, his eyes narrowing with determination. ''And then I''ll get rid of Dipter, I''ll make sure of it. After him, comes the real enemy. Then I can finally start using this money like it''s actually mine.''


    While walking, Max pulled out his phone and began firing off a few messages. His footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as he made his way to a familiar point on the street. Midday sun warmed his back as he stood there, waiting.


    Eventually, a man in a red tracksuit appeared, jogging toward him with a slightly rushed expression.


    "Sorry I''m a bit late," Steven said, slightly out of breath. "Wasn''t expecting you around this time. But, uh¡­ shouldn''t you be in school?"


    "Does that matter?" Max replied, his tone cool and dismissive. "I''ve got something important to do today anyway."


    Steven opened the metal gate that led into the gym, hesitating slightly before entering. He was about to close it behind Max until Max signaled him to leave it open. Steven gave him a look but didn''t argue.


    It was the first time Steven really took in Max''s condition, he looked like he''d been run over by a truck. Still, Max walked in like he owned the place.


    Not long after, the gym door opened again. Aron stepped inside, tall and silent as ever.


    Steven tensed at the sight of him. "This guy again?" he muttered under his breath, rubbing the spot where he remembered getting hit the last time Aron had visited.


    "You''re not going to make the two of us fight again, are you?" Steven asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because if you are, I''m going to have to ask that he doesn''t use any weapons this time."


    Aron just smiled, saying nothing as he strolled past Steven and stopped in front of Max.


    Then, the door creaked open once more, and someone else walked in.


    "Is this the right place?" a young voice called out.


    "Oh! A new customer!" Steven exclaimed, dashing across the room. "Finally! Finally! Do you want to learn boxing? Do you want me to make you a world champion? I can see it, right there in your eyes, you''ve got the skills to become a world champ!"


    "It was me," Max said, cutting him off. "I invited him here. Green, come over."


    "My name''s Joe," the boy muttered with a grunt as he made his way over. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Steven, you too. Come here. All of you, line up," Max ordered.


    There was a pause. It felt like they were being bossed around, but due to their connection with Max, they begrudgingly followed his lead and stood side by side.


    "The three of you," Max said, a grin spreading across his face, "are going to be my Rangers. And together, we''re going to take down Dipter."


    A heavy silence filled the room, until Steven finally broke it.


    "Who?"

 Chapter 63 - 63: A Fight On The Inside?

    Even though Max had chosen not to return to school, classes continued on without him.


    The students he had injured were starting to come back, though many lingered at the entrance, hesitant to walk in. They were afraid they might run into Max, unsure how to act, what to say, or what he might do.


    However, as the first bell rang and school officially began, they realized something.


    He wasn''t there.


    For most of them, it was a huge sigh of relief. Still, the absence sparked questions, what exactly had happened?


    During class, the delinquents began texting each other under their desks, quickly catching up on the latest news. Word spread fast about the incident that had taken place not far from the school itself.


    "No wonder Max hasn''t shown up."


    "Yeah, looks like Dipter finally made a move, showed him who really runs this place."


    "I guess that''s the end of it. If he''s too scared to come back, maybe the rest of you will stop fighting back too."


    Their fear began to fade, replaced by a rising confidence. As long as Dipter had their backs, they felt untouchable within these school walls. And with Max gone, they believed nothing could stand in their way.


    Still, not everyone felt the same.


    The students who had actually fought Max that day, who had seen him up close couldn''t share in the newfound confidence. Even though they had come at him together, they remembered how well Max had fought, how strong and resilient he had been.


    For them, it was hard to believe Max would just let things go.


    If he ever came back to school, would he really stay quiet? Obedient? That didn''t sound like him at all. The smarter move might''ve been to bring him into their circle, to get him on their side before it was too late.


    But those thoughts stayed buried. Because even if they feared Max, there was someone they feared more.


    When break time rolled around, Dipter was hanging out in his usual spot by the cage. Inside the fenced court, a large group of students were messing around, shoving each other, laughing, and playing rough.


    Many of them were talking about Max, and naturally, the conversation drifted in that direction.


    "So he didn''t show up after all, huh? Not surprising," Snide chuckled. "Maybe he got beat so bad, he ended up in the hospital."


    "Maybe he''s there right now."


    "And that''s something to laugh about?" Jay said, his tone sharp. "What if you''d actually killed him?"


    "Relax, big guy. You''re lucky I did all the work," Snide shot back. "I''ve been practicing my aim. I knew it wasn''t anything serious. Besides, it''s not like we can go to his house and drag him out, right?"


    "No," Dipter replied immediately, his voice calm but firm. "We''re not going to worry about him not showing up. For now, we leave him be. We''ve got bigger things to deal with."


    "What about the girl?" Jay asked.


    "Just keep an eye on her," Dipter said. "Right now, we''re playing nice. We need to keep up appearances. What I want you to focus on is expanding our network."


    He glanced at the two of them, making sure they were listening.


    "If there''s any trouble, it needs to be dealt with immediately. And if anyone wants to talk or make a move, they come to me. Max¡­ he''s not our problem anymore. But if he tries anything, then I''ll deal with him myself."


    "In that case, I''ll make sure to keep tabs on the girl. Just in case something comes up," Jay said, nodding.


    "Man, stalker much?" Snide snorted. "Hey, why don''t you ask for her number while you''re at it?"


    Jay shot a glance at Snide, but instead of snapping back or starting something, he just turned and walked away.


    Meanwhile, Abby, who was at school that day, found herself oddly relieved that Max hadn''t shown up. If they had run into each other, she honestly didn''t know what she would''ve said.


    At lunch, she chose to sit with Cindy. The two weren''t really talking, at least not to each other. Cindy was doing most of the talking, while Abby just picked at her food, barely taking a bite.


    "Come on," Cindy said, trying to sound upbeat. "I think it''s better that Max didn''t come today. He needs the rest. And besides, it''s not like they can ambush him while he''s home recovering, right?"


    Abby held her chopsticks in place, her food halfway to her mouth but never quite making it.


    "Can I ask you something?" Cindy said after a moment. "It''s about Max. Did he ever tell you where he''s from? Like, what school he went to before this one?" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Something about the question made Abby sit up straighter, her attention sharpening just a little.


    "No, not really," she said. "I mean, he mentioned his old school was kind of similar to this one. Said he had a few friends here and there."


    "Did he tell you why he transferred? Or anything about his family?" Cindy asked again, careful not to sound too nosy, but she was clearly probing.


    "His family¡­" Abby began slowly. "He did mention something once. The reason he transferred, it''s because both of his parents died. And to afford a place to stay, he moved closer to here."


    "That makes no sense," Cindy muttered under her breath, chewing on her thumbnail. "Who is he?"


    She wanted to dig deeper, to keep asking questions, but the truth was, Abby didn''t know any more than that. Something about Max didn''t add up, and Cindy could feel it. Something was clearly going on.


    ****


    Even though it was the middle of the day, there was one particular individual sitting inside the Cube, and he wasn''t alone.


    Despite the hour, he held a glass of whiskey in one hand, sipping it slowly, the amber liquid swirling around the rim of the glass with each thoughtful motion.


    "Sir, we have some news to report," said a man in a dark suit as he approached his side. "We''ve continued monitoring Dipter, like you asked. We''ve gathered some new intel."


    The suited man paused for a second as he mulled in his thoughts, before continuing.


    "It seems Dipter has been speaking directly with our clients. They''ve reported that he''s trying to cut you out of the deal, offering to supply them directly, while undercutting your prices."


    The moment those words left his mouth, the man holding the glass went still.


    His fingers tensed around it, just short of shattering it in his grip.


    "I knew this would happen. It always does," the man muttered, his voice low and cold. "People like them, they start thinking they''re too big for the game. They forget the hand that feeds them and start imagining they can do it all on their own."


    He took another slow sip from his glass, eyes narrowing.


    "They were useful¡­ for a while. But now, they''re becoming a problem."


    He set the glass down with a quiet clink, his tone hardening.


    "Send the security team. Get rid of them."


    "Yes, sir," the suited man replied with a slight bow before disappearing into the shadows.

 Chapter 64 - 64: You Are Not Our Boss

    After school ended, Dipter had invited a select group of people to join him, Snide, Jay, and a few of the stronger members in their circle.


    As a thanks for handling the recent situation, and in light of the generous bonus they''d received, Dipter had decided to treat them to a nice meal.


    This was more than just a celebration. It was strategy. He was building a team, not just for influence inside the school, but for something bigger. He had plans that stretched well beyond the campus gates.


    And hey, who didn''t like a free meal?


    The group walked together down the street, leaving the school grounds behind. Laughter echoed between them, but as they reached the edge of the high street, the sound of roaring engines caught their attention.


    Cars came speeding around the corner, tires screeching.


    In a flash, Dipter yanked Snide by the shirt, pulling him back just in time as one of the cars skidded to a halt, mere inches away.


    "What the heck is wrong with these guys?! Are they drunk or something?!" Snide yelled, heart racing.


    "You idiot," Jay muttered, stepping forward, his fists clenched tight. "Look around. They''ve blocked us from the front and back¡­ This wasn''t an accident. It''s a setup."


    Doors swung open.


    Men stepped out, some in dark suits, others in sunglasses, and a few with balaclavas covering their faces.


    It was clear that every one of the newcomers was an adult, and not just any adults. They were well-built, trained, and moved with purpose.


    "I guess¡­ this is going to be a tiring day," Dipter muttered, cracking his neck.


    ****


    Inside the Cube nightclub, the man in the pinstriped suit remained seated, calmly smoking and drinking. He had lost track of how many glasses he''d downed by now, but he could definitely feel it starting to hit him.


    As he lazily swirled the next drink in his hand, he heard the door creak open to his right. Turning his head, he saw his head of security standing in the doorway.


    "Did you manage to take care of those kids?" the man asked casually. "I heard they were a bit tougher than expected. Hopefully, you didn''t rough them up too badly."


    "Thankfully, it wasn''t too bad," a voice replied.


    But it wasn''t the guard who said it.


    In the next instant, the security guard was kicked from behind, his body crumpling to the floor with a heavy thud. His face was covered in bruises and red markings, clearly beaten.


    The man in the suit jumped to his feet, startled, eyes wide as he looked up to see who had entered.


    "Dipter? What''s going on?"


    "We received your little welcoming party," Dipter said, walking in with a calm smile. "And we dealt with it. I figured I should personally thank the man who sent me such a thoughtful gift."


    One by one, the others followed him into the room, stepping in behind their leader.


    The man in the pinstriped suit froze in panic. His mind raced. These were just high school kids. Sure, they were older teens, maybe even close to adults, but still just kids.


    And he had sent his real security team after them.


    Trained professionals. Men hired specifically to protect him. Men who were supposed to handle situations exactly like this.


    How had these kids managed to beat them?


    "Dipter, listen to me, you have to understand why I did it," the man said with a shaky smile. "You stepped out of line. I heard what you were trying to do, going around me, dealing with clients directly. I had to remind you who''s in charge. If you hadn''t crossed that line, I never would''ve sent them."


    Dipter let out a short laugh, shaking his head slowly. Then, without another word, he stepped forward.


    Standing in front of the man, Dipter reached out, grabbed him by the head, and slapped him hard across the face.


    Dipter pushed the man down, forcing him to his knees.


    He stood over him, looking directly into his eyes¡ªcold, calm, and unflinching.


    "You really think you''re still in a position to boss us around? After what you just pulled?" Dipter asked, his voice steady but filled with venom. "You think we''re still afraid of you?"


    He leaned in slightly.


    "You should know by now, right? You already know what we''re planning. And that''s exactly why we don''t need you anymore. We can do it ourselves."


    The man was silent for a moment. Then, his shoulders began to shake, and he started to laugh.


    "Have you lost your mind?!" he barked. "Do you even realize who I am? What you''ve just done? You slapped me across the face!"


    His laughter grew louder, more erratic.


    "Did you forget, Dipter? Even if you took out my security team today, I can still ruin you. I can ruin every single person you care about for this. You''ll regret ever laying a hand on me!"


    He kept laughing.


    Until Dipter swung again.


    Slap.


    The man''s head snapped to the side.


    Then again, from the opposite direction.


    Slap.


    And again.


    Dipter didn''t stop. He kept slapping him, harder each time.


    The man tried to raise his arms in defense, but Dipter batted them away like they were nothing. and struck him again.


    "You can''t even fight back," Dipter said, looking down at the man with disgust. "You don''t even know how to fight back. Have you ever been hit in your life before?" Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He scoffed and straightened up.


    "Look, I don''t know why you''ve got your eye on Max, but whatever deal we had? It''s over."


    Dipter''s tone shifted, colder now.


    "I know you can''t do anything. I know the truth. Right now, you''re powerless... aren''t you?"


    The man''s laughter died instantly. The false confidence drained from his face, along with the tension in his shoulders. All of it¡­ gone.


    "H-how did you¡­" he stammered.


    "You think I wouldn''t find out?" Dipter said. "You don''t think I''d get curious about where all your money came from? So I started digging. And then I dug deeper. And what I found..."


    He let go of the man''s head, letting it drop.


    "Well, that''s the only reason I decided to make a move in the first place."


    Dipter took a step back, turning around.


    "I know the truth," he said, not even bothering to look back. "Right now, there''s nothing you can do. I just haven''t figured out yet how Max fits into all of this¡­"


    He glanced over his shoulder, his voice final.


    "But that''s fine. You''re no longer our boss."

 Chapter 65 - 65: The Rangers Form!

    Inside a gym that usually only had two people at most, there were now four.


    Steven, the owner of the place, stood behind the counter. Max, his one and only customer, was present as always. Then there was the man who had shown up once before, someone Steven would never forget. And lastly, of all things, there was another student.


    But this one wasn''t a customer. That much had already been made very clear by Max.


    Seeing them all together in his little gym, Steven found himself asking one big question:


    What did I do in my life to end up here?


    He didn''t understand the situation at all, why Max had gathered them, what they were planning, and once Max finally began explaining everything, Steven seriously started to think he was trapped in some kind of fever dream. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wait... wait... wait!" Steven said, holding out one hand while rubbing his forehead with the other. "Let me try to wrap my head around this. From the beginning."


    He pointed toward the student.


    "So first, this guy here, Green."


    "Joe," Joe corrected instantly.


    "Right, Joe. He goes to the same school as you," Steven continued, eyeing Max, "and he was part of the group that used to bully you, right?"


    Both Joe and Max nodded at the same time.


    That alone was strange, Steven didn''t even know how the two of them had gotten close in the first place.


    "So somehow," Steven continued slowly, "he''s now helping you with whatever situation you''re caught up in. Because there''s some kind of head bully at your school who''s targeting you... and that would be this Dipter person?"


    "Correct," Max replied. "Glad to know your ears are working."


    "And now you''ve gathered everyone here, the ex-bully, your bodyguard or whatever he is, and me, to help you take out the head bully?" Steven asked, eyebrows raised.


    "Correct again," Max said. "Though I''m not sure why you''re repeating everything I already explained if you understood it from the start."


    Steven rubbed his temples. He felt like he needed to lie down. When he left high school, became a pro boxer, and eventually opened a quiet little gym, this was not where he thought life would take him.


    And what was going on with schools these days anyway?


    A head bully? Secret plots? Full-on factions?


    Had things really gotten that bad... or had he just been so far removed from it all that he never realized what was happening right under his nose?


    "You can''t be serious, though... can you?" Steven asked, staring at Max like he had completely lost it. "You really want me to help you beat up a bunch of high school kids? Do you think I have no pride?"


    He remembered the last time Max had hinted at something like this, back when he was first asked a strange question that stuck with him. Steven had wondered if Max might eventually ask him to fight his bully... but thinking about it and actually being in the situation were two very different things.


    "You can''t think of them as just high school kids," Max said firmly. "If you do, this situation is going to get very dangerous, for all of you."


    Steven raised an eyebrow, but Max didn''t pause.


    "Dipter isn''t a normal student. And the delinquents following him? They''re not either. He can rally fifty of them, just like that. All of them loyal. All of them ready to do whatever he says. And they''re willing to use weapons, bats, knives, anything."


    Even Steven had to swallow hard after hearing that.


    If anything, what surprised him most wasn''t Dipter''s army... it was the fact that Max still planned to go up against them, even after laying out how dangerous they really were.


    "I see¡­" Steven muttered. "So you really do need our help if that''s the case. I mean, I get it, you want to get back at them. And I guess you can''t do it alone... but I really need to think about this. I can''t just go around doing stuff like this!"


    His eyes shifted toward the only other adult in the room, the one standing calmly in his glasses, arms crossed, looking like this was just another day for him.


    Of course he''s fine, Steven thought. Someone like him, someone who probably uses weapons himself. If there''s a fight in the ring, I bet he doesn''t even blink. Of course he''d be willing to take down high schoolers... he probably enjoys it.


    Max had realized something important when he''d faced Snide and his crew.


    Dipter wasn''t just one person. He was an entire group.


    Even if Max went one-on-one, knocking them down one by one, they''d still keep coming. Dipter wasn''t a leader that, once defeated, caused everyone to fall in line. This wasn''t some clich¨¦ movie.


    No one was suddenly going to respect Max just because he beat the boss.


    People didn''t like change. And at any given moment, they could, and probably would, turn on him, gang up, and give him another brutal beatdown.


    So, the only way to stop that from happening, the only way to make sure no one tried anything after their beatdown, was for Max to form a group of his own. A team that would show everyone that messing with him meant dealing with all of them.


    Because once people knew they''d just get hit again and again, they''d stop trying.


    The problem was, in the short time Max had lived in this new body, these were the only people he truly knew. The only ones who might actually help him.


    "I''m sorry, but I can''t do this."


    Steven blinked. "Wait... Did I just say that out loud? Did my thoughts slip out?"


    But when he looked up, it wasn''t him. It was the other student who had spoken.


    "Max," Joe said, his voice calm but firm. "I helped you back in the classroom, but it wasn''t because we''re friends. In that situation... I got hurt. And now, things have gotten worse for me just because I stood up for you."


    He shook his head.


    "If I keep being associated with you, it''s only going to get worse. And now you want to go up against Dipter and the whole school? That''s insane."


    Without waiting for a response, Joe turned and headed for the door.


    Steven watched him leave, and something in his gut twisted. But after a long pause, he let out a sigh and walked toward his desk.


    "I think¡­ I might be in the same shoes as him," Steven said. "I just can''t do it, Max."


    As the two began walking away, clearly ready to leave, Max stood still, eyes focused. But he had a few final words, words that made both of them pause mid-step.


    "I''ll give you two thousand for every person you knock out," Max said calmly.


    They both turned slightly, not sure they''d heard him right.


    "With fifty people... that''s a hundred thousand up for grabs."

 Chapter 66 - 66: Money, Money, Money

    Inside the gym, only two sounds echoed through the space.


    The sharp thud of fists hitting pads, one after the other, and the steady chant that came with each strike.


    "Money, money, money!" Joe shouted with every punch.


    "Again!" Steven barked, raising the pads.


    "Money, money, money!" Joe yelled, throwing his fists harder with each word.


    With every chant, Joe swung with everything he had, pouring energy into each hit like he was punching straight through the promise of that paycheck.


    "The two of them have certainly changed their tune," Aron commented from the side.


    "Right?" Max said with a small smirk. "I expected as much."


    The moment Max mentioned how much he was willing to pay, two thousand per knockout, their heads snapped around like magnets. And just like that, they agreed to help take down Dipter.


    They were so excited Max swore he could see dollar signs sparkling in their eyes.


    Once they were on board, Max asked Steven to start training Joe properly.


    Joe had plenty of street fight experience, he was one of the strongest in his class, but still not on the level of someone like Ko, or a few of the others. He had raw power, sure, but not technique.


    The good news? Most of the students were like that. The ones who were strong? They were just naturally talented. Almost none of them had any real training.


    With Joe getting some basic training in, he''d at least be a step ahead of the others, and to his credit, he was giving it his all.


    "Steven''s been having financial troubles," Max said as he watched. "So I had a feeling he''d say yes. As for Joe... I''m pretty sure even just two thousand is more money than he''s ever imagined having as a student."


    The two of them stood there for a while, observing the scene, Joe yelling out his money chants with each hit, Steven barking orders like a proper coach.


    Then Aron spoke up.


    "Based on everything you''ve said about Dipter and the group behind him¡­ do you really think this will be enough?" he asked. "Enough to solve the problem?"


    Max didn''t respond right away.


    It was hard to say. He didn''t know how strong Steven truly was. Or Aron, for that matter. And this wasn''t the time to test them and risk anyone getting injured before things really kicked off.


    As for Joe... even if they trained him nonstop for the next few days, at best he might be able to take on three, maybe four guys, if he fought smart.


    "The truth is¡­ it''s not enough," Max admitted. "Even with us, I don''t think we''ll be able to win."


    "Then how about this," Aron suggested. "Use the money to hire more students at your school, just like you did with Joe. Numbers might help, even if they''re just fodder."


    Before Max knew the truth about Aron, he never would''ve imagined the man suggesting something like that, paying off students just to use them as human shields. But now that he understood Aron''s true nature, it was strangely comforting to have him around. At least he was honest about who he was.


    "It wouldn''t work, not with the other students," Max said. "They could just take the money. There''s no trust, and I think Dipter has a grip on them... a grip made of fear."


    He glanced toward Joe, still pounding the pads like every punch was paying rent.


    "Controlling one person is doable. Joe already had one foot out the door by accident. If I''d told him from the start that he''d be going against Dipter, I''m not sure the money alone would''ve swayed him."


    Max crossed his arms, thinking it through.


    "Using money is the key. But we have to do it smart, quietly. In a way that no one catches on. You''re thinking in the right direction," he added, then looked at Aron. "What about the security team? Can we trust them?"


    Aron shook his head immediately.


    "No. Everything happening now, they''d report it straight to Dennis. I don''t know who''s in whose pocket anymore. And any info we share could easily make its way back to them."


    "Using the other members of the security team for something like this?" Aron shook his head. "I doubt they''d even wantto be involved."


    Still, whether they could rely on security or not didn''t change Max''s core problem, and that was school. He couldn''t just avoid it forever.


    For the rest of the day, the others continued training. Even Aron joined in, running through his daily workout routine. He needed to stay in shape, after all. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Joe was left standing in awe, watching what had become an all-out fitness competition between Steven and Aron.


    Both of them were built, ripped, and evenly matched. Not that surprising, considering who they were.


    Max, meanwhile, still couldn''t train. His body was sore all over. But during the downtime, he''d been thinking... and finally, he''d come up with a plan. One that shouldn''t cause him any trouble, or so he hoped.


    "Alright, everyone!" Max called out. "That''s enough for today. Let''s meet up here tomorrow, early, 10 a.m."


    "What? You want me to skip school again? My parents are gonna kill me," Joe complained.


    "Well, you could go to school," Max said with a smirk, "and see if Dipter kills you instead."


    Joe groaned, but he understood. Reluctantly, the whole group agreed to rest for the day.


    The next morning, when Max woke up, he immediately noticed the difference. His body still ached, but it was manageable now. At least he could move without wincing.


    It was perfect, his body was just recovered enough for what he had planned today.


    After getting ready, Max headed to the gym, only to be surprised when he arrived.


    Everyone was already there, waiting for him.


    Steven moved to open the metal railing to let them into the gym like usual, but Max raised a hand.


    "No need. We''re not going to the gym today," Max said. "We''re going somewhere else."


    A few minutes later, a large taxi pulled up to the curb. Without a word, the whole group climbed in.


    Joe peeked at the meter after they''d been driving for a while and nearly choked.


    "Wait... it''s a one-hour ride?! And at that price? Wouldn''t the train have been way cheaper?"


    "This is quicker," Max replied, eyes forward. "I need everyone ready. Because where we''re going... anything could happen. So be prepared to fight."


    The group fell silent. Tension rose in the car. They weren''t heading to school, so what on earth had Max planned?


    Max turned his head slightly, then said with complete calm:


    "We''re going to Notting Hill City."

 Chapter 67 - 67: Notting Hill City

    Notting Hill City.


    It was a place dear to Max. His hometown. Where he grew up, where he went to school, and most importantly, where he founded the White Tiger gang and built his first empire.


    He had been proud of everything he''d created there... until he joined the Stern Empire. Because, as they say, comparison is the thief of joy.


    The reason he chose this city for today''s plan was simple, he knew it better than anyone. Every street corner, every alleyway, every shopfront and shadow. The people. The shortcuts. The secrets.


    This was his city.


    I just never expected to come back so soon, Max thought. I always planned to return when I was ready, to take it back. But... circumstances have changed.


    "So, Max," Joe said, leaning forward from the back seat, "are you gonna explain why we''re going to a completely different city? Because this is starting to feel like the setup for some kind of death game."


    He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.


    "Like, you''re not about to leave us in the middle of nowhere and say ''first one to escape wins,'' or tell us we have to kill each other for cash, right?"


    Joe didn''t know Max that well. But what he did know was enough to raise red flags, Max had stabbed people with pencils, bribed others to do questionable things with money, and had an uncomfortably deep obsession with Power Rangers.


    So honestly... it wasn''t that far-fetched.


    "If I told you now," Max replied, "you''d probably all jump out of the car. I''ll explain once we''re closer."


    That didn''t exactly reassure anyone.


    In the back seat, Steven and Joe exchanged a look before quietly gulping. Yeah... not exactly confidence-inspiring.


    With the long ride ahead of them, the group eventually settled in and started talking. Or at least, Steven and Joe did.


    Steven began sharing stories from his boxing days, what it was like being a journeyman, the fights, the near-wins, the brutal losses.


    Joe listened with surprising interest, occasionally chiming in with disbelief or awe.


    Steven spoke about how, back in his boxing days, people would often approach him and ask him to lose fights, on purpose, just to make their opponents look good. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Equally, Steven seemed just as fascinated by the bizarre school the others came from. He started asking questions about Dipter, unable to wrap his head around the idea of a high schooler being feared like a mob boss.


    "Come on," Steven said. "A kid that strong has got to have trained in something. You don''t get that kind of fear unless you''ve practiced some form of real fighting, right?"


    "I''m honestly not sure," Joe replied with a shrug. "The two by his side, Snide likes using weapons and sneak attacks. He''s got no problem jumping people when they''re not looking. Kind of reminds me of Max, actually."


    Max chose to ignore the comment.


    "As for Jay," Joe continued, "he''s a big guy. Real powerful. Looks like he knows some wrestling, don''t think I''ve ever seen anyone take him down. But Dipter? I don''t think I''ve ever seen him fight. Either that, or the fights end too fast. His opponents are always on the ground, bloody, before anyone even gets there. And honestly... that''s even scarier."


    Max listened closely. The details gave him a better idea of what to expect, and who to be wary of.


    Jay was still a mystery. Max wasn''t sure how to read him.


    If I have to go up against him... especially after saving him, Max thought, that could be a real problem.


    He hoped Jay stayed out of it. Because right now, Max believed he was the biggest hurdle.


    As the ride went on, one question kept bubbling in Joe''s mind. And with nothing else to do, he figured now was the time to ask it.


    "Max... I''ve been wondering," Joe said. "How do you even have all this money in the first place? And if you do, why the heck are you even going to our school? Who are you?"


    For the first time during the entire ride, Aron, seated right beside Max, turned to look at them.


    The glare he gave could''ve stopped a charging bull. It hit Joe and Steven like a shockwave, silencing both of them instantly.


    "Careful, he might taze you," Steven muttered under his breath.


    "Taze me?!" Joe shot back, eyes wide.


    Max chuckled at their reactions.


    "I don''t mind telling you both," he said. "But let me warn you, if you know the truth, there''s a good chance your lives will start to look like mine. There''s a reason why I''m being targeted. By Dipter. By Ko. And why we''ve had to go this far. I got stabbed the other day. So if you really want to know... there''s a decent chance you could end up dead."


    "Okay, nope, we''re good," Steven said quickly, holding his hands up. "We don''t need to know. It''s better we don''t know. We just need to make sure we get the money."


    Finally, the car rolled into Notting Hill City.


    It was huge, nearly the size of Mancur City, and like most big cities, its center was packed with towering skyscrapers and glass buildings. But they weren''t heading for the center.


    They were heading for the outskirts.


    As the car continued, the scenery started to shift. The streets got rougher. Trash littered the sidewalks. Houses were crammed closer together, some with boarded-up windows or rusted gates. Eventually, they turned off into what looked like an old industrial zone.


    Everything about the place screamed abandoned.


    The car came to a slow stop in front of a rusted, half-collapsed auto repair shop. Spray-painted in red across the upper wall were the words:


    "The Pit."


    Scattered around the outside were stripped-down car frames and broken tools left to rot on the concrete.


    They hadn''t even gone inside yet, but no one felt safe, not even Aron.


    "Master, are you sure this is the right place?" Aron asked, glancing at the others.


    "Yeah," Max said, stepping out of the car. "You asked why I brought you all here with me today, right?"


    He turned to face them, serious now.


    "Well... it''s because right now, I need you to act as my bodyguards. Because where we are, this place, The Pit, we''re standing in the heart of a real gang''s territory."

 Chapter 68: A Real Gang

    Chapter 68: A Real GangThe others in the car were shocked to hear the word gang, and even the driver had turned around, his eyes practically popping out of his head.


    When people heard the word gang, or mafia, the mob, certain images immediately came to mind.


    Mostly, it was what they¡¯d seen in the news or on popular TV shows. And let¡¯s be honest, it didn¡¯t exactly paint them as the nicest people in the world. Now, here they were, right in the center of it, getting far too close to that world for comfort.


    Still, there was a reason Max had chosen such a desperate measure. His perspective had shifted drastically.


    After being attacked by students, he didn¡¯t see them as just teens anymore, he saw them as a gang, one willing to use weapons to get what they wanted.


    So what was the best way to deal with a gang? sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hire another gang to take care of them.


    For one, they needed more people on their side, people who were actually willing to fight. And real gang members were the answer to that.


    It was also a way to recruit fighters without drawing attention from anyone who might¡¯ve been watching him.


    But this wasn¡¯t something just anyone could do. Gangs were ruthless. Dangerous. The question was, how did you even find the right kind of people? How did you know who to trust?


    How would you find someone loyal? Someone skilled? Someone true to their world?


    Walking into the wrong place, saying the wrong thing, it was a fast-track to going missing, ending up at the bottom of a river, never to be found again.


    But it was different for Max. He knew this city inside and out. And when it came to gangs... Max knew them very well.


    "Don¡¯t you dare open that door!" Joe shouted, practically pressing himself against the seat. "You really brought us to a real gang¡¯s hideout?! Have you lost your mind? I don¡¯t even think your money can save you here!"


    "What are you thinking?! I don¡¯t want to die, I¡¯m so... so young!"


    "Do you think I want to die?" Max replied calmly. "The reason I came here is because I don¡¯t want to. Trust me, I¡¯m not looking to die either."


    He stepped out of the car and turned back. "Besides, it¡¯s not as dangerous as you think. We¡¯re only meeting with a street-level gang."


    "Street-level gang?" Steven repeated, his voice full of confusion. The way Max had said it made it sound like it should¡¯ve been obvious, but neither Steven nor even Aron had a clue what he meant.


    Max let out a long sigh.


    "I guess it would be good for you to know what we¡¯re dealing with before we head in there. Look... there are three types of gangs out there."


    "The three types of gangs actually work together," Max began. "They form a structure, with synergy all the way to the top."


    He looked around at the group to make sure they were listening.


    "Street-level gangs are usually made up of people involved in petty theft. Sometimes tagging, intimidation jobs, extortion, and courier work for the higher-tier gangs. In some cases, they¡¯re used in turf wars too."


    He paused, tapping the door lightly with his fingers.


    "Because of all that, most of the members in these groups tend to be younger, more reckless. They want recognition from the higher-ups, and they¡¯re eager to prove themselves. That¡¯s why they¡¯ll be perfect for our side."


    Max reached for the door handle, until Joe raised another question.


    "Wait, you said three tiers, right? What about the other two? What¡¯s above the street-level guys?"


    Max nodded, not surprised by the question.


    "The second tier above them are the organized groups," he said. "Their main focus is profit and control. They use the street gangs to do most of the dirty work, but when they get involved directly, it¡¯s because something big is happening."


    He leaned back slightly against the car.


    "They focus on drug trades, black market sales, maybe even underground fighting rings. With the money they make, they¡¯ve got real influence in the city. Different groups have different priorities, depending on how they operate and where they invest their money."


    "Then lastly, you have the Elite Syndicates," Max continued. "In some ways, they operate in the same space as the second group, but they¡¯re in a completely different league."


    He glanced at the others, their eyes locked on him.


    "They have enough power to influence political campaigns, conduct data theft, and some of them even deal in assassinations, among other things. Like I said before, the type of business varies from group to group. But these Elite Syndicates... they¡¯re not to be messed with."


    Max¡¯s tone was dead serious now.


    "They often use the lower tiers, including the organized crews, without those people even realizing it."


    No one spoke.


    They were completely locked in, hooked on every word Max was saying. It was like hearing someone reveal a hidden world they didn¡¯t even know existed.


    He knew so much... more than they could¡¯ve imagined.


    "Wait," Joe finally asked, eyes wide. "They really have the power to influence political campaigns? And the news and stuff doesn¡¯t report on it?"


    "Right," Max said, nodding. "And remember what I said, it all starts at the bottom. Everything begins with the Street-Level gangs."


    He paused for emphasis.


    "Usually, it¡¯s the members who move up, shifting between groups as they climb the ladder. But in rare cases, a street-level gang can evolve into an organized crew. And from there, they might be invited to join an Elite Syndicate."


    "Invited?" Steven repeated, eyebrows raised.


    That was too much information for Max to give.


    "That¡¯s not important," he said. "What is important is that today, we¡¯re meeting a street-level gang. The group most used to fighting, and the easiest to influence with the one thing I have."


    He reached for the door.


    "Money."


    One by one, the group stepped out of the taxi. The driver, who had clearly heard more than he ever wanted to, didn¡¯t waste a second, he hit the gas and disappeared down the road.


    The group was about to come face-to-face with a real gang. And none of them were exactly excited about it.


    "Can I ask you something else?" Joe said, glancing at Max. "How do you even know all this?"


    It was a question Aron had been wondering too.


    After all, Max was someone who couldn¡¯t even remember his own family members¡ªbut could talk about gang hierarchy and underworld operations like he wrote the rulebook.


    Max didn¡¯t answer.


    He just kept walking ahead.


    But the answer was simple.


    The White Tiger was an Elite-Level Syndicate.


    And Max... was their leader.

 Chapter 69: A Street Gang

    Chapter 69: A Street GangThe entire group continued walking through the abandoned auto garage. All around them were the rusted skeletons of old cars, stripped down to their frames and left to decay.


    They followed the noise ahead, a loud, rowdy group just beyond the shop.


    Steven and Joe twitched at every sound, constantly looking over their shoulders like someone might jump out at them at any second.


    "Ha! Doesn¡¯t matter anyway," Steven said, trying to hype himself up. "Even if they do rob me, I¡¯m already in minus money, so it¡¯s not like they can take anything else!"


    "Man... I hope I don¡¯t end up like you when I¡¯m older," Joe said, side-eying Steven¡¯s oddly proud expression.


    "What the heck did you just say? And you¡¯re proud of being a bully! At least I¡¯m not like you, Green."


    "And now you¡¯re bullying me!" Joe snapped back.


    But the moment their voices got loud, both of them fell silent.


    They had just rounded the corner, and now the front of the shop came into view.


    The first thing they noticed was the makeshift furniture scattered around the area, chairs and tables slapped together from tires, crates, and broken parts.


    A beat-up stereo system sat in the corner, blaring music from an old speaker that looked like it was powered by a hacked-up generator barely holding on.


    There were about twelve people in total, both male and female dressed in their own chaotic, individualized styles. Just like Max had said, most of them looked to be on the younger side.


    Barely in their twenties, the group lounged around, drinking and joking loudly, but among them, one person stood out.


    Toward the back, slouched in a beaten-up sofa, sat a young man dressed in a black tracksuit. He didn¡¯t look particularly muscular or athletic, but his sharp, narrow eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking. His lightly orange-colored hair might have been what people noticed first, but what really made him stand out was the cold, unreadable look in his eyes.


    As Max¡¯s group stepped further into the open space, every single person turned to look.


    Except him.


    The man on the sofa didn¡¯t so much as flinch.


    The loud music blaring from the speaker was quickly shut off by one of the gang members, and nearly all of them bent down to grab something off the ground.


    Some picked up bricks. Others rusted iron pipes. A few simply stuck out their tongues and grinned in twisted amusement.


    "Look at this group of wannabes," one of the guys laughed, pointing his iron pipe at them. "Where¡¯d you all meet, a costume shop? You couldn¡¯t look more mismatched if you tried!"


    Max had to admit... the guy wasn¡¯t wrong.


    Both he and Joe were still wearing their school uniforms, meant to make them seem less threatening.


    Steven was dressed in his signature red tracksuit. Meanwhile, Aron stood tall in a full black suit like he¡¯d just walked out of a corporate boardroom.


    It wasn¡¯t just their clothes either, it was their whole vibe. Each one of them looked like they¡¯d come from a completely different world.


    Unlike the group standing in front of them, Max¡¯s crew clearly looked like an odd mismatch.


    "I¡¯m here to talk to the leader of The Pit," Max said in a loud, confident voice. "I have some business."


    The man with the orange hair slowly raised his hand, then made a subtle gesture for them to come forward.


    Max obeyed, stepping ahead with Aron walking at his side, never falling more than a pace behind.


    As they moved closer, they stopped when they were around three meters from the man.


    The rest of the gang had now circled around behind them, boxing them in. Two more stood at the leader¡¯s sides.


    They were surrounded.


    And yet, Max had to admit, compared to the atmosphere back at school, this situation didn¡¯t feel quite as tense. The fear he¡¯d felt there... it still lingered stronger than here.


    "A school kid wants to do business with us, The Pit?" the leader said with a mocking tone. "You do realize, we¡¯re not just some low-tier crew who works for anyone... especially a bunch of lemons like you."


    His voice was steady, cold, and laced with sharp amusement.


    "How¡¯d you even know about this place? How¡¯d you find our hideout?" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It wasn¡¯t like someone could just Google The Pit Gang and find directions to their base.


    In the underworld, making contact wasn¡¯t easy. Usually, the gang found you, not the other way around. And even then, it was always through someone who knew someone who knew someone, followed by vague arrangements through burner phones or coded messages.


    But for someone to know exactly where their hideout was, the entire Pit gang was on edge because of it.


    "You don¡¯t need to ask any questions," Max said firmly. "That¡¯s not your job. I¡¯ll give you a proposal, and you just need to decide whether you¡¯re willing to take it or not."


    "What is with this guy?" one of the girls from the gang scoffed from behind. She took a step forward, but the leader raised his hand to stop her.


    "But Wolf!" she protested. "He¡¯s acting like he¡¯s on equal footing with you! He should¡¯ve come with a gift, or been begging. The fact that we haven¡¯t broken their legs just for showing up¡ª"


    "Just tell me the proposal," said Wolf, the leader of The Pit.


    "100,000," Max said plainly, dropping the number first. "To be shared among all of you."


    That got their attention.


    Immediately, the entire gang¡¯s mood shifted. Even the angry girl fell quiet, realizing this wasn¡¯t just some punk playing tough, this was a serious offer.


    "I can give you 10,000 now," Max continued, "and the remaining 90,000 when the job is done. For you guys, it should be easy."


    He paused, then explained just enough.


    "The school we go to... they¡¯ve formed a large group. I¡¯ve been marked as a target. I want your help, not to take over, not to cause chaos, I just need your help to get to my target."


    Max was choosing his words carefully, trying his best not to make the job sound beneath them. After all, they were a gang. There was pride in that.


    Going up against high schoolers wasn¡¯t exactly good for a gang¡¯s reputation. It sounded petty, weak, even.


    But money was money.


    And the amount Max was offering for what sounded like one day¡¯s work... it was tempting for anyone.


    "Hey, wait," Joe whispered. "Are they getting paid more than us?"


    "Well, there are more of them," Steven replied. "So I guess that¡¯s fair..."


    Wolf leaned forward slightly, a smirk playing on his face.


    "You know," he said, "there is another way I could get that money."


    The group stiffened.


    "How about I just beat you down, take your phone, and force you to transfer it over?"


    The Pit members around them chuckled darkly. A few were already stepping closer, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.


    They were smiling, but not the kind of smiles you wanted to see. These were the grins of people who enjoyed the prelude to violence.


    Max didn¡¯t flinch.


    Instead, he leaned slightly toward the others and whispered calmly.


    "Remember what I said. I brought you here to be my bodyguards... so you might want to start earning that money."

 Chapter 70: No One Attack’s Us

    Chapter 70: No One Attack¡¯s UsThe group watched as the gang members slowly closed in, smiles wide, weapons in hand, and dark chuckles rumbling from their throats.


    Memories from every crime movie they¡¯d ever seen came flooding into their minds. The setting, the atmosphere, it all felt too real.


    If their bodies were dealt with in a place like this, it could be weeks before anyone found them, if anyone found them at all.


    "Hey, kid, you do have a plan, right?" Steven whispered urgently. "Right? You knew there was a chance they¡¯d turn on us when you mentioned having that kind of money?"


    "Yeah," Max said calmly. "I have a plan."


    Steven and Joe both exhaled in relief.


    "The plan is you guys," Max added, glancing at them. "You¡¯re my guards, remember?"


    That was not the plan they¡¯d been hoping for.


    And it was already too late. The Pit members charged in.


    Steven moved on instinct. As a gang member swung a metal pipe down toward him, Steven quickly raised his arms, and launched a fist straight into the guy¡¯s face.


    The pipe slipped from the man¡¯s hand, clattering harmlessly to the side as Steven stepped in and drove a hard punch deep into his stomach.


    "Hitting these guys compared to students? Yeah, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll feel as bad!" Steven yelled.


    "Help me!" Joe shouted, ducking just in time as a brick flew past his head. He scrambled backward, only to realize two more gang members were chasing after him, reaching out to grab him.


    As Joe sprinted around the area, he was quick on his feet¡ªdodging punches, ducking under swings, weaving between gang members with surprising agility.


    "Well, if there¡¯s one thing he¡¯s got going for him, it¡¯s his cardio," Steven muttered. "But hey, at least it¡¯s a good distraction!"


    Using the moment, Steven turned to punch another gang member in the side of the head¡ªbut this one wasn¡¯t like the last.


    The gang member lifted a solid forearm and blocked the hit entirely.


    Not all of them were going to be easy targets.


    Wolf watched the scene unfold from his seat, eyes narrowing with interest. He hadn¡¯t expected much from the newcomers, but now he was intrigued.


    "The man in red clearly knows how to fight," Wolf mumbled to himself. "I wonder what he¡¯s doing hanging around the rest of them... is he their uncle or something? Should I report him to the police?"


    Meanwhile, Joe, still running, knew he couldn¡¯t avoid the fight forever.


    As one of the Pit members charged him, Joe leapt forward, slamming his foot straight into the person¡¯s gut. It knocked the attacker back, but Joe stumbled too, crashing to the ground and rolling as another came in swinging.


    He scrambled to his feet, only to realize he¡¯d been backed into one of the rusted-out metal car frames.


    "This isn¡¯t good... this isn¡¯t good!" Joe panicked.


    The group moved in, fists swinging.


    Joe turtled up, twisting his body just as one of the punches missed and slammed into the metal frame behind him with a loud clang. The others hit their mark, but he managed to shield his face, taking the blows to his arms and sides.


    "Hey, he¡¯s a quick learner!" Steven shouted mid-fight. "I only taught him for a day and he¡¯s already using everything I taught him!"


    He paused, shifting his focus away from the opponent in front of him, someone who, somehow, was still standing despite taking a heavy beating. Instead, Steven moved in toward Joe, launching a swift uppercut into one of the gang members who had been relentlessly attacking him.


    Then he spun and threw a fist toward another, only to stop just short of the guy¡¯s face.


    "How about... you join the gym?" Steven asked with a grin.


    The Pit member, stunned for a second, suddenly retaliated, swinging at Steven with wild punches.


    But Steven dodged them with ease, pivoting, swaying, and weaving like a pro.


    "You¡¯re talented, I mean it!" Steven added, ducking under a punch. "And hey, if you do join the gym, I¡¯ll take care of this guy for you!"


    "Yes, yes, yes!" Joe yelled as he scrambled out of the way. "I¡¯ll join!" S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From his position, Max had been keeping a close eye on everything.


    Steven really was strong, in every sense. Not once had he been hit, despite all the attackers coming for him. And Joe... well, Joe was less useless than Max had expected.


    Still, they were fighting against people who knew how to fight. This wasn¡¯t some schoolyard scuffle.


    Which meant one thing, they couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate them.


    The ones Steven had hit, guys who had looked like they were down for the count, were now starting to get back up.


    They shook off the blows, steadying themselves, ready to go for round two.


    And since there were plenty of them... not all of their attention was on Steven and Joe.


    Two of the Pit members broke from the group, weapons in hand, charging straight toward Max.


    But as they ran, Wolf noticed something strange.


    Why... why isn¡¯t he afraid? Wolf thought. He¡¯s not even looking at the fight. He¡¯s looking at me. He¡¯s been staring at me this whole time.


    He didn¡¯t know the reason, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.


    Just as the two attackers closed in on Max, a figure stepped in front of them, swiftly, almost as if he had appeared from nowhere.


    It was Aron.


    In one fluid motion, he lifted his leg and slammed it sideways into the first attacker¡¯s kneecap, causing the man to scream out in pain.


    As the second one swung an iron bar downward, Aron dodged to the side, grabbed the man¡¯s arm, extended it fully, and with a brutal twist downward, used all his weight to crush the elbow. The crack echoed through the air, followed by a howl of agony.


    The second attacker rushed in, enraged by the sight of his ally being maimed.


    Aron reached into his suit and calmly pulled out his baton.


    In a flash, he swung it, knocking the incoming iron weapon aside. Then, shifting his stance, he brought the baton down hard on the attacker¡¯s arm, hitting so forcefully that the weapon clattered to the floor.


    Without a second of hesitation, Aron struck again, this time into the man¡¯s ribs. The attacker grunted, instinctively lowering his arms to cover his side.


    That was all the opening Aron needed.


    With a final swing, he smashed the baton upward, right under the man¡¯s chin.


    The hit was so strong it lifted the attacker clean off his feet before he crumpled to the ground in a heap.


    Aron stood still, positioned protectively in front of Max, eyes sharp and posture composed.


    "I¡¯ve failed you too many times already," Aron said quietly. "But as long as I stand physically at your side, I won¡¯t allow a single person to lay a hand on you, Master."

 Chapter 71: My Bloodline

    Chapter 71: My BloodlineMax had stood still the entire time. Ever since he and Aron had shared a particular conversation, he¡¯d begun to notice something, he actually felt safe around him.


    Since the moment they¡¯d entered this place, Aron hadn¡¯t been more than a foot away from Max. And for the first time, Max truly felt like he had a real bodyguard. One worthy of the Stern family name.


    Part of the reason Max hadn¡¯t moved was simple, his shoulder was still heavily sore, and he didn¡¯t exactly want to fight. But beyond that, he knew it was better for his position right now to look defenseless. To let his people speak for him.


    Aron is more talented than I thought, Max admitted inwardly. He took down two armed opponents with barely any effort... and without a hint of fear. It¡¯s hard to know what to expect from someone given the title "Head of Security," but clearly, he didn¡¯t get it just because he¡¯s my brother.


    It made Max wonder, did the rest of the Stern family know how dangerous Aron really was? If they did, they¡¯d try everything they could to separate them. To isolate Max. Because someone like Aron was a threat, to them.


    School¡¯s the key, Max thought. If I can fix what¡¯s happening there, then everything else will fall into place.


    "STOP!" a voice suddenly roared.


    It was Wolf, rising from his seat for the first time.


    Immediately, the rest of the gang halted their attacks, pulling back and gathering around him.


    One of them even went to retrieve the man whose arm had been broken.


    "How the heck did you end up like that?" one of them grumbled, half in disbelief.


    "It was that arsehole in the glasses," the injured guy groaned as he was eventually dropped onto a pile of old tires.


    "You want to make a deal, and then you hurt my people?" Wolf asked, his tone calm but edged with warning.


    Out of everyone present, Max only had eyes for him.


    Wolf.


    He was the only one Max truly cared about in this situation. He¡¯d heard of Wolf before. In his past life, he¡¯d even seen the guy¡¯s fighting skills firsthand.


    The rest? Fodder. No better than the delinquents back at school. But Wolf, if Max could get him on his side, that would change everything.


    Because once Wolf joined the fight, that¡¯s when the real test would begin, for Aron, for Steven, and for everyone else.


    "You were the ones that attacked us," Max replied, keeping his voice steady. "You can try and take what I¡¯m offering by force, but as you¡¯ve seen, a lot of people will get hurt in the process."


    Wolf smiled, slowly reclining back into his seat.


    "The fact that you¡¯ve got those people around you, and still came asking for help, tells me this isn¡¯t going to be an easy job," he said. "I can tell... just from the size of the payment."


    He brought his hands together, elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly.


    He was thinking it over. And then, he spoke again.


    "Tell you what," Wolf said. "Why don¡¯t you tell me how you managed to find this place? Throw that in, and maybe I¡¯ll be more inclined to help."


    The situation was beginning to grate on Max. Fighting them would be pointless. Forcing them into anything was even less likely.


    He needed Wolf to agree, voluntarily. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But what would convince him?


    Max could raise the money if needed, but that wasn¡¯t the issue. The whole reason he came to a street-level gang instead of a higher-tier organization was simple, there¡¯d be less risk of the Stern family finding out what he was doing.


    Then something hit Max, something he might actually be able to use.


    "This relationship," Max said slowly, clearly, "will allow us to strengthen our bond in the future. If you do me this favor now, I promise it will be the beginning of a path that leads all the way to the top."


    Everyone standing behind Max stared at him, eyes wide. Even Aron looked confused. Because none of them understood a single word that had just come out of Max¡¯s mouth.


    "Wait... is he speaking another language?" Joe whispered.


    "Yeah... kinda sounds Russian?" Steven replied, thinking back to some of the opponents he¡¯d fought in the ring.


    "You have any idea what he just said?"


    "No clue. Total guess on my part."


    Back in his previous life, Max had worked through all kinds of business deals, some local, some international. During that time, certain phrases and foreign words stuck with him.


    In particular, he¡¯d always found it more respectful, and effective to learn bits of the language spoken by his partners.


    Now, he¡¯d just used a phrase that had once been spoken to him.


    "You know how to speak my mother tongue?" Wolf asked, responding in the same language, one that left everyone else in the room completely lost.


    Max shook his head. "Only a few words. Not enough."


    Then he switched back to English.


    "But I meant what I said."


    Wolf sat in silence, deep in thought. The others around him didn¡¯t understand what had just happened, but they could feel something shift in the air.


    Finally, Wolf nodded.


    "For some reason," he said, "I feel like interesting things are going to happen with you."


    He stood up, extending his hand.


    "Fine. Let¡¯s start our partnership, between us, The Pit, and... who? Who even are you guys?"


    This was an important point in Max¡¯s journey.


    In the underworld, names carried serious weight. A name wasn¡¯t just a label, it was a symbol, a banner that others could rally behind or fear.


    The weight of a name could make other groups take you seriously.


    Sometimes, the right name could win a battle before it even began.


    The name White Tiger... that one was off-limits now. It belonged to a past life. A life Max couldn¡¯t step back into, not yet.


    But if he was going to build something new, if this was the beginning of his next empire, then it was time to create a name of his own.


    He hadn¡¯t thought much about it until now, but he had always planned to form his own group eventually.


    And maybe... this could be the place it started.


    My life has changed a lot... Max thought. Let¡¯s choose a name that reflects that.


    "We¡¯re the... Billion Bloodline," Max said.

 Chapter 72: A Senstive Question

    Chapter 72: A Senstive QuestionA wave of chuckles rippled through the Pit members the moment they heard the name.


    "Enough!" Wolf barked, instantly silencing them.


    "Any name, no matter what it sounds like, deserves respect. It might sound stupid today, but tomorrow, it could be a name none of you would dare to speak aloud."


    The name Max had chosen was more than just a title, it was a reflection of what he was going through.


    He needed to accept his new life and use everything in it to his advantage.


    What stuck with him most was the amount of wealth he had at his fingertips, and the way he intended to use it to build a new empire.


    That wealth had come from his bloodline, so mixing the two ideas together felt perfect for this new beginning.


    "Hey... wouldn¡¯t it have been better if he, like, brainstormed the name with us first?" Joe asked. "And wait, are we officially part of this Billionaire Bloodline too? Are we, like, a crew now?"


    For someone like Joe, who¡¯d just been another delinquent under Ko, the whole thing actually sounded... exciting. Being here in front of a real gang was terrifying at first, but now? Now it felt like he was living out the version of life most delinquents only fantasized about.


    In a way, school had just been a smaller, safer version of the real underworld waiting outside its gates.


    "Billionaire Bloodline, huh? Makes us sound like some high-class crew..." Steven said, raising an eyebrow. "And I¡¯m anything but wealthy."


    "Haha! Yeah, if you made a gang, it¡¯d be called the Broke Bloodline," Joe laughed.


    He was immediately rewarded with a slap to the back of the head from Steven.


    "Alright," Wolf said, rising to his feet. He looked serious now, ready to move. "From here on out, The Pit agrees to work with the Billionaire Bloodline for this task."


    "It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ll come to you," Max said. "I need to send over that deposit payment anyway."


    As Max stepped toward Wolf, Aron instinctively followed, but Max turned back, raising a hand to stop him.


    "It¡¯s fine," Max said calmly. "I¡¯ll sort this out. We need to show there¡¯s a level of trust between us. If they break that trust, they¡¯ll ruin their own reputation. No one would work with them again, and they¡¯d spend the rest of their lives stuck dealing in petty crime, stealing and selling car parts just to survive."


    Some of the Pit members grunted, muttering complaints under their breath, but they knew he wasn¡¯t wrong.


    When Max reached Wolf, he sat down on the battered sofa and extended his hand. Wolf accepted it, sealing the deal with a firm handshake.


    The two of them continued talking as Max pulled out his phone, requesting Wolf¡¯s payment details to send over the agreed deposit.


    While that was happening, Aron turned his gaze back toward Joe and Steven, who, as always were still bickering between themselves.


    Eventually, Aron walked over to them.


    "Hey, good job messing those two people up earlier," Steven said, offering a nod. "I think that might¡¯ve been what stopped the whole fight from spiraling. I¡¯m still not happy about you cheating in our match, but credit where credit¡¯s due."


    "Don¡¯t suck up to him," Joe chimed in. "He¡¯s not the one handing out the money."


    Steven clenched his teeth, but reminded himself, they¡¯re just kids... immature kids.


    "It was just nice seeing someone else on the receiving end of your attacks for once," Steven muttered.


    "You¡¯re also quite talented," Aron replied, his tone sincere. "I believe it will be beneficial for you to continue teaching your student, for Max¡¯s sake."


    Out of everyone there, there was only one person who could protect Max while he was at school, and that was Joe. There would be times when Max might need an ally on the inside, which was why he¡¯d chosen his words carefully.


    "There¡¯s something else I wanted to ask you," Max said. "Do you study Russian at your school?"


    "Russian...? Not that I know of. Maybe a bit of Spanish... or was it French?" Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, no one pays attention in those language classes."


    "You don¡¯t say... I wonder how he managed to speak it then. Maybe he¡¯s just watched too many movies or something," Steven replied.


    The question Steven asked was the same one Aron had been silently pondering. A man with no memory suddenly able to speak Russian? Knowing about this hidden location in a city he barely visited?


    Had so much happened to Max that Aron didn¡¯t know about? And if that was the case, was Max really telling the truth about his amnesia?


    Because the more Max talked... the more things weren¡¯t adding up.


    Back at the makeshift sofa, Max had just finished exchanging details with Wolf. Two things had been completed. First, the deposit payment had been transferred with ease.


    Second was the exchange of contact information.


    That part was crucial, especially since they were operating between different cities. Now Max had Wolf¡¯s number, and vice versa.


    "So, you¡¯re planning to strike this weekend?" Wolf asked, leaning back.


    "Send us a message the day before. Nothing should come up, but just in case you need to abort, we¡¯ll hold position."


    "We¡¯ll meet you at the train station and go from there. Is this everyone you have?" Max asked, scanning the group.


    "It is. Ten people," Wolf confirmed. "Though one¡¯s been injured... a little too much. Will that be enough?"


    "Depends on how strong you are," Max joked, and it actually got a small smile out of Wolf.


    Still, as Wolf looked at the young man sitting across from him, something didn¡¯t quite add up. His body, his presence, it didn¡¯t match his mannerisms at all. And the way he spoke... it didn¡¯t feel like he was talking to a high school student.


    Then, in the middle of that thought, Max interrupted.


    "There was something else I wanted to ask you," Max said, his tone shifting slightly.


    There was a reason, a very specific reason that out of all the groups he could have chosen, Max had picked this one in particular. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I want to ask you about the White Tigers."

 Chapter 73: The Last Ranger

    Chapter 73: The Last RangerWith Max having once been the head of the White Tiger group, he knew a lot of street-level gangs.


    There were many he could¡¯ve chosen from. He didn¡¯t pick The Pit by accident, and Wolf¡¯s excellent fighting skills weren¡¯t the only reason he¡¯d made that choice.


    It was because the White Tiger gang had used The Pit in several past operations. Max knew Wolf¡¯s personality well, through stories, past dealings, and how his crew handled their business.


    That¡¯s why he hadn¡¯t come here alone. He knew better. Wolf wasn¡¯t someone you approached casually.


    Now that everything had been settled, Max finally had the chance to ask someone who¡¯d been fairly close to the White Tiger gang, face-to-face.


    "I¡¯m surprised a name like that came out of your mouth," Wolf said, leaning back into the couch. "But... you¡¯ve been full of surprises so far."


    "Well," he continued, "what do you want to know about them? Who they are? What they do? Their members? Depending on what you¡¯re asking, I can¡¯t just talk about them freely. You know how it is, it might cost you. Whether that¡¯s in money... or blood."


    It was the exact response Max had expected.


    "As you know, I¡¯m not from Notting Hill City," Max said. "So I just want to know... based on recent changes, does the city feel different? Has there been any big movement? You don¡¯t have to give me much, just what the word on the street is."


    "Recent changes?" Wolf echoed. Then he nodded slowly. "I guess that means you¡¯ve heard then, that the leader, Maximus... is dead."


    Of course Max knew.


    He was the first person to know. He¡¯d known before anyone else.


    And he was sure that news had already started to ripple through the underworld.


    "I can¡¯t say much," Wolf admitted. "Honestly, I don¡¯t know that much. I was bluffing earlier. But the city... it feels a bit uneasy. Like something big is brewing underneath. That¡¯s what I¡¯d say if you asked what the streets are saying."


    "We don¡¯t even know who the current leader of the White Tiger gang is," Wolf said, his tone dropping. "And we¡¯re worried some bigger groups might move in from other cities."


    "But what I will say is this, the White Tigers have been making the rounds in every area. The cubs are making sure all the other groups stay in line. And honestly, it seems like... they¡¯re trying to expand."


    "Is that what you think?" Max asked. "Or is that just word on the street?"


    "Me? I don¡¯t really think much," Wolf replied with a shrug. "Well... maybe just one thing."


    He leaned forward.


    "If their leader died, why the hell isn¡¯t the group trying to find out who did it?"


    "Everyone thought there¡¯d be a full-blown war with one of the rival gangs. But... nothing. Silence. And then¡ªboom¡ªthey¡¯re expanding? That just doesn¡¯t sit right with me."


    Max knew the obvious answer.


    If the ones who took him out were part of the White Tiger gang itself, then of course there would be no reason to look for the killer.


    He wasn¡¯t yet one hundred percent certain he¡¯d been betrayed, but the gang¡¯s recent actions... they were painting a clearer picture. And that picture was starting to confirm his worst fears.


    "Thanks for the information," Max said, standing up. "I know you didn¡¯t have to share it." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hey, I answered your question," Wolf said, stopping him. "Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s only fair you answer one of mine?"


    Max turned slightly, his expression unreadable.


    "I¡¯m not gonna ask who you are," Wolf continued. "I know you¡¯ve probably got your reasons. Your limitations."


    "But what¡¯s a high schooler doing walking around, asking me questions about the White Tiger gang?"


    Max paused, then kept walking. As he passed, he looked back over his shoulder and gave Wolf a small smile.


    "If I told you that," Max said with a small grin, "then I might have to kill you."


    The phrase wasn¡¯t spoken in English, it was a line often used within a particular circle. A circle that Wolf was very familiar with.


    It wasn¡¯t a threat. And Wolf knew that.


    Which is why he burst out laughing.


    "Let them go! Our business is done here. Contact me when you¡¯re ready!"


    The rest of the group didn¡¯t need to be told twice. They were more than happy to get out of the area.


    The odd bunch huddled together and started walking away from The Pit¡¯s hideout.


    After a few turns through the cracked pavement and faded paint of the retail park, they hit the main street again.


    Max pulled out his phone to call a taxi, and the group stood waiting.


    "That was intense," Joe exhaled, finally letting go of the breath he¡¯d been holding. "But the worst part is, we¡¯re gonna have to see them again."


    "And next time, they¡¯ll be our allies," Steven added with a groan. "Ah man... I feel like I¡¯m gonna have to wear a mask or something. An adult like me can¡¯t be seen going around beating up students!"


    Everyone had their own issues, their own worries, but things were finally starting to fall into place.


    "We have our Rangers now..." Max said, watching as the car pulled up in front of them. "Now we just need to make sure everything is ready before we act."


    He turned around, taking one last look at Notting Hill City.


    There was a good chance it would be a long time before he returned.


    *****


    Back at The Pit, the music was booming again. Drinks were out, laughter filled the air, and the gang had already started celebrating.


    In their eyes, it was an easy job with a big payday. They had every reason to party.


    One of the female members, Sandra, came over and sat down next to Wolf.


    "Should we inform the White Tiger that we¡¯re taking the job?" she asked. "That¡¯s what we usually do, right? Just to make sure there¡¯s no conflict of interest?"


    "No," Wolf replied flatly. "I think it¡¯s best we... keep this one to ourselves."


    Then his eyes narrowed slightly.


    "But what I do want you to do... is find out everything you can about that kid."

 Chapter 74: Frozen In Fear

    Chapter 74: Frozen In FearA few days had passed at school, and eventually, it was Friday again, the last day before the weekend would roll around.


    Abby found herself constantly walking down the hallways, each time hoping, just hoping, that maybe she¡¯d see Max back in the room again.


    But it never happened.


    While her head was turned, distracted by her thoughts, she accidentally bumped into a student right in front of her. She nearly fell backward, her books slipping from her arms and scattering across the floor.


    "Sorry about that," Abby said quickly. "I wasn¡¯t paying attention to where I was walking."


    The student she had run into knelt down without hesitation, picking up her books and handing them back to her.


    "Thank you," Abby said, slightly flustered.


    "No worries. Just be careful."


    "Yeah... I will. I¡¯m sorry for bumping into you again."


    "Not that," the student replied, his tone a little more serious. "You know the school¡¯s dangerous. If you notice anyone following you... you should be careful."


    In a school like this, it was rare to see someone act so nicely. With a polite smile, Abby gave him a quick nod and hurried off.


    Behind her, the student, Jay watched her walk away.


    "I have a weird feeling something¡¯s going to happen soon," Jay muttered under his breath. "But maybe it¡¯s for the best if nothing does."


    It didn¡¯t take long for Abby to meet up with Cindy in class. As she dropped into her seat, she let out a long, heavy sigh.


    "What¡¯s wrong?" Cindy asked. "Max not here again? You know you have his number, you could just message him and ask what¡¯s going on."


    "Our last conversation was just a little awkward, you know?" Abby said. "But... you¡¯re right. I can¡¯t just leave it the way it is. And on top of that..."


    She hesitated, lowering her voice.


    "I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because of what happened that day on the high street, but... things have just felt weird. Strange. I feel like people are almost following me."


    Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve.


    "Even outside my house... it¡¯s like there are people just hovering around."


    "It¡¯s just your imagination!" Cindy said quickly. "You¡¯re over-worrying as usual. Anyway, I¡¯ll tell you what you can do, why don¡¯t you surprise him this weekend? You know where he lives, right? Go and get him. Show him how much you really care."


    She gave Abby a grin.


    "I think any guy¡¯s heart would melt if someone as pretty as you showed up like that, being all honest and sweet."


    Abby¡¯s cheeks flushed pink at the compliment, but the idea of seeing him this weekend... didn¡¯t sound too bad after all.


    She didn¡¯t have anything better to do. And despite the lingering fear from earlier, something about the thought made her feel just a bit safer.


    Later, when school finally ended, Abby was ready to leave. She met up with Cindy as the two of them headed toward the bus stop together. As they walked out through the front gate, Abby¡¯s eyes were more alert than usual.


    That¡¯s when she saw him, across the street.


    A sharp-looking man, standing still in a neatly pressed suit, just watching the school from a distance.


    "What are you looking at?" Cindy asked, turning her head, then froze when she saw the same man.


    "I thought you were already head over heels for Max," Cindy teased. "That man¡¯s handsome, sure, but you don¡¯t need two of them. And that is a nice-looking suit... maybe I should be the one going after him."


    "Don¡¯t you remember what I told you?" Abby replied, eyes still fixed across the street. "About the strange people hanging around lately... I think he might be one of them."


    Standing silently on the other side of the road was Aron.


    His eyes weren¡¯t on Cindy. He wasn¡¯t distracted.


    Instead, he was watching all the students pouring out of the school gates, scanning them carefully, searching for an opening.


    Lately, my head¡¯s been filled with all sorts of thoughts, Aron mused. There are so many questions I want to ask the young master... but after everything I¡¯ve failed at, I feel like I don¡¯t have the right.


    Still, today he¡¯s trusted me with an important task. Maybe once things settle down in his life, I can finally do something... something that helps me make peace with it all.


    The task Max had given him was straightforward, but dangerous.


    Find out where Dipter and his group hung out.


    According to Joe, the group held regular meetings on weekends. After each one, the students would split up into large teams, delivering packages to different locations and people.


    Those destinations varied constantly. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sometimes it was nightclubs. Other times, office buildings. And on more than one occasion... even schools.


    The more Max heard about Dipter¡¯s operations, the more it all sounded like just another street gang.


    The key problem, though, was that the meeting place for all the students changed every time. Joe, having distanced himself, was no longer part of these gatherings, which made information scarce.


    There had been a suggestion from the group, why not just go after Dipter directly? Take him out first, then pick off the rest of the group one by one.


    But Max had made his reasoning clear.


    He didn¡¯t just want Dipter.


    He wanted everyone who had been involved in attacking him that day. And because of the situation surrounding the school, he needed to handle it all at once.


    Finally, after hours of quiet surveillance, Aron spotted his target.


    He was looking for someone specific, bandages wrapped tightly around both hands.


    It was Ko.


    Aron tracked the group as they made their way into an arcade. They spent what little coins they had left, loitering and laughing like everything was normal. Eventually, the group slipped into the public restroom together.


    Once inside, they pulled out cigarettes, clearly intending to take over the space and chill there for a while.


    That¡¯s when Aron walked in, silent, precise, and deadly.


    "What the heck?!" Ko shouted, turning with wide eyes as he saw the man in a clean black suit step inside.


    "What¡¯s a businessman doing in the arcade toilet?" he jeered. "You come here to look at our wieners or something?!"


    Aron wasted no time.


    His fist crashed across one of the students¡¯ faces, sending him stumbling. With his other hand, he grabbed the back of the boy¡¯s head by the hair and yanked it down, driving his knee hard into his throat and dropping him to the floor.


    "Those who¡¯ve bullied the young master for so long... I¡¯ve been meaning to do this for a very long time," Aron said calmly. "Also, I was told you might be especially frightened by this."


    He pulled out what looked like a regular pencil.


    But the moment Ko saw it, his face went pale, and in an instant, his leg went weak. A dark stain spread down his pants, and a foul stench filled the air.


    Aron blinked.


    He had no idea why a simple pencil would cause such a reaction. But it had been advice from Joe, who, knowing what Aron had been tasked with, had assured him it would be effective.


    "Please... what do you want?" Ko begged, trembling, all arrogance gone.


    Aron recalled a conversation he¡¯d had with Max just days ago.


    "If I find out the location... aren¡¯t you worried they¡¯ll just run back and tell Dipter?" Aron had asked.


    "That¡¯s fine," Max had answered without hesitation. "I want them to bring everyone they have. So we can deal with them all at once."


    It hadn¡¯t taken Aron long to get the information he needed.


    And with that, he walked out of the arcade bathroom, leaving behind a very broken version of Ko.


    He passed the location directly to Max. The night came to a close. And finally... the weekend arrived.


    It was the day they would act.

 Chapter 75: The Power Of A Real Gang

    Chapter 75: The Power Of A Real GangThe weekend had finally come.


    It was Saturday, the day Max had set for himself. He couldn¡¯t delay it any longer. Things had become too dangerous.


    The way life was now, he couldn¡¯t live it how he wanted. Not how he needed to.


    His body had mostly recovered from what happened at school. The soreness was gone, but he could still feel the spot where he¡¯d been stabbed. His shoulder wasn¡¯t at a hundred percent, but it was good enough for what needed to be done today.


    He slipped into loose-fitting clothes and pulled on a small black sports jacket. He was tired of white, the color reminded him too much of his past.


    I don¡¯t want to wear red either... definitely not my lucky color. And I can¡¯t exactly go out in a school uniform, either.


    The issue was... nearly all of Max¡¯s clothes were white school shirts. So, in the end, he had to wear one underneath the black jacket anyway.


    As he went to leave his room, he found someone already standing just beside the door.


    It might¡¯ve startled anyone else, but Max had expected it.


    "And how long have you been standing out there this time?" Max asked calmly.


    "Just thirty minutes," Aron replied. "I needed to make sure no one was planning anything."


    He stood firm, dressed and ready.


    "I know you changed your mind about hiring that security team," Aron added, "but I still have the others watching over the woman for you."


    "Good. I don¡¯t want something else to worry about," Max said. "But once we¡¯re done... get a proper security team to protect her. As soon as possible."


    The two of them walked down the stairs and headed off into the street, making their way toward the train station.


    What they didn¡¯t know... was that the very person they were trying to protect was just down another street, hiding quietly behind a wall.


    "That¡¯s... that¡¯s the man who was standing across from the school that day!" Abby whispered to herself, her eyes wide in shock. "But... what¡¯s he doing with Max? And where are they going?"


    Max and Aron continued side by side until they reached the area near the gym.


    Steven, as usual, was already outside, wearing his signature red tracksuit.


    When he spotted them, he casually tossed something in their direction.


    Max caught it in one hand.


    "That¡¯s what you wanted, right? Some wraps?" Steven said. "I picked black for you. You know... plain and simple. You know how to use them?" Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max didn¡¯t say a word. He had already unraveled the wraps and was tightening them around his hands.


    In boxing, and most martial arts, fighters wrapped their hands in long cloth wraps. It helped strengthen the wrist so they could punch at full force without injuring themselves. It also offered protection for the knuckles.


    Unlike gloves, there was no padding. If anything... wraps made it easier to hit harder, made it so his fists were more dangerous.


    Once Max finished wrapping his hands, the three of them continued on, making their way to the train station.


    It was a small local station, not particularly busy. Outside, only a handful of people lingered here and there. Even inside, the setup was simple: buy a ticket, walk straight onto the platform. Only two trains operated from this stop.


    Standing just outside the entrance, leaning against the wall, was Joe. And of all things... he was wearing a green tracksuit.


    "HAHAHA!" Steven burst out laughing the moment he saw him. "I can¡¯t believe it! Did you want to get made fun of? You¡¯re actually wearing green! Trying to embrace your inner Green Ranger for today or what?"


    "Shut up!" Joe snapped, his face turning red. "My mum washed all my clothes for some reason, this was the only thing I had that was clean!"


    "Oh, please," he added, pointing a finger. "You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you? Since all you own is that one ratty tracksuit. Do you even have the money to clean that thing?!"


    The two of them were bickering as usual, which was honestly impressive considering how they managed to train together at all.


    "It¡¯s good the two of you are this energetic," Max said, stepping forward. "I wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d show up today, knowing who we¡¯re going up against."


    He paused, his voice lowering slightly.


    "If we fail... you might never have another peaceful day at school again."


    Joe folded his arms.


    "It¡¯s okay... I guess I¡¯ll just have to find out what it¡¯s like being on the other end."


    All of them walked inside the train station and waited near the ticketing area. Before long, the train pulled up, and a few passengers stepped off.


    But the second the group of ten appeared, moving together in a tight, solid line, everyone else turned their heads.


    Hands in pockets, eyes forward, they looked like a unit. Like a crew. And they stood out like a sore thumb.


    Leading them, of course, was Wolf.


    "It¡¯s good to see you¡¯re here," Wolf said with a smirk. "I was starting to think our payday might just be yanking our chain."


    There were ten of them in total. With Max¡¯s four, that made fourteen. They¡¯d be going up against at least fifty people, maybe even more.


    "So, are you ready for today?" Wolf asked. "You said these guys were serious, right? That they use weapons?"


    "Wait, where are your weapons?" Joe asked, glancing at the group.


    "You think we can just hop on a train into a new town carrying blades and bats?" Wolf scoffed. "Don¡¯t be stupid."


    "Anyway," he continued, "what about you? You need protection in all this? ¡¯Cause if something happens to you... how the hell are we supposed to get paid?"


    "If you¡¯re as good as you think you are," Max said, turning his head with a confident glance, "then it¡¯ll all work out, right?"


    Without waiting for a reply, he turned back around and began walking.


    Aron stepped in beside him, silent and focused. The rest of the group followed close behind, moving in unison.


    They were heading to the location where Dipter was expected to be.


    Even if we¡¯re outnumbered, Max thought, it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s time to show Dipter... how a real gang operates.

 Chapter 76: A New Legend

    Chapter 76: A New LegendDipter had gathered his group as usual for the weekend. But today, it wasn¡¯t just any weekend.


    This day was important to him for two major reasons.


    First, it was the day the group made most of their income, delivering packages on behalf of another individual. And second, today was different. They wouldn¡¯t just be the middlemen.


    Today, they were making the deliveries. They were collecting the money directly. Which meant, nothing could go wrong.


    The meeting place had already been sent out to all the students. It was a wide, rectangular plot of land that had once been marked for development. But so far, no construction had started.


    The ground was cleared, flattened, nothing but broken dirt and space. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was perfect for a gathering.


    A tall barrier had been set up around the outside to keep people from wandering in, making it an ideal hideaway for a large group.


    Along with Dipter, over sixty students had gathered. Many carried backpacks, and several of those bags were filled with weapons, just in case.


    They couldn¡¯t walk around in broad daylight holding bats, iron pipes, or knives, but they all knew... when it came time to act, things could get messy.


    At the front of the group stood the usual three: Dipter in the center, Jay on one side, and Snide on the other.


    "Alright," Dipter said, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. "Behind me are today¡¯s package drops."


    He gestured to several tied-up sports bags, all black in color, laid out neatly behind him.


    "It¡¯s important that everything gets delivered," Dipter said, his voice sharp, commanding attention. "And secondly, that you receive payment. Some of these customers will do whatever they can to get out of paying, so be ready to get your hands dirty."


    Some of the students grinned, giggling as if they were hoping things would get messy.


    "And remember," Dipter continued, scanning the group, "there¡¯s a chance people have gotten wind of our operation. So all of you, stay alert."


    The students began forming teams, organizing themselves for the drop-offs. Their energy was high, almost too eager.


    At the same time, the leaders of each class were sent the specific location details. They would be the only ones who knew where their drop points were, each acting as the leader for their assigned group.


    Just as Dipter turned around to begin handing over the bags, one of the students hesitantly approached him.


    "Dipter... are you sure about this?"


    "Ko, of course I am," Dipter said, not even turning to face him at first.


    "But aren¡¯t you worried?" Ko asked, voice shaky. "That guy, he forced the location out of me. And you haven¡¯t changed it or anything... they could be planning to ambush us!"


    Dipter turned, slowly placing a firm hand on Ko¡¯s shoulder, squeezing hard.


    "You did the right thing. You came to me after it happened, and because of that, I didn¡¯t punish you for squealing, right?" Dipter said with a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. "And thankfully, I¡¯m one of the few people with a brain."


    He leaned in just a little closer.


    "So the only place you could¡¯ve told them about... was this place."


    "Which is why I called in everyone today," Dipter said, his grip still tight on Ko¡¯s shoulder. "And told them to be extraprepared."


    When Ko had described the man who attacked them, Dipter couldn¡¯t quite figure out who it might¡¯ve been.


    There were possibilities.


    Maybe their client had finally hired someone competent, someone worthwhile, to track them down. Maybe the client had pissed off the wrong person, and now that person wanted revenge.


    Or... maybe someone had caught wind that Dipter was taking over operations and thought he¡¯d be an easy target.


    They¡¯re about to learn how wrong they are, Dipter thought.


    "Alright. Now that everyone¡¯s ready," he shouted, turning to the group, "head out!"


    The students spun on their heels and started moving.


    But they only took a few steps, before coming to a halt.


    "Well, well, this is a lot bigger than I expected."


    The voice was casual, amused.


    Standing just beyond the broken gap in the wall surrounding the site was a man with wild orange hair. He stepped in confidently, a smirk stretched across his face like he had nothing to fear, even while facing down a crowd of over sixty students.


    As he walked in, nine more people entered behind him, every one of them carrying the same confident energy.


    "Freakin¡¯ hell," one of the women muttered. "When they said we¡¯d be taking on high schoolers... this is not what I pictured."


    "Right?" another man added. "Kids these days are a real piece of sh*t. I guess this is what happens when no one¡¯s around to keep ¡¯em in line anymore."


    Dipter¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    Based on how they were dressed¡ªand the way they carried themselves¡ªthese people weren¡¯t here to chat. They were here to cause trouble.


    "Do you recognize them?" Snide asked, keeping close to his side.


    "I¡¯ve got no idea," Dipter replied as he stepped forward, cutting his way through the crowd of students.


    He moved straight toward Ko.


    "Is this the guy who attacked you?" Dipter asked.


    Ko quickly shook his head.


    "No... I¡¯ve never seen him before."


    Finally reaching the front of the group, Dipter came to a halt and locked eyes with the man standing confidently just ahead.


    It was Wolf, from the Pit.


    "For someone who knew about us," Dipter said, "and knew exactly what we were about to do... you only brought ten people? You sure are brave."


    "Hah, brave?" Wolf replied with a shrug. "I doubt that. See, in my world, we hear stories, legends, even, about one man taking on a hundred. And what¡¯s here? Sixty of you? Maybe fifty?"


    He glanced around lazily.


    "If there were more of you... maybe I¡¯d try breaking the record. But I guess this¡¯ll have to do."


    Dipter was frowning at first, his expression hard. But then his scowl twisted into something else.


    A smirk.


    Then laughter.


    "Haha... I¡¯ve met plenty of people like you," Dipter said. "Always underestimating us just because we¡¯re high schoolers. So let me guess, you¡¯re here to stop our business, maybe even take it over?"


    He leaned slightly forward, grin growing wider.


    "Because you think we¡¯re an easy target... right?"


    "Oh, what?" Wolf replied with a smirk. "Now I get it, you¡¯re one of those guys. Think you¡¯re real clever, huh? Look, I have no clue what you people are actually doing here. For all I know, you could be ranking who¡¯s the hottest in school or something."


    He tossed a hand lazily in the air.


    "I¡¯m just here because I¡¯m getting paid. As for why I¡¯m here? You might wanna ask them yourself."


    Walking through the gap in the wall, another figure stepped into view, Aron, calm and unreadable as ever.


    "That¡¯s him!" Ko suddenly shouted, his voice panicked. "That¡¯s the guy who attacked me!"


    Ko¡¯s finger trembled midair as he pointed, until he saw who came in right after Aron.


    The moment froze.


    Every student, every class leader, everyone turned to look.


    And Ko¡¯s hand dropped to his side, his lips barely able to form the word.


    "...Max..."


    Max stepped forward, walking with steady purpose. On either side of him were Steven and Joe, both quiet, focused, backs straight.


    Max stopped at the front, eyes scanning the entire crowd.


    And then, with a voice that cut through the silence like a blade, he spoke:


    "You should¡¯ve left me alone... when you had the chance."

 Chapter 77: The Making Of A Legend

    Chapter 77: The Making Of A LegendWhen Max stood there, every student stared in disbelief, for multiple reasons.


    The person they had bullied, the one they had ganged up on not long ago... had come back.


    But it wasn¡¯t just that he¡¯d returned, he hadn¡¯t come back alone.


    The same boy they thought was powerless... how had he gathered people like this around him? How had he convinced them to fight on his behalf, especially given how bad the odds looked?


    "Haha... it¡¯s you?" Dipter said, placing a hand on his forehead. "This whole time I was worried someone dangerous might show up, and it¡¯s actually you? This ain¡¯t¡ª"


    But before he could finish, a thought flashed through his mind.


    Why?


    Why had their client insisted on keeping Max down? On making sure he never got back up?


    Now, seeing Max standing with allies by his side, strong ones, Dipter started to wonder if this was what they¡¯d been afraid of all along.


    "Dipter," Max began, voice calm but laced with venom, "you¡¯re the one who made my life at school a living hell."


    He hadn¡¯t experienced more than a few days of it, but he remembered what it felt like. And he could only imagine what the real Max had gone through, day in and day out.


    "You¡¯re the one who controls the entire school. The one who ordered everyone to attack me. And worst of all... you played a part in Sam¡¯s death."


    Max¡¯s fists clenched at his sides.


    "It didn¡¯t have to happen. Things didn¡¯t have to go this way."


    "But after everything that¡¯s happened, someone has to punish you," Max said, pointing a finger at himself. "And I guess now¡ªthat falls to me."


    It was the first time Max had actually seen Dipter in person¡ªor at least, the new version of Max. He hadn¡¯t even spoken a single word to the one responsible for turning his life into chaos.


    But he didn¡¯t need to.


    He felt it, the rage buried deep within the original Max¡¯s soul. A fury that burned with every memory, every bruise, every moment stolen from him.


    "You know," Dipter replied, smirking, "it¡¯s kinda ironic. You gathered all these people here thinking you could dosomething." S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He chuckled, but his eyes didn¡¯t smile.


    "I told the others we were finally gonna leave you alone. But I also said... if you ever tried something again, I¡¯d be the one to finish you."


    Dipter raised his hand, and pointed it straight at Max.


    "Get them!"


    In an instant, the students unzipped the bags slung across their backs, pulling out the hidden weapons stored inside. Bats, chains, iron pipes, they were ready.


    And so were the members of the Pit.


    Wolf didn¡¯t wait. He charged ahead, faster than the rest, launching himself into the air and slamming his knee straight into a student¡¯s face.


    CRACK!


    "Ohhh, a cold crunch, I like the sound of that!" Wolf grinned as he landed and immediately threw himself back into the fray, hitting anyone he could see.


    There was no style. No technique.


    Wolf fought like a storm, wild, unpredictable, and dangerous, just swinging and striking at everything that moved.


    Due to the overwhelming number of students, it didn¡¯t take long for the bulk of them to break through the chaos, closing in fast on Max.


    But getting to him wouldn¡¯t be so easy.


    Steven raised both fists and immediately began hammering students in the face. He ducked, weaved, and struck again, his form tight, professional, and relentless.


    Joe wasn¡¯t far behind him, copying his movements as best he could, throwing his own fists into the fray.


    That was, until Ko stepped forward and aimed a brutal kick right at Joe¡¯s thigh.


    "Hey, traitor!" Ko shouted. "Don¡¯t think I forgot what you did last time!"


    "Crap... last time Ko kicked my head in!" Joe panicked, backing up. "Well... at least I get to pay him back this time."


    Meanwhile, Aron remained close to Max¡¯s side.


    He had already drawn his baton and was striking down anyone who got within reach. His movements were fast, precise, and compact, while the students came at him with wild, messy swings.


    "Hmph... looks like, somehow, he¡¯s managed to gather somewhat decent people," Dipter muttered from the back as he observed the fight. "We need to make sure there are still people left to make today¡¯s deliveries. You two, get moving."


    Back on the front lines, Steven was still pummeling students, fist after fist landing clean. But just as he reeled back for another punch, he noticed something.


    A large arm shot up, blocking the hit.


    And then, someone stepped in front of the attack entirely.


    Steven was taken aback, the person he¡¯d just hit didn¡¯t budge an inch.


    "Haha, aren¡¯t you a bit big to be a student?" Steven asked, blinking in surprise.


    "Jay!" some of the other students called out.


    Jay had been watching the chaos unfold and noticed that Steven, more than anyone, was causing serious trouble. So he stepped in, ready to put a stop to it.


    While that was taking place, Aron had pushed further and further away from Max. It wasn¡¯t by choice, but by necessity.


    Fighting too close to Max meant others might slip through and reach him. Aron needed to press forward, to push the line back, before anyone got near.


    As he readied another swing, something changed.


    Aron sensed it, something sharp cutting through the air.


    He raised his baton and deflected the object, sending it clattering to the ground.


    A knife.


    "Whoa," a voice called out, "I threw that pretty hard."


    It was Snide.


    He stepped forward with a crooked grin, two more knives now gleaming in his hands.


    "Seems like you like weapons," Snide said. "Well... same here."


    Aron glanced around, and saw he was now surrounded from behind as well.


    But the deep concern on his face wasn¡¯t because of Snide.


    It was because he could no longer get back to Max.


    "Hey, Wolf," one of the Pit members called out. "Looks like the kid¡¯s friends are a little too busy right now. Should we head back and help him out? If he gets beat... how are we gonna get our money?"


    Wolf looked over, and sure enough, he saw a student had spotted Max and was now sprinting straight toward him.


    "Nah, leave him be," Wolf replied with a smirk. "Y¡¯know, if we protect him at just the right moment¡ªwhen he needs it most, we can charge him extra."


    The student closed in fast, raising his bat high and swinging it down with full force.


    With a simple step to the side, Max avoided the strike. The bat slammed uselessly into the ground.


    Max tensed his fist, planted his foot firmly on the dirt, and with a large twist, putting his whole body into it, he drove his punch straight into the student¡¯s face.


    CRACK!


    The sound of a nose breaking echoed, and the student collapsed flat on his back.


    "Dipter... I¡¯m saving you for my own hands," Max muttered, his voice low and cold, as he started walking forward.


    After seeing what Max had just done, Wolf¡¯s whole demeanour changed as his eyes widened.


    "I can feel it...today, a legend will be born!"

 Chapter 78: Suck A Duck!

    Chapter 78: Suck A Duck!"Suck a duck sideways," Sandra muttered. She was fighting relatively close to Wolf and had been keeping an eye on Max, for a number of reasons. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Now she had just seen him take down one of the students with a single punch.


    Max wasn¡¯t big. He didn¡¯t seem to have a lot of muscle. And yet, he¡¯d moved with absolute confidence, using the momentum of the charging student to land a perfect strike.


    Either Max was a natural-born fighter, or he¡¯d done this plenty of times before.


    "Right, right, you could fight all along, huh?" Dipter said, smirking. "I remember seeing the videos. The others weren¡¯t wrong, seeing it in person is way different. Still, our positions aren¡¯t the same, Max. So come and get me if you can!"


    He raised his hands, and several students immediately began running toward Max.


    All the others were tied up in their own chaos, no one could step in to help.


    But Max didn¡¯t need them.


    As the first student came charging at him, Max lifted his leg and drove a powerful kick into his gut, winding him completely.


    The student¡¯s crumpled body blocked the path of the others, giving Max a second to breathe, just in time to spot another attacker flanking from the side.


    Max turned and swung, his fist slamming hard into the student¡¯s face.


    The student held onto a bat, but Max¡¯s punch had loosened his grip. As the bat swung through the air, Max caught it without hesitation and swung it hard, cracking it across another student¡¯s face, his teeth clattered onto the floor like spilled dice.


    Another rushed in with a knife, but Max didn¡¯t even flinch, he hurled the bat straight at his face.


    The student dodged just barely, stepping to the side, only to feel a sharp blow strike his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife.


    Before he could react, Max grabbed the back of his head and drove his knee straight into the student¡¯s nose.


    Blood splattered, but Max wasn¡¯t finished. He couldn¡¯t be finished. These people couldn¡¯t be allowed to get back up, not like last time.


    So Max yanked the student down again and again, slamming his knee into the student¡¯s face, once, twice, three, four times, before finally hurling him into the crowd approaching from behind.


    With three down in quick succession, Max pressed forward, step by step, his eyes locked on Dipter, despite the growing wave of students trying to block his path.


    Some of those who had been fighting others turned toward Max now, realizing the tide of the fight was shifting.


    And just then, Wolf leapt from his spot, grabbing one student by the back of the head and slamming it into the ground.


    "Sneak attacks like that are a no-no in my book." Wolf charged toward another student, and when the student swung a fist, he leaned back and quickly snapped forward like a snake, slapping both sides of the student¡¯s head.


    When Wolf looked up, the smile on his face remained as he saw the ruthless Max continue to move ahead.


    He had locked one of the student¡¯s arms right beneath his armpit, and then punched at the throat again and again, before twisting his own body, breaking the shoulder socket, and then kicking the student away.


    ¡¯He¡¯s ruthless... that quiet kid, having gathered all of these adults around him... What did they do?!¡¯ Wolf thought. ¡¯Did these kids even know what type of beast they were going up against?¡¯


    At the same time, as Dipter watched Max, the smile on his face had disappeared.


    In his mind, there was a large difference between the two of them. He had climbed to the position of head of the school, and now he was going to surpass regular high school delinquency.


    He was going to make his own power match those of the street-level gangs. How could just one student try to get in his way after all of this time?


    Fueled with anger, Dipter wasn¡¯t looking at the situation around him. One of the Pit members had gotten relatively close.


    He head rushed in and seeing Dipter he had ran toward him, charging right at him.


    Dipter still didn¡¯t take his eyes off Max, and when the screaming man got close enough, Dipter spun his body and then let out a side kick.


    It dug deep into the Pit member¡¯s stomach, making saliva spray from his mouth. He was chucked rolling across the floor, finding it hard to breathe, and when he finally could, he began throwing up.


    "Crap... make sure the other members are alright, some of these guys got knives and are a bit too trigger-happy," Wolf said, as he rushed over to his fellow member along with Sandra.


    Looking over at Dipter, Wolf had seen the whole movement that had taken place.


    ¡¯Although most of them seem useless, he actually seems competent. I would have liked to have fought him myself, but that wasn¡¯t part of the job, right? You told me to just make sure you could get to him, so I¡¯ll just stay, and watch,¡¯ Wolf thought.


    Wolf gestured with his hands, to make sure no one got close to the two of them with the other members.


    Because finally, Max had reached his position, where he was now only a few meters away from Dipter.


    "I wanted to ask you... were you the one that ordered all of this?" Max asked. "Were you the one that asked Ko to do all of those things to both of us?"


    "F*ck me!" Dipter said. "This is why you¡¯ve gone this far, this is why you¡¯ve gone against me. Not because of money, not because of fame, or to build a legacy, but because of a little teasing!"


    "Shut up!" Max snapped. "Sam... Sam died because of the actions you took. You want to play these games, but you should at least know the bodies you¡¯re walking over to get to where you want to be.


    "And everybody you take care of... there is someone else that cares for them. This is the consequence of your actions!"


    Dipter started to laugh.


    "You have no idea why we did what we did, right?" Dipter said. "But I bet you think there was some reason behind it... maybe that¡¯s true with your case, but did you think that Sam kid was the first one? You think it¡¯s the first time something like this has happened? There have been plenty of kids that have died.


    "In this world, we all play by the same rules, we¡¯re all on the same level. It doesn¡¯t matter if they disappear or not."


    "Alright." Max said as he pulled his fist in front of his face, all his fingers extended, and then gripped down tight. "If that¡¯s your view, then you can¡¯t complain about what¡¯s going to happen to you next."

 Chapter 79: Ranked Fighters

    Chapter 79: Ranked FightersThe Pit members and Wolf were having next to no trouble dealing with the students. They had to be a bit more careful due to the equipment being used, but the students were clearly rough around the edges when it came to actual combat.


    At certain moments, the weapons turned out to be more of a hindrance than a help, with a noticeable bit of hesitation accompanying each swing.


    And then there was Wolf himself. He could sense the exact moment any of his members were in trouble, and his presence alone was enough to make an approaching group of students back off.


    He stood still for a moment, analyzing the situation with sharp eyes, his focus cutting straight through the crowd of students.


    "Hmm... all of these students, they¡¯re F-ranks. I was hoping for E-ranks so our people could get a bit more experience," Wolf muttered under his breath.


    "There you go again, with your game talk," Sandra said, casually kicking a student in the back of the face. "You know, if there wasn¡¯t some substance to it, I¡¯d say you were completely crazy. So go on, tell me, which ones have caught your eye?"


    The Pit was a group that specialized in fighting-based jobs, and part of Wolf¡¯s role as leader was identifying which opponents were worth paying attention to.


    That way, he could analyze which ones his people should take on, and which ones he needed to deal with personally. To do that, he¡¯d developed a system. A system that was near perfect. A system that, so far, had never failed him.


    Just like in a game, he would rank his opponents using letters. Each person would have an overall ranking, but other factors, like speed, strength, or technique, might receive separate ratings.


    For the general public, the kind of people who had never been in a fight in their lives, he gave them a rank of U. That stood for Unrankable.


    As for the students they were up against now, he had assigned them an F rank, the lowest possible ranking he could think of.


    Most of the Pit members, he would classify as D-rank fighters. A few of them maybe dipped into E-rank territory. That was why they weren¡¯t having any trouble facing off against the students.


    However, there were a few among the students who caught his attention. Ones he determined were above F rank.


    "The one fighting the kid in the green tracksuit," Wolf said quietly.


    The person he was referring to was Joe, who was going up against Ko.


    Ko was relentless, landing hard kicks that struck Joe in the legs every time. Somehow, Joe managed to stay standing, though he looked like he was barely holding it together. He kept throwing punches, but none of them were landing.


    "His opponent¡¯s an E-rank. So, a little better than the others... but the green one?"


    Still getting hammered by the kicks, Joe suddenly raised both of his hands.


    "Ko, you damn fool! The number of times I had to laugh at your stupid jokes!"


    Joe charged forward.


    Ko went to deliver another powerful kick, but because of Joe¡¯s sudden push forward, he couldn¡¯t connect at the full force he¡¯d intended.


    Joe then took a swing and nailed Ko clean on the chin. It wasn¡¯t just a lucky hit, he followed up instantly, his fists flying as flashes of his training sessions with Steven surged in his mind. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Money... money... money! In Joe¡¯s eyes, Ko¡¯s head had transformed into Mit¡¯s, and he unleashed hit after hit without holding back. When he finally stopped, Ko dropped to the ground, completely unconscious.


    "The thing is, the green kid is ranked E as well. Looks like he¡¯s only just reached that level though, and his opponent underestimated him way too much," Wolf said with a smile. "As for the other delinquents you need to worry about..."


    "There¡¯s that guy with the knives. The way he handles them is no joke. I¡¯d rank him a D."


    The person Wolf was talking about was Snide.


    "And as for the other big student... I¡¯ve got a feeling he¡¯s a Rank C. That one¡¯s more based on my intuition."


    Sandra raised an eyebrow. She was honestly impressed. She knew just how accurate Wolf¡¯s ranking system was. So if he was giving students these kinds of rankings, especially as high as a C, it meant they were on par with some of the street gang members they¡¯d fought before.


    "And what about their leader? The one our client¡¯s about to face? And the ones who are facing each other now?" Sandra asked.


    Dipter and Max still appeared locked in an intense stare-down, stuck in what looked like a silent conversation.


    He noticed Steven and Jay both poised to strike at any second, but so far, the only real clash happening was between Snide and Aron.


    Aron was using the baton, skillfully knocking away the two daggers flying at him from either side.


    He was blocking them well, but Snide was just as fast. Then, without warning, Snide hurled one of the knives straight at him.


    Aron shifted to the side, letting the blade sail past, and immediately returned to fending off the incoming barrage.


    "It¡¯s hard to say," Wolf answered, eyes still locked on the fight. "I can¡¯t evaluate them properly if I haven¡¯t seen them go all out. If we¡¯re talking about Dipter... he feels like a Rank B, which is why Max might have a tough time taking him down."


    "Right, and since you rank yourself as a Rank A, I guess that means you¡¯d have no trouble dealing with that kid?" Sandra replied, rolling her eyes.


    "Of course," Wolf said with a smirk. "But there¡¯s one person I can¡¯t get a read on at all, no matter how hard I try... and it¡¯s him."


    Wolf was carefully watching the ongoing battle between Snide and Aron.


    Aron was moving fast, smashing anything that got near him while also keeping up with Snide¡¯s relentless onslaught.


    "Come on! Come on!" Snide shouted. "Let me land a perfect hit! I need another one, just like the one I got on Max!"


    As soon as those words left Snide¡¯s mouth, Aron remembered walking behind Max up the stairs... and the bloodstain he¡¯d seen on Max¡¯s shoulder.


    Right then, Snide threw another knife toward Aron. He moved to the side to avoid it, but this time, he held out his hand and caught the handle mid-air.


    His eyes were filled with fury as he locked his gaze directly onto Snide.


    "You... were the one that hurt him?" Aron asked.


    The smile on Wolf¡¯s face crept wider as he watched the scene unfold. Now he was starting to get a clearer picture.


    "I knew it... I knew something was up. That one... that one is an S-class."

 Chapter 80: Rank Up!

    Chapter 80: Rank Up!Failure. Failure. And failure again. So many times, Aron had failed to protect Max, to do the one thing he had sworn to do.


    There were plenty of reasons behind it. Part of it was Max himself, always stepping in and stopping Aron from acting. But for the first time, Max had asked for his help.


    He was here now to do just that, to help Max, and to punish those who had punished him. Those who had hurt him. Those who had drawn his blood.


    It had been hard for Aron to connect these high school students with Max¡¯s pain, until he heard it come straight from one of their mouths.


    His vision tunneled as rage built up inside him. Another knife was thrown his way, and without thinking, he caught it midair, right by the handle.


    "Oh?" Snide let out a nervous laugh. "Lucky catch."


    Aron started walking forward, and more students rushed in to stop him. One of them had a bike chain in hand and lashed it out like a whip.


    Aron quickly swung his baton, twisting it around the chain, then gave it a sudden pull. The force yanked the chain right out of the student¡¯s grip.


    With a swift flick, Aron flung the bike chain at another student coming at him.


    The next one tried a kick, but Aron moved fast, dodging the attack, slicing the student¡¯s hand to make him drop his weapon, then landing a sharp kick from behind before continuing his advance toward Snide.


    Snide could feel his own heartbeat pounding faster. He didn¡¯t know what it was, just moments ago, he¡¯d been attacking this man relentlessly, without even a hint of fear. So why was it different now?


    Panic surged through him, and Snide lunged forward. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Die!" he screamed, swinging both knives from either side.


    Aron kept advancing, but in one swift motion, he stepped aside and used one of Snide¡¯s own knives to slash his arm.


    He quickly rolled beneath Snide¡¯s swing, kicked him hard in the legs, then slashed his other hand.


    Snide couldn¡¯t keep up. He didn¡¯t even understand what was happening anymore. All he could feel were his clothes tearing, his skin splitting.


    Before he knew it, his hands had been slammed by a fist or a leg, he couldn¡¯t even tell which, and the knives clattered to the ground. Then, one of the blades was driven deep into his shoulder.


    "This is the pain that Max had to suffer!" Aron growled. "I... will protect him. From scum like you."


    Aron gripped the knife again, ready to bring it down into Snide a second time, until a strong arm suddenly locked around his elbow and pulled him back.


    His arms were tangled with someone else¡¯s, someone strong enough to stop him cold.


    "Don¡¯t do that," Wolf said with a calm smile.


    He had been watching Aron closely the entire time, ready to step in if something like this happened.


    "I¡¯m scum, and if it were me, I¡¯d do it. But for you? If you go that far against a high schooler, you¡¯ll have a hard time protecting him from a jail cell," Wolf commented.


    The words cut through Aron¡¯s fury, pulling him slightly out of his rage. He looked down and finally realized what he had been about to do.


    "Thank you..." Aron muttered.


    "Don¡¯t worry about it. But remember, you owe me one. And having a favor from an S-rank like you? That¡¯ll come in handy."


    Elsewhere, two more were going toe-to-toe, and they were quite literally fighting head-to-head.


    Steven was slamming powerful punches straight into the side and stomach of Jay, one of the largest students. His fists landed hard, and even Steven¡¯s own knuckles were starting to ache.


    Then, Jay would swing in return, but Steven was quick, always stepping back just in time to dodge.


    "What¡¯s wrong?!" Steven shouted. "I can tell... I can tell your heart¡¯s not in this! You¡¯re grabbing at me half-heartedly!"


    As more hits came his way, Jay braced himself, taking more blows to the side. Though Steven was skilled and fast, able to read Jay¡¯s movements before they even happened, he was right.


    Jay was struggling to put his heart into the fight. Struggling to go all out against someone he had no real reason to fight.


    "Then why are you even standing in front of me?!" Steven roared as he launched a straight punch packed with every ounce of his strength.


    Jay lifted both of his arms and blocked the hit, but his forearms were going numb, they were hurting.


    "ARGHH!" Jay shouted as he charged forward and ran straight in. It caught Steven by surprise when Jay wrapped his arms around his waist.


    "I do have a reason! How else am I, how else is a kid my age, supposed to make money?!" Jay yelled, lifting Steven clean off the ground, both of his feet dangling in the air.


    This kid... he¡¯s freaking strong! Steven thought. But even in the air, even in this situation, he knew he had to think fast.


    His arms were still free. That was Jay¡¯s mistake.


    Twisting his body as much as he could while being held around the waist, Steven threw his fist toward the side of Jay¡¯s face, right under the ear.


    The first hit didn¡¯t do much. Jay was already trying to slam Steven to the ground.


    Steven swung again, and this time, just as Jay started to fall, the hit connected. But Jay still didn¡¯t let go.


    The two of them crashed to the ground, Steven¡¯s back slamming hard against the floor.


    As the dust settled, Steven stared at Jay, who was groaning and clearly hurt. He looked like he couldn¡¯t fight anymore, and Steven slowly pushed his way out of the hold.


    "That¡¯s one scary, powerful kid... but sorry, you¡¯re not the only one who needs to earn money," Steven muttered, already scanning for the next student that needed dealing with.


    Now though, they were on the back foot. Countless students had already been beaten, they were hurt, while their opponents were still going strong.


    It made them more hesitant to go in for the attack. There was only one person they could rely on now, and that was Dipter.


    "COME ON!" Dipter shouted. "I thought you might¡¯ve been able to do something!"


    Max had charged in not long ago, and when he did, a strong kick had been delivered straight to his head. His lip was busted, and blood was dripping down his face.


    Max wiped it away and dropped back into a fighting stance.


    Aron, seeing this, almost slipped into tunnel vision again.


    "Wait!" Wolf said, holding a hand out. "Sure, you can help him out of that situation right now, but will that actually help him? Are you always going to be there, right by his side, in every moment when he needs saving?"


    "If you really want to help him, it¡¯s better to let him go. Because it¡¯s in situations like this... that people rank up," Wolf added, his eyes almost smiling as he spoke.

 Chapter 81: No Hesistaion

    Chapter 81: No HesistaionWhen Max and Dipter squared up, thankfully the Pit members were doing a good job of keeping the other students out of the fight.


    Which meant the two of them could finally face each other one-on-one, without distractions, without interference.


    Max moved in to fight, aiming to strike, and just as he got within range, Dipter lifted his leg. It was a fast kick.


    Max¡¯s body, he thought it could react in time. But as he raised his arm, a twitch of pain shot through his shoulder, the same shoulder that had betrayed him before. Dipter¡¯s leg crashed straight into his face, splitting his lip.


    He had to step back and re-evaluate. That kick was no joke. If he were in his old body, he might¡¯ve been able to power through it. But from that single hit, his head was already spinning.


    My shoulder¡¯s still not a hundred percent, and even if I blocked that kick, it would¡¯ve hurt, Max thought. I¡¯m not in my old body. I can¡¯t just brute force my way through this.


    "What, did you think it¡¯d be the same?" Dipter said, sneering. "I¡¯ve met a lot of guys like you. Naturally good at fighting. So they think they¡¯re special, until they meet me."


    Now Dipter was the one charging forward, and once again he went for a head kick. Max quickly ducked and moved, keeping out of range, narrowly avoiding the blow.


    Then, without warning, Dipter crossed his feet, spun, and kicked Max hard in the stomach with the side of his leg.


    It was the same devastating kick that had taken one of the Pit members completely out of the fight.


    Immediately, Max doubled over, pain flooding through his body.


    Damn... I can¡¯t even remember the last time I was in this much pain. Not even when I got stabbed did it hurt this bad!


    Through blurred vision, Max saw Dipter¡¯s leg lift high into the air, his heel coming down fast.


    Max quickly rolled out of the way and watched as the heel crashed into the ground, leaving a deep imprint in the floor.


    These kids... was anyone this strong back when I was their age? Max thought. But he shook his head. Admiring Dipter wasn¡¯t going to get him out of this situation.


    Max kept moving, but it was getting hard to breathe. Dipter stayed on him relentlessly, throwing out stylish, powerful kicks, even spinning in the air like a whirlwind.


    This time, the kick came from the opposite side, and Max lifted his arm to block it. Even so, the force was too strong, he stumbled down onto one leg, forced to the side.


    Wolf was still watching everything, and now... he was starting to have second thoughts.


    If I were to evaluate that Max kid, I¡¯d say he¡¯s an E-ranked fighter... but there¡¯s a difference between him and someone like Joe. There¡¯s no hesitation in his movements, he can see the path to victory. In this fight, I thought he¡¯d be pushed to his limits and evolve into a D-rank... but this fight, it might just be too much for him! Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max got up, he forced himself to, just like he had so many times before. As he stood to his feet, he continued dodging Dipter¡¯s rapid kicks.


    The kid¡¯s right... I never actually learned how to fight properly. I dabbled in everything, here and there, never focusing on one style. I was just talented, and that¡¯s what got me to the top.


    So far, the only thing I¡¯ve been able to rely on is experience, and that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to have to count on now.


    With that thought, Max started to unravel one of the wraps on his hand. He¡¯d been watching Dipter closely, and because things had been going so well for him, Dipter¡¯s movements had started getting flashier.


    As Max closed the distance, Dipter spun again and leapt into the air to deliver another kick, but this time, the kick was met with Max whipping off his jacket and hurling it straight into Dipter¡¯s face.


    The jacket covered him, and Dipter felt his kick hit nothing but air. Right after, he felt a heavy thud crash into his body¡ªhe¡¯d been tackled at the legs.


    "All those fancy moves make it easy to hit you off balance!" Max shouted as he brought Dipter down to the ground.


    He mounted him, and without wasting a second, drove his fist deep into Dipter¡¯s stomach, winding him. Then, Max didn¡¯t let up, he punched Dipter in the face again and again.


    Dipter was dazed, stunned by the sudden onslaught, and shocked that after taking so many hits, Max still had this much fight in him.


    I¡¯m only going to have the advantage for a short while. I have to take him out while I can! Max thought, quickly tying the loosened wrap around Dipter¡¯s neck before rolling to the side.


    He repositioned himself so he was on the ground, one leg pressed firmly against Dipter¡¯s back, pulling both ends of the wrap.


    He was strangling Dipter.


    At first, Dipter kicked backward in a panic, but his strikes missed, and Max only pulled harder.


    No hesitation... Wolf thought to himself.


    The fear, the thought that you might actually kill someone, it usually ran through a person¡¯s head. But not for this Max.


    Max pulled even harder as Dipter struggled. His body weakened... and finally, Max let go.


    Max got up from the floor and ran forward, kicking Dipter hard in the back of the head. He didn¡¯t care if Dipter got a concussion or not.


    This was someone who took pleasure, who felt no sorrow, in the death of children.


    Right after, Max stepped up to Dipter and slammed his foot down onto his ankle. Then again. And again. He lifted his foot and drove it into the same spot, making sure Dipter wouldn¡¯t be using those fancy kicks anytime soon.


    Max was huffing and puffing, breath heavy as Dipter lay crumpled on the ground, but he wasn¡¯t finished yet.


    He walked over and grabbed Dipter by the shirt, lifting his upper half and locking eyes with him.


    "People like you... eventually get what¡¯s coming to them, one way or another," Max said. "I was no different. I¡¯m just the one delivering it to you. But I know it doesn¡¯t end with you. Tell me!" Max shouted, shaking Dipter. "Tell me who ordered you to do this! Who¡¯s behind all of it?!"

 Chapter 82: The One Behind it!

    Chapter 82: The One Behind it!It was clear that the fight was over for Dipter and his crew of delinquents he had managed to build up, but this wasn¡¯t just some sort of revenge that Max was aiming to seek. There was a true reason why he had done this, to find out the truth.


    "Dipter, you¡¯ve lost this. Now answer me!" Max said as he pulled on Dipter¡¯s shirt even higher, lifting him just a bit more off the ground.


    Dipter could tell by the condition of his ankle that he couldn¡¯t fight anymore. He wasn¡¯t even sure if he would be able to walk himself out of here if he tried. And yet, he still had a smile on his face, even now, even after everything.


    "Haha... and if I tell you, what would be the point? You¡¯re just going to hit me again, right?" Dipter said, letting out a shaky breath.


    Max then dropped Dipter back onto the ground and lifted up his hand. He gripped his entire finger tightly in that moment, his eyes fixed with a cold stare.


    "You¡¯re right..." Max said, and then pulled down hard, breaking and cracking it in a single motion. "It¡¯s easy for you right now. All you have to do is give me a name, and you don¡¯t have to suffer anymore."


    "Do you think whoever hired you to do all of this would go through all of this for you? Your loyalty is not rewarded."


    Max was already going for another finger, until he heard Dipter shout.


    "Wait!" Dipter said, managing to just pull his arm out to stop him. "It¡¯s not loyalty, I couldn¡¯t give a crap about that guy. But do you think knowing who it was would make a difference? If I told you, you¡¯d feel helpless... like there¡¯s nothing you could do. You don¡¯t know the kind of backing this person has."


    Currently, Max had no idea that Dipter had already decided to turn against his client. What Dipter was trying to do now was hold something over Max, to shake him, to make him feel fear. There was a reason, after all, why Dipter had felt like he could act the way he did, without consequences.


    But in this situation, Max had already done what he believed he needed to do, to get the answers he came here for. He lifted Dipter by his shirt once more and leaned in close, his voice low as he whispered in his ear.


    "Is it a member of the Stern family?" Max asked.


    Dipter¡¯s eyes lit up instantly. If Max had known this the whole time, then why had he gone through all of this? How... how did he even know in the first place? What was Max¡¯s relationship to the Stern family for things to go this far?


    "Your reaction says it all to me. Dipter, you are the one who has no clue what¡¯s going on here. You think you¡¯re a leader, but the whole time, you were just being used as a pawn," Max stated.


    Dipter made a scowl, he clearly didn¡¯t like that. Max could tell the kind of person he was. Not a follower, but someone who wanted to build his own empire. That¡¯s how he had climbed to the position he was in now.


    "You¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t like the man. Otherwise, even if you broke all my fingers, I wouldn¡¯t say anything... The man¡¯s name... is Chad Stern."


    Immediately, Max let go of Dipter, dropping him to the ground. Flashes of images raced through his mind. Out of all the Sterns, there was one who had already angered him the most, and it was Chad Stern.


    He had acted up at the party, ordering Max around the whole time, showing off in flashy clothes, full of arrogance, treating both Max and Aron like loyal dogs.


    Is that why he acted like that at the party? Because he already knew everything that was going on at the school?


    The truth wasn¡¯t so surprising to Max, he had suspected it was a family member. He also knew Dipter wouldn¡¯t understand the real reason for Chad¡¯s actions. But that¡¯s when another thought suddenly hit him.


    "Was it you?" Max asked, locking eyes with Dipter again. "Was it you who took me to the lake? To Notting Hill? To Cure Lake?!"


    Wolf was still paying close attention to everyone in the area. Out of all the students, Jay was down on his knees, he was still able to fight, technically, but it was clear there was no will left in him. What really caught Wolf¡¯s attention, though, was the way Aron¡¯s entire body tensed up when he heard the mention of the lake.


    Just what is going on with these people? This is getting more interesting by the second, Wolf giggled to himself.


    "Lake? Notting Hill? I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about," Dipter said, shaking his head.


    Max stepped forward, about to lift Dipter off the ground again, until Dipter spoke next.


    "We never touched you outside of school. Those were his orders," Dipter said, voice low.


    "That¡¯s a lie. You attacked me just the other day," Max replied sharply.


    "Right... that was the first time. And those were my orders," Dipter admitted with a shrug.


    It wasn¡¯t making sense to Max. He had thought if he found out who was behind the bullying at school, it would lead him to the person who had tried to drown him. The money being ignored. The targeting of those close to him. All of it.


    Wait... unless, are the two events unrelated?


    Maybe... there¡¯s more than one person in this family targeting me. If that¡¯s the case, then Dipter might actually be telling the truth... and that just made the situation a whole lot more annoying.


    "Ow! You¡¯re hurting me!" a voice cried out from behind.


    When Max turned his head, he was surprised to see that the Pit member, Sandra, had another girl restrained by the arms.


    "I caught her sneaking around just behind that wall over there," Sandra said, dragging the girl forward. "And she had her phone out as well."


    "Abby?!" Joe called out, his head tilting in disbelief.


    Everyone was surprised to see her, including Jay and Dipter. Because they all knew... she was the one being used against Max.


    "What are you doing here?" Max asked, his voice sharp.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Max! I didn¡¯t mean to!" Abby replied quickly. "I went to your house, I wanted to talk to you about what we said the other day. And then I saw you, I just happened to follow you and saw you getting into this whole mess. I didn¡¯t know what to do. I panicked."


    Sandra, still holding Abby¡¯s phone, had been scrolling through something. She suddenly stopped, her expression tightening. She turned the phone around and showed the others the screen. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Guys... the situation¡¯s not looking good. Looks like she called the police about five minutes ago," Sandra said, frowning.


    That meant the police could show up at any second, and with the state everything was in, the chaos, the injuries, the damage, it was going to be incredibly difficult for any of them to walk away from this clean.


    "HAHAHA! HAHAHA!" Dipter suddenly burst into laughter, sounding like a complete maniac. "Haha! Looks like I¡¯ve got the last laugh after all!"


    His eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction.


    "When they come, do you really think it¡¯s going to be me, us, who get in trouble?"


    "No, Max. You¡¯ve been through this before. It¡¯s going to be the same story, just like with Sam. All of us? We¡¯ll walk out of this clean. And all of you? You adults who laid your hands on poor, innocent minors you¡¯ll be the ones behind bars!"


    He grinned, teeth bloody, eyes wide with madness. "I win in the end!"


    And just then, the sharp, wailing sound of sirens filled the air.


    They were close.

 Chapter 83: The Real Max

    Chapter 83: The Real MaxThe moment the group heard the sirens, panic washed over their faces like a wave. Steven lifted both of his hands, clutching the sides of his head.


    "I knew it... I knew I was going to get screwed over the moment he asked me to fight high schoolers, of all things," Steven said, nearly collapsing to his knees. "Why... why did I have to let that damn money taint me!"


    In frustration, Sandra shoved Abby, causing her to fall hard to the ground and scrape her knee across the rough surface.


    "You b*tch! Look what kind of situation you¡¯ve gotten us into, what¡¯s wrong with you?!"


    "I¡¯m sorry!" Abby whimpered, covering her face. She was trembling. This wasn¡¯t her lifestyle, she had never been in a real fight before. She couldn¡¯t even remember the last time she¡¯d gotten into an argument. "I¡¯m sorry... I just... when I saw Max going up against all those students, and all those weapons in their hands, I didn¡¯t know what to do. I panicked..."


    Turning red, Sandra raised her hand again, ready to strike her.


    "Stop!" Max shouted. "It¡¯s okay. She¡¯s not involved in all of this. She¡¯s just a bystander who did what anyone else might¡¯ve done. She shouldn¡¯t be hurt because of that."


    Sandra paused, breathing hard, then looked over at Wolf for approval.


    He gave her a single nod, his expression calm, trying to ease the tension. Max was their client, after all, and it was best to listen to him. Still, Wolf didn¡¯t like the way things were starting to look, not one bit.


    They were usually involved in fights with other gang members, other organized groups. Because of that, neither side ever wanted to get the police involved. And if they were doing a high-level job, they¡¯d typically work with someone who could prevent a situation like this from happening in the first place.


    This one might be tricky... it¡¯s not looking good for us to walk away with absolutely nothing, Wolf thought, his expression unreadable. "I should look on the bright side, right? Maybe there¡¯s a chance to meet a few S-ranks in prison?"


    While the rest of the group stood there, filled with dread, the sound of laughter suddenly broke through the tension, it was still coming from Dipter.


    "Haha! Look at all of you!" Dipter cackled. "Max, you made one huge mistake in all of this. There¡¯s more than one way to rule this world besides using your fists, and that¡¯s money! Just watch. Watch as all of you get taken away, and I walk out of this completely fine!"


    Between the payments he had received from his client and the money he had stashed away over time, Dipter was confident. More than that, he had built connections through this job. He knew he could get out of this.


    "Haha! You¡¯ll be just as useless as you were with what happened to Sam!" Dipter yelled, still laughing.


    Max turned away from him and walked over to where Aron was standing.


    "Aron," Max said firmly. Ever alert, Aron straightened immediately.


    "I want you to make sure that everything that happened today is pinned on Dipter. Today... he¡¯s shown no remorse for any of his actions."


    "Yes, sir," Aron replied. The others were too far away to hear what Max was saying, as he spoke quietly, just for Aron.


    "On top of that, make sure that everyone who helped us today, nothing happens to them. Not even a slap on the wrist. And include Jay on that list as well. Do all of that, no matter the cost. You understand?"


    "I understand, sir," Aron said, bowing his head deeply to Max.


    It was an odd sight. The panic on the Pit members¡¯ faces. The students groaning in pain on the ground. And there, in the middle of it all, an adult bowing to a student. It confused anyone who saw it.


    Without delay, Aron turned away and got on the phone. He spoke softly, just low enough that Max couldn¡¯t hear a word of it. He made more than one call, and none of them lasted long. The whole situation, it felt oddly familiar.


    That¡¯s when Max noticed it. He pulled out his own phone and saw the notification flash.


    [-500,000]


    Again... the same amount as last time?


    Aron didn¡¯t explain anything. He didn¡¯t have to. He just wore a small, calm smile across his face.


    The sound of sirens was loud now, right outside, and moments later, two full squads of police officers came charging in, batons drawn.


    "Everyone freeze!" one of the officers shouted as they stormed into the area. "Get on the ground! Hands where we can see them!"


    Max complied, and so did the others. Even the Pit members knew the smartest thing to do right now was follow along with whatever was happening. As they lay flat on the ground, Steven couldn¡¯t stop the tears from pouring down his face.


    And as Dipter and Max locked eyes across the chaos, Dipter silently mouthed the words:


    You¡¯re screwed.


    The police didn¡¯t bother cuffing the students, there were far too many of them. Instead, the officers stayed close, hovering over everyone, making sure no one moved from where they lay. It didn¡¯t take long before they found several large black bags prepared for the day. One by one, they opened them, and soon after, the contents were seized as evidence.


    Then, one of the officers walked over to Dipter. He looked him up and down for a moment, then reached down, pulled him up off the ground, and helped him stand by offering a shoulder.


    "I told you, Max... haha, look at this. Just look at this," Dipter said, still grinning, until he suddenly felt something tightening around the back of his arms.


    "We¡¯ve received multiple reports saying you¡¯re the ringleader of this entire operation. So, right now, you¡¯re under arrest," the officer said flatly.


    "What...?" Dipter¡¯s face dropped completely. All the smugness, all the bravado, gone in an instant. "What are you saying, officer... what?"


    "Have your ears stopped working? You¡¯re in big trouble, kid. This isn¡¯t just some small-time school drama. What you¡¯ve been doing? It¡¯s serious."


    "Wait! Wait! I think you¡¯ve made a mistake! Call your chief, he¡¯ll know who I am! Tell him it¡¯s Dipter, it¡¯s Dipter!" Dipter shouted, panic rising in his voice.


    "What, so he can tell you you¡¯re in even more trouble?" the officer replied coldly. "Let¡¯s not resist. Just get in the car with us."


    Something wasn¡¯t right. Dipter didn¡¯t understand, it didn¡¯t make sense. Something about all of this felt off. Then he looked at the police officer more closely. His camera, it was turned off. All the officers¡¯ cameras had been turned off. Not one of them had read him his rights, or even stated the official charges.


    How did they know to go straight for him? To call him the ringleader based on description alone? Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Dipter was being moved away from the crowd, he noticed the same officer walk over and pick Aron up from the ground.


    After a brief conversation between them, the officers began letting the Pit members, Joe, and Steven off the ground¡ªeach one was allowed to stand, dust themselves off, and leave without being stopped. Even Jay.


    As Dipter passed by, his path crossed with Max¡¯s, and Max wore a wide smile.


    "You¡¯re right," Max said calmly. "It¡¯s hard to get used to what money can really do, huh? Even I¡¯m more used to solving things with my fists."


    As Dipter continued to be led away, his mind began spinning, connecting dots he hadn¡¯t noticed before. His client, Chad Stern. Everything Chad had said. The information Dipter himself had learned about him.


    And now... it was all starting to make sense.


    "Now... it all makes sense," Dipter muttered. "I know why he told us to go after you... not just that, I know exactly why he wanted you. It all makes sense now!"


    Dipter continued to be pulled away as the car door swung open, but he resisted getting inside, digging in his heels as he shouted at the top of his lungs.


    "I know who you are! You¡¯re¡ªYou¡¯re¡ª"

 Chapter 84: Rewarding Everyone

    Chapter 84: Rewarding EveryoneThe police car door slammed shut, and now the group could only hear muffled cries coming from Dipter inside, having no clue what he had been about to say. It was a question that lingered in many of their minds, but they wouldn¡¯t be getting the answer today.


    "What are you guys still hanging around for?!" one of the policemen barked. "I already said, the rest of you can leave!"


    He was talking about Aron and everyone else who had been cleared to go. And without wasting any time, before the police could change their minds, they were quick to take the opportunity.


    As they stepped past the sites barriers and started heading down the street, the Pit members were left scratching their heads, clearly confused.


    "They just let us go... just like that?" sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That¡¯s never happened before, right? They didn¡¯t even ask us for statements or take our names. What just happened? I¡¯m so confused."


    The joy of not getting into trouble had clearly overwhelmed the Pit members, and because of that, they hadn¡¯t been paying close enough attention to fully grasp what was really going on.


    "Abby," Max said, turning toward her, his voice calm. "I think it¡¯s best you head home for the rest of the day. It¡¯s been tiring, and there¡¯s a lot I need to think about."


    He offered a faint smile.


    "We¡¯ll see each other at school, right? And don¡¯t worry too much... I¡¯ve got a feeling things are going to be a lot better at school from now on."


    Abby wiped away her tears. She still felt guilty for calling the police when she did, and the swirl of emotions clouding her thoughts made it hard to think clearly. Still, she believed it had been the best thing to do, at least for now.


    As the group started walking, they made their way toward the train station. After all, Wolf and the rest of the Pit members were heading back to Notting Hill City, their job was done, and their contract fulfilled.


    Along the way, a particular figure stepped closer to Max. One of the larger walls of muscle in the group.


    "Max... it was you, right?" Jay asked. "It¡¯s because of you that I¡¯m walking free. That I¡¯m not still back there, with the police, like the rest."


    "I told you I¡¯d pay you back for the favor you did for me that day," Max replied. "I don¡¯t lie. I don¡¯t go back on my word. Still, that was a small favor, in my eyes, compared to what you did for me. So again, if you¡¯re ever in trouble, let me know."


    Jay quickly bowed his head.


    "Thank you," he said. And as he lifted his head, he took off running, fast, without looking back.


    Where he was going... what Jay would do next... it was hard to say. But he had morals, unlike many of the others. It was difficult to understand how someone like him had ended up working under Dipter.


    But for now, it wasn¡¯t Max¡¯s business.


    "Hey," Steven said, walking beside him. "Looks like we actually managed to get out of there, and I¡¯ve got a feeling it¡¯s all because of Max."


    "I don¡¯t think you¡¯re wrong," Joe replied. "That guy, knowing gangs, having a bodyguard with him the entire time? How the heck did anyone even get away with bullying him for so long? I have no clue what¡¯s really going on. But I do know one thing, I lucked out when I decided to join Max¡¯s side. If things had gone any differently, I¡¯d probably be back there with the rest right now."


    Finally, the group arrived at the train station. It was time for them to part ways.


    "Thank you for today," Max said, turning to Wolf. "You all did a good job. You deserve the money. I already sent it over, so I think you should treat your guys, celebrate a little."


    "Oh? Are you telling me how to run my gang now, too?" Wolf raised an eyebrow, half amused. "You¡¯re an interesting person, Max. A very interesting person. If you need our help again, I won¡¯t ignore a call from you."


    Wolf turned, the rest of the Pit members following behind him.


    "Who knows, maybe next time, I¡¯ll be the one giving you a call."


    After the others boarded the train, Max then turned to Steven and Joe as well.


    "The two of you did good as well. It¡¯s because of everyone that I was able to get where I needed to," Max said with a small nod. "Although... I think I saw, Joe, you only took out three guys? And Steven, you took out six in total."


    "Hey, wait a minute!" Steven said. "That¡¯s because I was dealing with that tank of a student! He should at least be worth ten students. It¡¯s not about quantity, it¡¯s about quality!"


    "Yeah? And I took out Ko!" Joe added proudly. "That¡¯s gotta count for something, right? You remember how badly he bullied you? He deserved everything that happened to him."


    "You mean we," Steven corrected. "If I remember right, you told me you were one of the people picking on him too. Honestly, I think you should donate your payment to me, for training you properly."


    Max just laughed, shaking his head, and started walking ahead while the two of them continued bickering behind him.


    ****


    A few hours later, the Pit members were back at the abandoned automobile shop where they usually hung out. They had ordered a mountain of takeout food and drinks to celebrate, just like Max had instructed.


    However, something weighed heavily on Wolf¡¯s mind. Even as they relaxed, joked, and ate, the events of the day replayed in his head. Something about it all just didn¡¯t sit right with him.


    As the group continued drinking and unwinding, the sound of footsteps echoed across the shop floor. Instantly, the Pit members turned, alert, eyes narrowing toward the man who had just entered.


    "It¡¯s alright!" Wolf shouted, raising a hand. "I was the one who invited him."


    The man walked in with a white jacket draped over his shoulders and glanced around at the Pit members as he passed them. A few of them noticed the symbol stitched onto the back of his jacket, a white tiger.


    "Everyone seems in high spirits. You celebrating something?" the man asked casually.


    "Lee, it¡¯s been a while since we last saw each other, right?" Wolf replied. "I called you because you owe me a favor, from that last outing we had."


    Lee gave a nervous smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.


    "I figured you¡¯d cash that in eventually... might as well get it over with. What is it you want?"


    "You guys have a big network, and a lot of pull. After all, your crew¡¯s one of the biggest groups in the city. So, if I asked you to get information on someone, you could do that, right?" Wolf asked, his voice calm but serious.


    "Haha, are you serious?" Lee replied with a grin. "That¡¯s your big favor? As a member of the White Tiger, I can get you information on anyone you want."


    "Alright then... I need you to look into this kid for me. I want everything you can find out about him."

 Chapter 85: Bigger Then The White Tiger

    Chapter 85: Bigger Then The White TigerThe Pit¡¯s hangout also served as the place where they slept. For most of the members, including Wolf himself, it was their home. They didn¡¯t have anywhere else to go, and the only way they knew how to make money, the only place that would accept them, was here.


    Inside the shop, Wolf had a makeshift office where he spent most of his time working, either adjusting his motorbike or rebuilding car parts. They were ongoing projects, like most things in his life, with no real timeline to finish them.


    After having a surprisingly good night¡¯s sleep, Wolf woke up earlier than usual. The other members were still fast asleep, scattered throughout the shop in different sections, mostly upstairs, while Wolf was already busy with another one of his projects: leveling up his character in his favorite RPG game.


    "Hmm... I still can¡¯t figure it out. That wasn¡¯t just some regular high school brawl," Wolf said aloud. "It felt like there was something more serious behind it. And I¡¯ll admit, I was wrong about one thing. Max might be an E-class fighter, but his experience... it feels like S-class. Just who is that kid?"


    "Why are you wasting so much time thinking about a high schooler?" Sandra asked, standing behind him, her own phone in hand.


    Thanks to Wolf, she had become quite addicted to the RPG game too, and right now, the two of them were in the middle of running a dungeon together, fighting side by side.


    "Do you really think a kid could do that? Not even the best street gangs could pull off what he did," Wolf said, not even glancing back as he continued tapping away on his phone.


    "Do what, beat up that student?" Sandra asked.


    "No... control the police," Wolf replied. "If a street gang had that kind of power, I wouldn¡¯t even call them a street gang anymore. To have influence over the police in a particular city? Didn¡¯t you notice what happened? Dipter thought those officers were in his back pocket, he was sure of it. And then someone else showed up with even more pull? I¡¯m excited to see what the White Tiger digs up."


    Right on cue, Wolf spotted Lee walking quickly through the maze of abandoned cars, heading straight toward them. Each of his steps was heavy, urgent, something was clearly wrong.


    Lee burst through the door, startling both of them.


    "What is wrong with you?" Lee snapped.


    "Hey, calm down," Sandra said, lowering her phone. "We know you¡¯re part of the White Tiger, but remember, you¡¯re the one who owes Wolf a favor."


    "Yeah, well, there are limits to the kind of favors you can ask for," Lee shot back.


    "What do you mean?" Wolf asked, his tone sharpening. "Is this about what I asked you last night?"


    "Of course it is!" Lee shouted. "I did what you asked, I started looking into the kid from that school. Went through our connections. Everything seemed normal... but then things started to get weird."


    "I was getting berated by my own group!" Lee said, his voice rising. "They started asking me why I was digging into that matter! Interrogating me, me and I¡¯ve been a member for three years! I had to lie and say one of our clients just wanted some basic info. You¡¯re lucky I didn¡¯t rat you out."


    "But they told me to drop it. Said to tell the client it¡¯s something we can¡¯t do. And if I ever got a request like that again, I was supposed to pretend I was never even asked. Wolf, I seriously felt like I was going to get killed."


    Sandra¡¯s mouth hung open in disbelief. A White Tiger member, afraid for his life? Just because of a simple request to look into someone?


    "Haha!" Wolf let out a loud laugh, leaning his head back with amusement. "What an interesting man. If that¡¯s the reaction from the mighty White Tiger... then don¡¯t you think there¡¯s a real chance? A chance that this kid, Max might be connected to someone even bigger than them?"


    ****


    When Max woke up in his small apartment, the first thing that greeted him was the dull, familiar ceiling, and the room itself, which served as a reminder that this new life of his was now a reality.


    He didn¡¯t know why, but some part of him had believed... that maybe, just maybe, once he dealt with Dipter, once things at school settled down, whatever had placed him in this body would finally let him go.


    But he was still in it. He was still Max Stern. And Max Stern still had enemies.


    As Max got up from his bed, he began pacing around the room, something he usually did when he was deep in thought.


    "With Dipter no longer in school, I won¡¯t have any more trouble there. They can¡¯t use Abby against me anymore, and I¡¯ll finally be able to move freely. But the real question is... can I use the money freely?"


    He paused, staring at the floor.


    "I found out the one pulling Dipter¡¯s strings was Chad, but I still don¡¯t know why he was trying to suppress me. Was it just because he thought I was an easy target? That it would be simple to pay off a bunch of high schoolers?"


    Max let out a slow breath.


    "And if I had to guess... I think they were telling the truth. They weren¡¯t behind the original incident. The one that put Max in this condition in the first place."


    If Max couldn¡¯t use the money freely, then he couldn¡¯t use it to gather more information, especially not about the White Tiger Gang. And what he didn¡¯t want was to bring even more targets onto his back.


    It would be best... if he could get rid of anyone who was still troubling him.


    In the middle of his thoughts, a knock suddenly echoed from the door.


    "Ah, right... it¡¯s still Sunday. So I guess that¡¯s Stalker here for his usual routine," Max muttered as he walked to the door. When he opened it wide, he wasn¡¯t surprised, Aron was standing right there.


    "Sir... are you not dressed?" Aron asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Do I have to be dressed in my own apartment? Isn¡¯t that one of the freedoms of having your own place?" Max replied, stepping aside from the door.


    "Master, did you not get the message I sent you this morning?" Aron asked as he walked in.


    Max had been too busy thinking about his next move to bother checking. He had taken care of one small pebble in the bigger problem. Sure, he would¡¯ve liked to deal with Chad, but how could he do that without upsetting the rest of the Stern family? And what would Chad¡¯s reaction be once he realized Dipter was gone?


    "Well, you¡¯re here now, so you can just tell me," Max said, walking over to his closet and pulling out a hoodie.


    "Sir, you¡¯ll need to be dressed in something more formal than that," Aron said. "There¡¯s an event you¡¯re required to attend today. It¡¯s a fundraiser being hosted by the Curts family."


    "The Curts family..."


    Only one name rang in Max¡¯s mind, Sheri Curts. His ex-fiance.


    "And sir," Aron added, adjusting his cuffs slightly, "some of your family members will be attending the event as well." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 86: Spend The Money!

    Chapter 86: Spend The Money!It had been a while since Max had seen his new family members, and the last time they met, he hadn¡¯t exactly walked away with a good impression of any of them. But the one who stood out the most, without a doubt, was Chad Stern. And that was before Max knew Chad had been the one to sic the entire school on him.


    Now, they were going to meet again, at an event hosted by the family of his ex-fianc¨¦e. Last time, Max had barely managed to keep it together. And now that he knew the truth... he worried it might end in a complete massacre.


    At that moment, Max¡¯s hand hovered over the only suit hanging in his closet. He paused, staring at it in silence.


    I don¡¯t really want to wear this, Max thought. The last time I wore this was at his funeral... and it¡¯s all I have left to remind me. It¡¯d just tarnish the memory.


    "We can get a new one," Aron said gently, having waited silently in Max¡¯s room the entire time. "The event is in the evening, so we still have some time to shop. And remember, I¡¯ll be by your side."


    Aron was dependable, to say the least. But in many ways, he was also a weakness. Someone Max didn¡¯t want to see get hurt.


    "I guess it¡¯s jogging bottoms and a hoodie for now," Max muttered as he started to get changed.


    "I do want to warn you," Aron began, adjusting his cuffs, "this is a fundraising event, and because of that, there will be high-profile guests in attendance, not just members of the Stern family."


    "Paparazzi, too?" Max asked as he pulled on his loosely fitted trousers. "So even more reason not to cause a scene, is that what you¡¯re saying?"


    In the middle of it all, Aron was quietly shaking his head. Max looked extremely casual. Not that it would matter in the normal world, but in the world he was about to step into, it absolutely would.


    "It¡¯ll be a double-edged sword for them," Aron said. "The presence of the press means your family members won¡¯t be able to pull anything, at least not like last time. Which is why I¡¯m warning you, Max. They could try to provoke you. If you slip up and cause a bad scene, it¡¯ll reflect poorly on the Stern family. And that... will lead your grandfather to be greatly disappointed in you."


    Finally, Max was ready to leave. As much as he wished he could walk into the charity event dressed like this, he knew it wasn¡¯t an option. Even in the underworld, people had enough sense to respect someone who made the effort to appear presentable.


    "Why are they even holding this charity event in the first place?" Max asked. "Didn¡¯t you tell me the Curts family was barely hanging on by a thread?"


    "That¡¯s precisely the reason why," Aron explained. "These charity events usually include items up for auction. The wealthy overbid on base-priced items donated by sponsors, and the excess money is used to fundraise for a charity."


    He folded his hands behind his back.


    "It¡¯s a good way for the rich to present themselves as doing some goodwill, get positive press, good public reports..."


    "And dodge some taxes?" Max interrupted.


    Aron cleared his throat awkwardly.


    "Yes... there is an element of that, of course. But for the Curts family, this is also a rare opportunity. They get to present themselves in front of many wealthy individuals, people who might just be their way out of the situation they¡¯re in. A small gesture for some can be a lifeline for others. Even you understand that."


    Some memories surfaced in Max¡¯s mind. The last time he saw Sheri, she had been trying to suck up to Chad, hoping to strengthen business ties between the families. But Max also remembered that it was because of her that he had uncovered one of the biggest holes in his memories. It was hard to say she was a bad person.


    With both of them ready, they exited the apartment and headed down toward the front of the street.


    "Oh, and I do have one suggestion," Aron added as they walked. "While you¡¯re shopping for a suit... I think it would be wise for you to present a gift. It¡¯s customary, and quite respectful, to give something to the host at these kinds of events."


    "A gift... I guess she does deserve one for helping me," Max mumbled to himself. "That¡¯s a good idea. Besides, I need to test it out anyway, see if I can actually use this money, and whether it draws any attention or not. Finally, I can put this money to good use. Who knows... maybe I¡¯ll even pick up something nice for myself at the auction."


    As Max stepped out onto the street, his hands dropped to his sides as he stared straight ahead.


    "What is that?" Max asked, blinking.


    "I told you already, we¡¯re going to a fundraising event. A member of the Stern family can¡¯t be seen arriving in something ordinary," Aron said as he casually stepped forward and opened the door to the car parked in front of them, a sleek, red Berrari supercar.


    Max didn¡¯t say much. He simply walked over and climbed into the passenger seat, where he caught sight of Aron putting on a pair of sunglasses, clearly pleased.


    "You¡¯re enjoying this, aren¡¯t you?" Max muttered.


    "It¡¯s very rare I get to drive something like this," Aron replied. "Most of the cars we use are built for comfort. But you know... if you do start using that money of yours, I wouldn¡¯t mind a gift or two like this myself."


    Aron pressed down on the pedal, the engine roaring to life as the car revved, then launched forward down the street.


    I hope no one sees me in this, Max thought. It¡¯ll blow my cover. But... I guess I should enjoy the money a little.


    ****


    The fundraising event was set at a grand manor tucked deep in the countryside. The Curts family had rented the estate for the day. A professional team was already hard at work organizing the decorations and arranging the items that would be displayed throughout the massive main ballroom.


    Meanwhile, Sheri was getting her makeup done by a team of professionals, her mother standing nearby, watching her every move.


    "This is it. This is it. You have to look spectacular today!" her mother, Sanna, urged. She was dressed in a deep purple gown, her body practically shimmering from head to toe in jewelry. Pearls hung around her neck, draped elegantly alongside a glowing gemstone, while heavy bracelets lined her arms, weighing them down.


    Sanna was someone who cared more about image than anything else, and she made sure her daughter followed that same standard.


    "Remember what I told you. You need to keep sticking close to Chad Stern, no matter what," Sanna pressed. "You¡¯ve been doing well the last few times, winning him over, but this time, you need to make him fall head over heels for you."


    "But Mom... isn¡¯t Max going to be there, too?" Sheri asked, her voice low. "If I do that... won¡¯t it leave a bad impression on me? People know Max and I were supposed to get married."


    "Do you think that matters?" Sanna scoffed. "You need to forget about Max. Forget you were even with him. With your looks, you should be able to get anyone to do whatever you want. You¡¯re my daughter, so I know you can do it."


    She leaned in closer.


    "Win Chad¡¯s heart. You have to. It might be the only way to save our family." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 87: A Bit Too Nice

    Chapter 87: A Bit Too NiceThe revving sound of the engine echoed through the streets, instantly drawing attention. Heads turned, conversations paused, and all eyes followed the sleek red car as it raced by. There were mixed reactions, some pointed at the vehicle in awe, others rolled their eyes or scoffed. Whether positive or negative, one thing was certain, it was impossible to ignore.


    "Did you see that just now?" Joe asked, standing just outside the gym, waiting for Steven to lift the gate.


    "Yeah. Damn rich people," Steven grumbled. "Always looking to show off. Is there really a need to drive something so flashy and rub it in everyone¡¯s face?"


    "You¡¯re not wrong," Joe replied. "But I still wish I was one of them someday. Better than ending up broke like you."


    "I¡¯d rather be broke than a bully," Steven muttered as he stepped inside the gym.


    Mancur City was a coastal city, located right by the sea. Strangely enough, there were no beaches, but instead, it had several well-developed port areas. The city itself was shaped like a crescent, which made it possible to live in multiple neighborhoods and still have a view of the ocean from nearly anywhere.


    Because of this, each district had its own local high street and shopping area. However, the luxury shopping malls, the ones that catered to the rich, were located in a particular area known as Shindon, right along the sea front. And while Mancur City had no beaches, oddly enough, it still drew in large numbers of tourists every year thanks to its scenery, atmosphere, and high-end attractions.


    So the shopping mall didn¡¯t just house luxury brands, it also had popular retail stores, making it appealing to a wide range of clientele. Which meant that even when Aron and Max pulled into the underground car park, they were still turning heads.


    People had seen their fair share of BBWs, Bercedez Benzes, and Borches... but a car like this? That was rare.


    "Hey, you think it¡¯s some kind of celebrity?" one of the younger guys whispered. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Nah," another replied. "Celebs don¡¯t come to places like this. They usually go to those private boutiques, you know?"


    Fortunately, the car park wasn¡¯t too crowded as Max and Aron stepped out of the vehicle.


    "I think it¡¯s best you stay here and look after the car," Max said.


    "Are you sure about that, sir?" Aron asked, brows furrowing. "What if someone¡¯s following you? Or worse, you get attacked again?"


    "That¡¯s exactly why I want you to stay here," Max replied firmly. "We¡¯ve noticed one thing, they never come after me when you¡¯re around. So I want to start creating situations where we¡¯re apart. Small ones, like this. Let them get confident. Let them think I¡¯m vulnerable. Then we catch them when they move."


    Aron hesitated as Max continued.


    "Besides, this is one of the safer places to pull something like this. It¡¯s a shopping mall, full of people and security. And come on, Aron, I do know how to shop. You don¡¯t have to follow me into every store."


    Although Aron still wasn¡¯t fully convinced, he decided it was best to let Max go and enjoy a little weekend freedom. After all, he was still a student.


    "If you¡¯re not back by 1 PM, after lunch I¡¯ll come find you. That gives you a couple of hours to find something," Aron said, checking the time.


    With both of them in agreement, Max went off on his own. Although it was still early in the morning, the shopping mall was already buzzing with people. Without wasting time, Max headed into the first suit shop he saw and immediately picked out a plain black suit.


    He grabbed one off the rack and started browsing shirts. That¡¯s when one particular shirt caught his eye, a bold red one.


    Damn it... after my so-called ¡¯lucky¡¯ red underwear led to my death, I¡¯ve been avoiding red altogether... Max thought. But... it is more my style.


    Reluctantly, he gave in and added the shirt to his purchase.


    After trying on the suit, the shop staff quickly measured him up and noticed the pant legs were too long. Thankfully, the store had an in-house alteration service.


    "We¡¯ll be done in about an hour," the woman assisting him said with a fresh smile. "If you come back after that, your suit will be ready for pick-up."


    With that, Max left the shop feeling pretty pleased with himself. In and out, quick work. And the best part? He hadn¡¯t even spent much on the suit.


    There¡¯s no point buying an expensive suit. They always end up ripped or covered in blood anyway, Max thought. But now... I need to find a gift for Sheri. I was always bad at these kinds of things. I don¡¯t even know what women like... I never had time to settle down in the past.


    Looking around, Max found himself on one of the higher floors. On this particular level, there were countless jewelry shops lined up, each selling a wide variety of items. Every shop had suited men standing at either side of the entrance, and inside were uniformed attendants, busy talking to and serving customers.


    If I get something expensive, then at least they can sell it if they don¡¯t like it, Max reasoned. It¡¯s not like she¡¯s my fianc¨¦e. She¡¯s an ex, anyway.


    He stepped inside one of the shops.


    The moment he walked through the door, one of the security guards gave him a long look, scanning him from head to toe. Dressed in joggers and a hoodie, Max stood out just as much as the red car had on the road... only not in the same welcoming way.


    Behind the glass counters, a few attendants took notice. Two female staff members in particular exchanged a glance.


    "Come on!" Louise whispered, frustrated. "I really need to hit my sales target. Why do we keep getting time-wasters coming in here?"


    "They just browse and leave," replied Claire, her partner, with a sigh. "And that one? He looks like a high schooler."


    Looking around, there were plenty of pieces that caught Max¡¯s eye, rings, brooches, necklaces. However, there was one problem: there weren¡¯t any price tags. Unlike with the suits, he couldn¡¯t just pick something up and bring it to the counter.


    "Excuse me?" Max called out.


    One of the female attendants turned briefly in his direction, then suddenly pivoted and rushed over to another customer.


    "Can I help you with anything today, ma¡¯am?" she said, all smiles.


    Max blinked, confused by the abrupt shift.


    Maybe she didn¡¯t hear me?


    "Err... hello?" he tried again, but this time, another attendant who had been nearby turned and walked straight into the back room.


    "What the heck..." Max muttered under his breath. Once could¡¯ve been a coincidence. Twice? Not a chance. Frustrated, Max couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore.


    "WILL ANYONE F*CKING HELP ME?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the shop.


    The sudden outburst drew the attention of the security guards and several of the staff.


    Reluctantly, Louise sighed and walked over.


    "Sir, please don¡¯t shout in this establishment. You¡¯re disrupting the experience for our other customers."


    "If any of you had actually paid attention to me in the first place, nothing would be disrupted. Aren¡¯t I a customer too?" Max snapped.


    Louise looked him up and down again, barely able to take him seriously in his hoodie and joggers.


    "There¡¯s no need to be rude, sir," she said curtly.


    "Can I look at that?" Max pointed toward a red ruby bracelet behind the glass.


    "Sir... may I ask, do you actually intend to buy? Items can be viewed from behind the glass, and we only take them out if the customer intends to make a purchase," Louise explained.


    Just then, Max glanced to his side and noticed an older woman asking to see an item. Without hesitation, the attendant took it out and handed it to her, no questions asked.


    The situation made Max¡¯s blood boil.


    "Do you just not want to do your job?" he asked, voice sharp.


    "Excuse me?" Louise replied, clearly annoyed.


    Max tapped his finger on the glass and pointed toward the other attendants. With a reluctant sigh, Louise finally took out the ruby bracelet and placed it in front of him. But by now, the frustration had completely soured the moment. Max simply handed it back.


    "Of course... typical time-waster," Louise muttered under her breath.


    Max continued walking through the shop, glancing at a few other displays, but his mood was clearly ruined. Still, there were plenty of other jewelry stores in the mall. If he didn¡¯t find something here, he could always move on.


    That¡¯s when Louise suddenly returned, only this time, she got uncomfortably close. So close that the hairs on the back of Max¡¯s neck stood on end.


    "Did you find anything you liked, sir?" Louise asked sweetly, her tone completely changed, her smile oddly forced.


    What is this? She¡¯s acting completely different now. Did her manager say something? Max thought.


    "Forget it. This place has ruined my mood. I¡¯m getting out of here," Max muttered, heading toward the exit.


    But just as he reached the door, an alarm blared through the store.


    BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.


    Immediately, the two security guards stepped in front of him, blocking his path.


    "What the... what¡¯s going on?" Max thought, confused.


    "Sir... we need to do a quick check," one of the guards said, stepping closer.

 Chapter 88: A Set Up

    Chapter 88: A Set UpThe moment the alarm went off inside the shop, every customer turned their head in Max¡¯s direction. Even people outside in the mall paused, their attention caught by the sound. Some pressed up against the glass windows, while others slowed their pace to gawk. Heads shook visibly, and whispers quickly spread among strangers, trading thoughts like gossip at a dinner table.


    Even from inside the store, judgment came swift.


    "It¡¯s always the ones you suspect," one older woman muttered under her breath. "They should¡¯ve just turned him away at the door."


    "You want to search me?" Max asked, glaring at the two security guards in front of him. "Pretty sure it¡¯s your machine that¡¯s broken."


    Without waiting for a reply, Max turned and stepped through the exit again.


    BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.


    The alarm blared once more. The guards immediately shifted, stepping in front of him with synchronized precision, blocking the exit entirely.


    "Fine, search me then," Max said, jaw tight. He was already irritated, now the entire shop was making it worse.


    He moved back inside, standing still as one of the guards began to frisk him. They patted him down quickly, but found nothing. Then came the order to empty his pockets. Max complied, wallet, phone, keys, laid out on a nearby counter. Still nothing suspicious.


    The search grew more thorough. The second guard stepped in, checking the seams of his clothes and lining of his hoodie.


    And then, just as Max shifted slightly, one of them reached into the hood of his hoodie and pulled something out.


    A small ring.


    Silver, clean, and with a red jewel glinting under the store lights.


    "Well, will you look at that?" one of the guards said, holding the sparkling item up for nearly everyone in the store to see. "Guess the machine wasn¡¯t broken after all."


    "What the¡ª? That was in my hood. How did that even get there?" Max asked, staring at the ring in disbelief.


    "Yes, I suppose it just magically got there," the guard replied, shaking his head with a sarcastic grin.


    "Can you calm down with the accusations for a second?" Max shot back. "All of your jewelry is locked behind glass cabinets. I couldn¡¯t take anything even if I wanted to. The only people with keys are your employees."


    "You seem pretty observant for someone who didn¡¯t steal anything," the guard said, stepping closer. "Come on. You¡¯re coming to the back while we call the authorities."


    With their bulky frames closing in, Max found himself being practically herded toward the back room.


    "Don¡¯t you guys have cameras or something? Where¡¯s the proof I took anything?" Max asked, sighing as he still chose to follow along.


    As he walked, he spotted Louise standing off to the side, arms folded across her chest and a smug smile stretching across her face.


    "If you can¡¯t afford the items, maybe don¡¯t try to steal them," she said, voice loud enough for others to hear. "Why don¡¯t you get a real job like the rest of us?"


    In that moment, a memory flashed in Max¡¯s mind, Louise getting uncomfortably close to him from behind earlier. It had felt weird at the time... but now?


    It couldn¡¯t be... could it? Max thought, a chill creeping up his spine.


    "I can¡¯t believe your parents raised you to be like this. They must be ashamed to have a kid like you," Louise said, arms still crossed.


    "B*tch!" Max snapped. "Talking about my parents... is not something you want to do."


    His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and wild like a beast ready to pounce. Even Louise flinched, gulping as she saw the rage burning in his glare while he was escorted into the back room. She didn¡¯t say another word.


    Claire quickly rushed over to her friend¡¯s side.


    "What was that about? His eyes, he looked like he was going to murder you," Claire said, wide-eyed.


    "Yeah... those types? All bark, no bite," Louise replied, brushing it off. "He¡¯ll be dealt with anyway. Come on. I think it¡¯s time for our lunch break. Actually, after that mess, I think we deserve to take it a little early."


    Claire nodded, and the two of them quickly grabbed their things, heading toward the exit of the shop.


    "Don¡¯t worry though, Louise," Claire added. "If that guy did try anything, Tom would¡¯ve handled it. He is part of the security team for a reason."


    Meanwhile, Max had been led to the back of the store, into what looked like the manager¡¯s office. The first thing he noticed was the wall of security monitors blinking above a desk.


    Well, at least those cameras will prove my innocence, Max thought.


    "Take a seat, right here," one of the men said. His name badge read Tom across the front.


    Max sat down without argument.


    Then, right in front of him, Tom pulled out his phone and began to dial.


    "Wait, what are you doing?" Max asked, eyeing the phone in Tom¡¯s hand.


    "What do you think I¡¯m doing? I¡¯m calling the police to make a report," Tom replied coldly. "This isn¡¯t some kids¡¯ candy store. What you did was a serious crime. So I¡¯ll let them handle the situation."


    "You can¡¯t be serious," Max replied, disbelief all over his face. "This whole thing is ridiculous. I¡¯ll just pay for the damn ring, I had no reason to steal it in the first place!"


    The man standing to Tom¡¯s right snickered.


    "Oh really? You think you can just pay for it now? If you could afford it, you wouldn¡¯t have tried to steal it in the first place. You¡¯re not the first kid to try this stunt, you know."


    Max clenched his fists in his lap, trying hard to breathe. He could feel the anger bubbling, but he remembered Aron¡¯s words. Today would be full of people trying to push him, trying to make him snap. This, he realized, was a perfect test. He needed to not solve this with his fists.


    "You¡¯ve got cameras all over that shop," Max said, trying to keep his voice level. "Check the footage. I guarantee you¡¯ll see I didn¡¯t take anything. In fact, I bet you¡¯ll see one of your own workers setting me up."


    Tom turned slowly, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the wall of monitors. They were currently streaming live footage from the shop. He looked down at the ring in his hand, then turned back to the screens and focused in on the cabinet it had come from.


    Tom continued dialing, raising the phone to his ear.


    "What are you doing?!" Max said, stepping forward. "Look at the camera!"


    Tom didn¡¯t even flinch. He just stood there, waiting for the call to connect.


    "I said look at the camera!" Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The ringing on the line clearly picked up on the other end, and that was the last straw for Max.


    He shot up from his seat, grabbed Tom by the tie, yanked him forward, and slammed a heavy punch straight into his face.


    Before the second guard could even react, Max spun and kicked him hard, right between the legs. The man dropped with a gasp, and Max followed it up with a brutal uppercut to his jaw. With both men stunned, Max grabbed Tom again, this time by the back of the head.


    "I told you to look at the damn camera!" Max shouted.


    He drove Tom¡¯s head straight into the display screen, the monitor cracking apart on impact. Glass and plastic shattered, sparks flickering for a moment. Max stood over the two men on the floor, fists trembling.


    "Damn it..." he muttered through clenched teeth.


    Meanwhile, back in the parking garage, Aron waited patiently near the car. Max still had a little time before the deadline they¡¯d agreed on, but Aron couldn¡¯t help the growing worry in his chest.


    "Am I overthinking this? It¡¯s like he said, just a quick shopping trip. Nothing should go wrong... right?" Aron thought.


    Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He saw the name flash on screen, and answered it without hesitation.


    "Aron," Max¡¯s voice came through, a little out of breath. "I¡¯ve got a situation. I could use your help... cleaning it up."

 Chapter 89: A Bad Mood

    Chapter 89: A Bad MoodListening intently to the phone, Aron nodded along, absorbing every word Max said. His facial expressions shifted second by second, eyebrows raising, jaw tightening, until Max finally finished explaining what had happened.


    Aron let out a long breath through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm.


    "I see... It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re okay now," Aron said. "So you just left the shop and decided to get your suit?"


    Max didn¡¯t answer right away, but Aron continued anyway.


    "I can understand your situation. There¡¯s just... a slight issue," he added. "You see, the shopping mall? It¡¯s actually owned by one of your family members. One of the Sterns."


    There was a pause on the other end of the line. Silence that told Aron Max had stopped in his tracks.


    Then came the question he¡¯d been expecting, the one Max was probably dreading.


    "Which one?" Max asked.


    "It¡¯s Karen Stern," Aron replied.


    Of all people, for this mess to unfold in her property? Chad¡¯s mother? Max couldn¡¯t help but think how typical it was. Of course, a place that hired rent-a-guards with attitude problems would belong to someone like her.


    "It won¡¯t be a problem," Aron added calmly. "I can sweep this under the rug easily. I just wanted to inform you so you¡¯d be more careful. I doubt anyone here in the mall knows who you really are, but don¡¯t worry. By the time you get back, everything will be handled."


    With that, Aron ended the call and immediately began dialing a few numbers. This time, it wouldn¡¯t cost Max a cent. As the head of one of the Heirs¡¯ security divisions, there were still things Aron could handle using his name alone, this was definitely one of them.


    While Aron waited in the car park, two female attendants came strolling in, scanning for their vehicle. It was their lunch break, and they were heading out to a nearby restaurant, already tired of the same mall food they had every day.


    The two walked side by side, arms linked casually, chatting between themselves, until something caught their eye.


    "Look over there," Louise said, tugging Claire¡¯s arm.


    Claire turned and spotted it too, the flashy red car. But it wasn¡¯t just the car that drew their attention. It was the man standing next to it.


    "Wow... A handsome man and a killer car," Claire replied, her eyes glinting. "If someone like him walked into the shop, I bet he¡¯d have zero problem buying his girl a whole basket of gifts." She smirked.


    "You¡¯re right about that," Louise agreed, eyes locked on Aron. "I think... I¡¯m gonna go talk to him."


    "What? Don¡¯t you already have Tom?" Claire asked, blinking in surprise.


    "And do you really think Tom will ever drive a car like that?" Louise shot back. "Someone like me deserves a ten out of ten, and an upgrade."


    Claire couldn¡¯t get a word in before Louise slipped away, making a beeline straight for the car and the man beside it.


    "Hi there," Louise said sweetly, brushing her hair back as she stepped up to him. She fluttered her lashes. "I noticed you were just standing around... do you need any help? I actually work inside the mall and, well, I¡¯ve got a little free time. I¡¯d be more than happy to show you around... if you¡¯d like."


    "Sorry, madam, but I don¡¯t have time," Aron replied politely, his tone cool and composed. "I¡¯m waiting for someone."


    "Oh, you are? Is it your... partner, perhaps?" Louise asked, forcing a playful tone, hoping for a ¡¯no.¡¯


    "Not my partner. I¡¯m waiting for my boss," Aron answered simply.


    "Boss?" Louise looked him over again. Yes, he was handsome, but now, she noticed something else. The way he stood perfectly straight beside the car... it almost looked like he was a driver or something.


    "So this car... it doesn¡¯t belong to you?" she asked, voice faltering just a bit.


    "It does not," Aron answered without hesitation, his eyes scanning the area just beyond her shoulder.


    "And, uh... this boss of yours, where exactly is he right now?" S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aron¡¯s eyes suddenly lit up with recognition. He gave a small nod as he spotted the person in question.


    Louise and Claire turned to look, and froze.


    It was him.


    The same student who had been in the shop just moments ago. The same one they¡¯d accused and embarrassed. And now, he was walking straight toward them, his expression like thunder, his hands cut and bruised, his knuckles bloodied.


    A rush of thoughts flooded Louise¡¯s head.


    Did he follow me? What happened? How did he get out of the shop? Is he here to attack me?!


    Panicked, she did the only thing she could think of, she ducked behind Aron, clutching his arm like a shield.


    "Please," she said, voice trembling. "Help me. I think that man is chasing me... and he¡¯s going to hurt me."


    "That man?" Aron repeated, raising an eyebrow. "He won¡¯t harm you. I know that for sure. That man... is my boss."


    Louise blinked. She wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d heard him properly. Boss? That high school student, dressed in worn joggers and a hoodie, was his boss? And he owned that car? That had to be impossible.


    "What are you doing?" Max asked, voice sharp as he approached.


    "What do you mean, sir? This woman just approached me while I was waiting here for you the entire time," Aron replied casually.


    "That woman, she¡¯s the one who framed me and started this whole mess!" Max snapped, pointing at Louise. "She¡¯s the one I was just telling you about."


    Aron¡¯s head slowly tilted down. His expression darkened. When Louise looked up and locked eyes with him, a chill ran down her spine. His stare was even more intense than Max¡¯s, veins visibly bulging near his temples, rage simmering just beneath the surface.


    "Get off me, you filthy animal!" Aron growled.


    Stunned, Louise immediately let go of his sleeve and stumbled backward, landing hard on the concrete floor.


    Max stood there, staring at her. There was anger in his eyes, a lot of it, but deep down, he knew nothing good would come from making things worse.


    "Let¡¯s just go before something happens," Max muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.


    Still biting his bottom lip, Aron slid into the driver¡¯s side, his stare lingering on Louise. He didn¡¯t break eye contact, not once.


    As the engine roared to life and they began to pull away, Max rolled down the window, lifting his middle finger toward the woman without a word as they exited the parking garage and disappeared into the distance.


    Wait... it¡¯s true? That kid... the two of them were really together? What just happened? Louise thought, her hand trembling slightly as Claire rushed over to her side.


    "Can you believe it?" Claire said, wide-eyed. "That car, I think it actually belonged to that kid. Maybe he really was in the shop to buy something. But if he had money like that... why would he steal?"


    Although Claire was rambling, asking question after question, Louise wasn¡¯t answering. She just stared ahead, frozen. What she¡¯d seen in Aron¡¯s eyes back there, it was real, raw, and terrifying. She hadn¡¯t just been embarrassed. She¡¯d felt something she never expected to feel that day: fear.


    Meanwhile, as they sped off, Max had tossed his new suit in the cramped back seat, still mumbling under his breath. A part of him felt like what happened wasn¡¯t enough, that woman deserved more, but he couldn¡¯t let her ruin the rest of his day. He had bigger things to worry about.


    "We need to start heading to the fundraising event, sir," Aron said, eyes on the road.


    "Right," Max sighed. "And now we¡¯re heading there... and I still don¡¯t have a gift. Great. Hopefully, that won¡¯t be a problem. Because honestly? I¡¯m not in the mood to be messed with."


    It wasn¡¯t just Max, either. Aron wasn¡¯t in the mood for games himself. He¡¯d seen what that woman had tried to pull, and now he was hoping the Stern family wouldn¡¯t try anything foolish.


    Because today... neither of them were in the mood to play nice.

 Chapter 90: My Favourite Stern

    Chapter 90: My Favourite SternBoth Aron and Max needed to cool their heads, and there was no better way to do that than by cruising along the coast, letting the ocean wind hit their faces. It was something Max had enjoyed in his previous life, though back then, he only had a motorbike.


    But time was ticking.


    Eventually, they pulled over near a boutique so Max could get changed. Aron bought a few small items so the staff wouldn¡¯t complain about them using the fitting room.


    When Max stepped out of the changing room, Aron looked up, and almost didn¡¯t recognize him.


    Wearing a sharp black suit, his hair slightly gelled back, and that bold red shirt underneath, Max looked like an entirely new man.


    "I have to say... that rather cheap suit fits you surprisingly well," Aron said with a smirk.


    "You can tell it¡¯s cheap, huh?" Max replied, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "They all feel a little different, but as long as it fits, that¡¯s what matters."


    "You look like a different person. If you¡¯d walked into the jewelry store dressed like this, I bet you wouldn¡¯t have had any trouble getting service," Aron replied.


    "People who judge others by what they wear are not the kind of people I want anything to do with," Max said as he walked past, heading toward the exit.


    "One more thing," Aron called out. "You look good in red. You should wear it more often. It¡¯s a luck¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t say it," Max interrupted, holding out a hand as he headed toward the car. "Just... don¡¯t say it."


    The night sky had rolled in, signaling it was finally time for the fundraising event. Max and Aron had driven a fair distance out of the city, far beyond the coastline and deep into the countryside. The roads were still smooth and well-paved, but on either side stretched vast, empty fields that went on for miles. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Because of how dark it was, they couldn¡¯t make out much in the fields, but up ahead, one location stood out like a beacon. A massive manor sat perched elegantly atop a small hill, glowing with sparkling lights.


    Even from a distance, they could hear the distant buzz of music and chatter. Bright stage lights swept across the manor¡¯s front, and decorative drapes hung over the building¡¯s elegant architecture. Flashing cameras fired off in bursts near the entrance.


    "There¡¯s hundreds of people here," Max said, eyes wide as they neared. "This is nothing like the last party we went to."


    "You¡¯re right," Aron replied calmly. "And I did inform you about all this ahead of time."


    As they pulled up to the grand gated entrance, several doormen and guards stood waiting. There was a strict entry protocol: guests had to be on the guest list, provide proper ID for cross-referencing, and display a unique code to gain access.


    Even outside the gates, paparazzi swarmed, desperate to catch a glimpse of someone important. Cameras clicked nonstop, although they didn¡¯t pay much attention to Max.


    They continued up the winding drive, eventually pulling into the open space in front of the manor. The paved lot looked large enough to hold at least two hundred cars, with even more vehicles parked across the garden space scattered around the massive estate.


    As they continued up the drive, there was a designated stop point near the manor entrance where cars pulled in, paused for a few moments, and let their passengers out. People would step out, pose for photos under the lights, and then casually make their way toward the entrance of the grand estate.


    I have to admit... this is way bigger than those poker nights I used to host with the boys, Max thought, eyeing the flashing lights and buzzing crowd.


    Eventually, it was their turn. The car rolled smoothly into position.


    "Hey, isn¡¯t that one of those one-in-a-hundred Berraris?" one of the photographers called out.


    "If they¡¯ve got that kind of money to throw around, they¡¯ve gotta be someone important," another whispered.


    The paparazzi waited eagerly, lenses aimed and ready, as two young men stepped out of the car and handed the keys to the valet.


    "Just stand, wave, and then walk," Aron instructed calmly as he positioned himself beside Max. He didn¡¯t do any waving himself, after all, he wasn¡¯t the important one here.


    In the middle of the media chaos stood a duo well known in the scene: a husband-and-wife photography team known as Hag and Daz. They had been in the business for over seven years and were hard to miss, not just for their talent but because they looked like total opposites.


    Hag was a short man with thick, round glasses, his camera always hanging around his neck. Meanwhile, Daz was a stunning woman, long-legged, with flowing brown hair and model-level presence. People often joked that Hag must¡¯ve saved an orphanage in a past life to end up with someone like Daz... though no one actually knew the real story.


    As camera flashes went off, the two young men stepping out of the sleek red car instantly caught Daz¡¯s attention.


    "That¡¯s quite the flashy car for someone I don¡¯t recognize," she said, snapping a few photos. "Who are they?"


    "Don¡¯t waste your time," Hag replied, adjusting his lens without even looking. "Can¡¯t you see? Hardly anyone else is taking photos of them. No one¡¯s gonna buy a story about some nobody."


    "Who is he, though?" Daz asked, keeping her eye on the taller boy in the red shirt.


    "He¡¯s the youngest heir to the Stern family fortune," Hag said flatly.


    "Wait, then isn¡¯t that kind of a big deal?" Daz asked, clicking off another quick shot.


    Hag looked up at his wife and sighed heavily.


    "You¡¯re pointing your camera at the wrong person."


    "What?" Daz blinked, shifting her lens slightly toward Max. "He¡¯s the heir."


    She felt a little embarrassed by her mistake, he didn¡¯t exactly look how she imagined a Stern heir would. She had pictured someone polished, groomed, maybe wearing designer everything. Max didn¡¯t give that vibe.


    "He¡¯s so far down the ladder, nobody pays attention to him," Hag explained. "Nothing remarkable. No big achievements. No spotlight. He¡¯s still in high school, too. So don¡¯t waste your time snapping shots of him."


    Still, as Max and Aron made their way toward the glowing manor, something about the image stuck with her. His presence. His stride. The tension in his posture.


    "Maybe... just one photo," Daz said softly.


    She lifted her camera again and took the shot. As she glanced down to check how it turned out, something about the picture made her pause.


    There was something in it, something mesmerizing.


    "For someone so young, he sure has confident eyes," Daz murmured, her gaze lingering on the photo she¡¯d just taken.


    Meanwhile, Max and Aron had entered through the grand double doors of the manor. Inside, they were greeted by well-dressed waiters offering trays of champagne. Aron politely declined for both of them, Max couldn¡¯t drink anyway.


    Following the signs through the entry hall, they eventually reached the entrance to the main ballroom. Just before they stepped inside, two women stood to the right, clearly positioned to welcome arriving guests.


    "Thank you for attending the Curt family¡¯s event," both women said in perfect unison.


    As they lifted their heads, Max immediately recognized them.


    That¡¯s Sheri Curts... she really does look different when she¡¯s not in her school uniform, Max thought. His eyes then shifted to the woman beside her. And that must be Sheri¡¯s mother...


    "Max, it¡¯s been quite a while since we last saw each other," Sanna said, her voice smooth but slightly guarded. "I hope things won¡¯t be awkward between us."


    For a moment, no one replied. Sanna stood expectantly, clearly waiting for something, an acknowledgment, a smile, anything. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.


    "I must apologize," Aron finally broke the stillness. "Due to our tight schedule, we weren¡¯t able to bring a gift. We hope that next time, we¡¯ll have the chance to offer you something spectacular in return for your invitation."


    Instantly, Sanna¡¯s smile faltered. Whatever charm she had been putting on dropped in a heartbeat.


    "Then why bother showing up at all?" she muttered with clear annoyance. "Even if it¡¯s just for formalities."


    Sheri glanced at her mother, her expression full of quiet embarrassment.


    "You¡¯re a fool, Max. Not even competent enough to bring a simple gift," Sanna snapped, her words cutting sharp and cold. "I¡¯ll tell you this, if there¡¯s one good thing you ever did, it was calling off that engagement. You have no etiquette, no manners, and you¡¯re absolutely useless."


    Max had braced himself for backlash from the Sterns, but getting berated by the Curts had caught him completely off guard. Was a gift really that important? Still, as he studied her expression, something changed. Her eyes lit up instantly, her whole demeanor flipping like a switch.


    The fake smile returned.


    "Ah! Who¡¯s my favorite Stern?!" she sang, her voice now suddenly sweet. "It¡¯s so wonderful to see you, Chad!"

 Chapter 91: For The Family

    Chapter 91: For The FamilyEver since Aron told Max he¡¯d be attending this event, his biggest concern wasn¡¯t Sheri, his ex-fianc¨¦e, or whatever scheme her mother was plotting. No, the real problem had always been Chad.


    Now that Max knew the truth, that Chad was the one behind everything that happened at the school, it changed everything. He still didn¡¯t know who was responsible for the attempted drowning of the real Max Stern... but this guy, Chad, had caused nothing but trouble for him in his new life.


    "Why don¡¯t we move along," Aron said with a calm smile, gently guiding Max away.


    They shifted toward a nearby table, picking up small plates and nibbling on the arranged hors d¡¯oeuvres. Max was grateful for Aron¡¯s instinct. Even in this grand ballroom, packed with chandeliers and high-profile guests, there were still people with press badges walking around and cameras clicking in every direction.


    Still, as Max picked through the appetizers, he couldn¡¯t help but glance back over his shoulder.


    There he was.


    Chad had arrived, sunglasses resting on the top of his head, his hair slicked back behind his ears, and a flashy yellow patterned suit that made him stand out like a neon sign in a black-and-white photo. You could spot him from anywhere in the room.


    "Mrs. Curts, it¡¯s so lovely to see you," Chad said, bowing slightly as he lifted her hand and kissed it with practiced charm. Then, turning to Sheri, he added, "And you, you look more stunning every time I see you."


    He took Sheri¡¯s hand and gave it a small kiss as well, smiling like he¡¯d just stepped out of a romance novel.


    "I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve been really busy as of late," Chad said with a sigh. "Things are getting tough within the Stern family, so I haven¡¯t had time to get you a gift. But I promise, I¡¯ll bring you something special the next time we meet."


    "Oh, don¡¯t be silly," Sanna giggled, gently slapping Chad across the chest like they were lifelong friends. "You don¡¯t have to get us anything. You being here is a gift enough."


    Max nearly spat out his drink right then and there, coughing hard and drawing attention from several nearby guests. He clutched his chest as he tried to breathe, making quite a scene.


    Both Chad and Sanna glared at him disapprovingly, while Sheri turned her head to the side, trying, and failing, to hide a small smile.


    "Are you alright? Did someone poison your drink?!" Aron asked, gripping Max¡¯s shoulders and looking around in fake alarm.


    "Calm down," Max wheezed, waving him off. "I just choked. I was shocked by the blatant double standard. These rich people... or the people sucking up to them, it¡¯s enough to drive someone mad."


    Trying to cool his head, Max walked away, deliberately avoiding Chad. As he wandered through the ballroom, he noticed all the items up for auction. Famous paintings, rare artifacts, and one-of-a-kind memorabilia were displayed with soft lights and gold tags.


    There were plenty of celebrities too, faces Max recognized from the media, but they didn¡¯t impress him much. Celebrities had never meant much to him.


    What he was looking out for were underworld figures, just like the ones he¡¯d spotted at the last Stern family gathering. But so far, no one like that had shown up.


    Not yet, anyway.


    "All of your family members have arrived, apart from Dennis Stern," Aron said, standing just behind Max¡¯s shoulder. "Your grandfather¡¯s a bit too high-profile to waste time on events like these."


    "I agree," Max muttered. "Have you seen the crap they¡¯re selling in here? And the prices people are putting on it? Even ifI had the money, I wouldn¡¯t waste it on this garbage. Honestly, if I had the choice, I wouldn¡¯t have come either."


    "Well, it¡¯s probably a good thing all your family members are ignoring you," Aron replied. "They seem way too busy trying to gain favor with the other guests."


    Despite already having ridiculous wealth, each Stern was chasing after more, more power, more influence, more status. But the one thing Max couldn¡¯t keep his eyes off all night... was the performance being put on by Sanna, Sheri, and Chad.


    It was infuriating.


    "What are you doing just following me around everywhere?" Sanna hissed in a hushed voice. "You need to be with Chad, winning him over! Don¡¯t forget, everything we have is riding on this. I¡¯ll do my part for the family, so you do yours."


    With that, she practically shoved Sheri in Chad¡¯s direction.


    Chad was already talking to two other women, older, dressed in designer cocktail dresses, laughing and pouring him drinks. As Sheri stepped closer, the contrast between her and them was painfully obvious.


    She was still a high school student.


    They were adults. And Chad? A man in his mid-twenties, charming and polished. Something about the whole scene made her stomach twist.


    Regardless of how she felt, Sheri reminded herself of her mother¡¯s words. She wasn¡¯t doing this just for her own sake.


    It¡¯s for the family.


    Taking a deep breath, she walked over to Chad, forcing a warm smile.


    "Chad, you seem to be having a good time," she said sweetly. "Are there any items tonight that caught your eye?"


    "Not really," Chad replied with a casual shrug. "There hasn¡¯t been anything I want to get, although I suppose there¡¯s been one thing... I guess you could say you."


    The two women beside him giggled, leaning into his shoulders with flirty smiles. Sheri laughed softly too, joining the act. And just like that, she found herself spending the better part of the night by Chad¡¯s side.


    Meanwhile, reporters Hag and Daz had made it inside the ballroom, their cameras hanging around their necks. For some reason, Daz found herself oddly drawn to a single individual.


    "Looks like he hasn¡¯t bid on anything," she muttered. "You¡¯d think all the Sterns would have some pocket money to throw around."


    "I keep telling you, ignore him," Hag replied, not even looking up.


    "Right... but out of all of them, only two haven¡¯t bid on anything: Chad, and Max Stern." Daz raised her camera and took another quick shot. There was something in Max¡¯s expression, focused, distant. He was clearly staring at someone. But who?


    Max had spent most of the evening ignoring the festivities, instead observing how everything played out around him. He watched Sanna making her rounds, clearly trying to bring up investments for their struggling chain business.


    Judging by the tight smile on her face and the subtle clenching of her jaw... she wasn¡¯t having much luck.


    Which explained why Sanna kept glancing in a particular direction, right toward her daughter.


    Over the past hour or so, Sheri¡¯s face had gone bright red. Chad had been pushing drinks on her nonstop, despite her being underage, and she clearly wasn¡¯t handling it well.


    Her mother¡¯s just watching this... and she¡¯s fine with it? Max thought, his jaw tightening. Is it just me, or do these people have even fewer morals than the ones in the underworld?


    By now, Sheri was slumped in her chair at the table. Chad walked over, grinning, and offered her yet another drink.


    "I¡¯m sorry," she muttered, waving a hand weakly. "I don¡¯t think I can take any more. My head is starting to spin... I think I¡¯m gonna throw up."


    "Come on, you like me, right?" Chad said, sliding into the seat beside her. "We¡¯re just trying to have a good time. And for me? This is a good time. If you really like me... then you¡¯ll drink it."


    Sheri stared at the champagne glass. Just looking at it made her nauseous.


    As she glanced around the ballroom, her eyes met her mother¡¯s. Sanna was watching. Intently. Silently.


    I... I have to do this. It¡¯s just one more drink. For the family. That¡¯s all it is, right?


    Her hand began to reach for the glass, trembling. Chad leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, as if to "help" her. But it wasn¡¯t comforting, it felt suffocating.


    "Come on, bottoms up," Chad said smoothly. "After this, I¡¯ll take you somewhere nice... and we can cement our relationship."


    Sheri, still holding the glass, slowly raised it toward her lips, until a hand reached out and stopped her.


    "You shouldn¡¯t force yourself," the voice said gently, yet firm. "While your body¡¯s still young, it¡¯s important you take care of it. Especially for a pretty woman like you."


    Sheri¡¯s vision was slightly blurred, her head light, but she looked up, trying to make out the person who had intervened.


    "Max..." she murmured.


    Immediately, Chad stood up, his chair scraping sharply against the floor. His jaw was tight, teeth clenched. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What do you think you¡¯re doing?" he demanded.

 Chapter 92: Catching My Eye

    Chapter 92: Catching My EyeThe ballroom, where the auctions were taking place, was massive. At least six hundred guests filled the space, constantly moving from one area to the next. Between the chatter, the waitstaff, and the auction calls, most people didn¡¯t even notice when something unusual happened.


    Most people, but not Daz.


    From the very beginning, she¡¯d been focused on something entirely different. Sure, the other reporters chased trends, snapping photos of the usual celebrities and high society drama.


    But the ones who made a name for themselves? The ones people looked up to and remembered? They set the trends. They captured moments no one else noticed. And that¡¯s exactly what Daz was hoping to do tonight, with Max Stern.


    "Oh... he¡¯s finally moving," Daz said, her eyes narrowing behind the camera. She had been watching Max closely the entire time, noticing the tension in his posture, the way his jaw clenched, his knuckles tightening.


    Now that he was walking, headed somewhere with purpose, her heart skipped. Something¡¯s about to happen.


    "Hey, looks like I might¡¯ve found something after all," Daz whispered.


    "Well, they¡¯re some of the youngest in the Stern family. It¡¯s no surprise there¡¯s some drama. If anything, I feel bad for the poor girl," Hag said, shaking his head.


    "Sheri Curts, right?" Daz asked. "She¡¯s the daughter of Sanna Curts, who¡¯s hosting all of this."


    "Right," Hag replied, glancing in their direction. "So... do you know why the tension between them is so thick?"


    Daz shook her head.


    "I know the Curts family ran into financial trouble after Sheri¡¯s father passed away. He was a people¡¯s person, someone who could charm anyone into believing in him. He had a way of convincing others he¡¯d succeed and pay them back if needed. But when he died... all of that trust vanished. The Curts family¡¯s influence crumbled, and now they¡¯re struggling."


    "Exactly," Hag said. "That story only got brief coverage in the news. But there was something interesting about Sheri. As you said, her father was that persuasive. So persuasive, in fact, that Dennis Stern agreed to let the youngest Stern heir, Max, marry Sheri. But after her father passed, her mother called the whole thing off. It¡¯s not hard to guess why, without the father, there was no benefit in tying their family to Max."


    Daz nodded slowly, the pieces starting to click.


    No wonder there¡¯s tension. Maybe Max still had feelings for Sheri... or maybe it was something else. Either way, it made things a lot more interesting.


    "For someone who told me to stop focusing on Max," Daz smirked, "you sure know a lot about his life."


    "I¡¯m just covering all angles," Hag replied coolly.


    **** sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Chad had stood up from his seat now, locking eyes with Max across the table.


    "What are you doing here, Max?" he said, his voice sharp. "Trying to ruin my night? Sticking your nose where it doesn¡¯t belong?"


    "It¡¯s a fundraising event," Max replied, keeping his tone steady. "On behalf of the Curts family. And I don¡¯t think getting their underage daughter so drunk she can¡¯t stand is a particularly smart move, especially after she already told you no."


    "No? Are you saying I¡¯m forcing her?" Chad shot back. "She can do what she wants, I¡¯m not exactly shoving drinks down her throat."


    Max scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.


    "But you might as well be," he said coldly. "You know exactly what her position is, right? I know you probably took your IQ test in the bathroom stall of a McDonald¡¯s, but I didn¡¯t realize you were this dense. You know the kind of power your position gives you over her."


    Chad¡¯s lips curled into a smile as he leaned in close, whispering into Max¡¯s ear.


    "And is there any problem with that?" he murmured before pulling back.


    "Women flock to us the moment they realize we¡¯re Sterns. That¡¯s just how it is. Every relationship is a give and take, so I take what I want, and they get what they want in return. I don¡¯t see the issue. Sheri¡¯s only talking to me because she wants my money, right? Then why shouldn¡¯t I have a little fun? It¡¯s not like she has other options."


    He laughed, loud, smug, and unbothered.


    But his laughter was cut short.


    Sheri stood up, reaching for Max¡¯s forearm. Her fingers curled around it, and Max instantly felt it, how tense his entire body had become.


    "He¡¯s right," Sheri said softly. "And... I¡¯m fine with it."


    Her head was lowered, her voice barely a whisper. But Max saw it, a single tear that slid down her cheek and fell silently to the floor.


    "What are you still doing here?" Chad scoffed. "She already told you, she knows exactly what¡¯s going on. Thankfully, she¡¯s one of the more honest ones. Hey, I¡¯ve got an idea, Max. Since you¡¯re so generous, why don¡¯t you use your money to help her?"


    He leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "Oh right, I forgot... you can¡¯t touch any of that money, can you? If you can¡¯t use it... might as well hand it over to me."


    Chad started laughing again, mechanical, smug, and completely unbothered.


    "You could try to hit me again, like last time," he said, his voice calm but condescending. "But it won¡¯t change a thing about your situation, Max."


    He didn¡¯t say the next part out loud, but it echoed in his thoughts like a victory chant: I own you.


    Across the ballroom, Sanna had noticed Max stepping in between Sheri and Chad. Her brows furrowed, concern, or perhaps annoyance, flashing across her face as she started to march over.


    Only for someone to suddenly step in her way.


    "Ah, excuse me, ma¡¯am. Would you like a drink?" Aron said, holding out a tray with perfect poise.


    Sanna moved to step around him, but Aron smoothly blocked her path again.


    "Or perhaps some snacks?" he offered cheerfully. "Since you¡¯re hosting, it¡¯s only right I help serve you."


    Every time she tried to sidestep, Aron was there, smiling, polite, and perfectly in her way. And because of the guests watching nearby, Sanna was forced to bite her tongue rather than snap at him.


    Max, Aron thought, his eyes never leaving Sanna. I¡¯m leaving this to you. Remember what I said, don¡¯t act out. Not here. Not when everyone¡¯s watching... at least, not in public.

 Chapter 93: My Gift To You

    Chapter 93: My Gift To YouWhat had become painfully clear during their exchange was this, Chad still had no idea Dipter had already been dealt with. The threat he once held over Max¡¯s head... no longer existed. All that cocky confidence? It was hollow.


    But ironically, Chad was bluffing in his own mind, too. As far as he was concerned, Dipter had slipped out of his control. He believed the fear he¡¯d planted in Max was still alive and well, unaware of everything that had happened since.


    Instead of replying, Max turned toward Sheri. He gently moved her hand off his forearm, then took both of her hands in his.


    "I want you, for just a moment, to forget what anyone else wants," Max said softly. "I want to ask you, what do you want? If you want to stay here, to stay with Chad, then I won¡¯t stop you. But if you want to leave this situation, if you want out, then I¡¯ll help you. I¡¯ll support you completely. This time... I just want to know what you want."


    "What I want...?" Sheri echoed faintly.


    The words, so simple to Max, hit Sheri like a tidal wave.


    The last person who had ever asked her what she wanted... had been her father. And ever since he passed, not once had anyone asked again.


    It had always been her mother, drilling into her what was best for the family, for the business, for her father¡¯s legacy. But right now, her mother wasn¡¯t by her side, whispering commands in her ear.


    Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was that brief space to breathe. But in that moment, something stirred inside her.


    She lifted her head, just a little braver than before.


    "I want to... get out of here," Sheri said, her voice trembling, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.


    Without hesitation, Max gripped her hand and began leading her away, pulling her out of Chad¡¯s reach, out of the ballroom, and away from everything.


    "Sheri!" Chad shouted after them. "I¡¯ll remember this! That decision you just made, it¡¯s going to affect you for the rest of your life!"


    Max felt Sheri¡¯s hand tense in his. She shuddered, the weight of Chad¡¯s words hitting her, but he didn¡¯t stop. He held her hand tighter and kept walking until they were gone from the room.


    Back inside, Sanna finally managed to push past Aron by physically forcing her way through. But it was too late. She arrived just in time to see the sour expression on Chad¡¯s face.


    "Chad, please! Don¡¯t be upset!" Sanna pleaded. "Sheri¡¯s young, she¡¯s just being manipulated by that awful Max. She¡¯ll understand... eventually. She will!"


    She reached out to grab his hand, but Chad snapped his arm away, flicking her off and storming off without a word.


    Outside the manor, on the stone patio of a sprawling garden, Max and Sheri stood alone. The area, often used for weddings, was quiet now. Just stone under their feet and moonlight on their shoulders. Hedges framed the back garden and led out into open fields beyond.


    Sheri leaned forward onto a small balcony railing, staring out into the open dark. The air was cooler out here, and for a second, it felt easier to breathe.


    "Max... what did I just do?" she whispered, turning around.


    And then the real tears came. She didn¡¯t even realize she was falling until her head gently leaned against his chest.


    Max didn¡¯t push her away. He didn¡¯t embrace her either. He simply stood there, letting her lean on his chest. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You were just honest with yourself," Max said quietly. "You did what you wanted to do."


    "I know... I know." Sheri sniffled, rubbing her head before pulling away slightly, her cheeks flushing as she realized what she¡¯d just done.


    "I... I never wanted to do any of it," she said, her voice shaking. "I never wanted to talk to Chad, or suck up to him. Everyone can see how much of an a**hole he is." She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "But... I had no choice. I don¡¯t have a choice. If we don¡¯t get money soon, the business will fail. We¡¯ll lose our house, all our belongings, everything my father built, it¡¯ll all be gone."


    "If our family loses the business," she whispered, turning her back to him as she sobbed again, "it¡¯ll feel like I¡¯ve lost everything I had left of him."


    Max walked over and stood beside her, resting his hands on the cool stone railing as they looked out at the empty fields.


    "Stupid adults," he muttered. "They¡¯ve put all this weight on your shoulders and don¡¯t even realize it. This isn¡¯t something you should have to deal with, not like that."


    "I don¡¯t know who your father was... what kind of man he really was," Max continued, his voice steady. "But if he loved you, if he really cared, then I bet he¡¯d rather watch the business fall and burn to the ground than see his daughter being dragged through all of this."


    "He wouldn¡¯t want to save his legacy by selling his daughter."


    Max¡¯s words had settled something deep in her heart. Maybe that was how her father would¡¯ve seen things. But she couldn¡¯t say the same for her mother, the only family member she had left.


    Still sobbing, overwhelmed by the emotional storm inside her, Sheri walked over to a nearby bench just outside the manor. She asked Max to come with her, just to stay close, for the company, for the comfort.


    She cried until there were no more tears left. Her body felt heavy, but lighter at the same time. Eventually, she leaned her head against Max¡¯s shoulder.


    "Thank you, Max," she whispered at last. "Thank you for getting me out of that... You know, I used to think you were kind of a dweeb. But now... that¡¯s twice you looked kinda cool."


    "Twice?" Max chuckled.


    "Yeah," Sheri said, her voice soft and drifting. "Back when you were fighting in the classroom that day. I saw it all happen. I didn¡¯t really think too hard about it then... but I remember thinking you were kinda cool."


    Her voice began to fade as the mix of alcohol, emotions, and exhaustion started to catch up with her. Her eyes fluttered shut, and within seconds, she had dozed off on his shoulder.


    "You really helped me back then at school," Max said quietly. "So I wanted to get you a gift, even if Aron hadn¡¯t mentioned anything. I know I showed up empty-handed, but now I think I¡¯ve just come up with the best gift I could possibly give you."


    Max reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.


    "It¡¯ll be the kind of gift that makes sure you¡¯ll never have to deal with Chad... or situations like that again."

 Chapter 94: A New Company

    Chapter 94: A New CompanyThe next day, Sheri let out a long moan as she twisted and turned in bed. The bright ray of sunlight piercing through the curtains hit her face, forcing her to squint. Slowly, her eyes cracked open, only making the pounding in her head worse.


    "What the... where am I?" she groaned, clinging to the edge of her quilt.


    Looking around, the space felt familiar, because it was. She was in her own bedroom.


    "How did I even get here? I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t remember anything from last night."


    Bits and pieces started to resurface. The fundraising event... the drinking... the tears rolling down her cheeks. And then, Max. Her eyes widened as the final memory clicked into place.


    Immediately, she yanked the sheets over her head and curled into a tight ball.


    "No, no, no... I cried in front of Max," she thought, mortified. "And I cried so much! I leaned on him. What was wrong with me yesterday?!"


    Her face was burning. It didn¡¯t help that she still had no idea how she¡¯d gotten home. But if she was back here, that meant something else too, her mother was home.


    Sheri and her mother still lived together in a luxurious apartment in the city. It spanned two floors, complete with a sea view framed by floor-to-ceiling windows. The upstairs housed their bedrooms, while downstairs was an expansive open-plan space: kitchen, lounge, and dining area all flowing into one.


    The calm silence of her room felt like a temporary shield, a break from whatever storm was waiting for her just outside the door.


    When she glanced at her clock, the numbers glowed back at her, it was already midday.


    "I guess Mum didn¡¯t bother to wake me up for school," Sheri muttered to herself. "She must¡¯ve seen how much I drank... I guess she understands."


    But the moment she thought of her mother, her heart started to pound. Her stomach twisted, sinking lower and lower. The dread weighed heavier than the throbbing pain in her skull, because this wasn¡¯t just a hangover.


    This was the fear of facing her.


    ¡¯After what I did... she¡¯s going to kill me. She¡¯s going to kick me out of the house. I don¡¯t even know what¡¯s going to happen!¡¯ Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sheri curled up under the covers again, suffocating in her own panicked thoughts. All she¡¯d had to do was one thing. One simple thing, and everything would have been fine.


    But her mouth was dry, her head ached worse than before, and she knew she couldn¡¯t stay in bed forever. Sooner or later, she¡¯d have to face her mother.


    ¡¯It can¡¯t be that bad, right?¡¯ she told herself. ¡¯I mean... if it was, Mum wouldn¡¯t have brought me back home at all...¡¯


    Eventually, Sheri tiptoed out of her room and stepped onto the upstairs balcony that overlooked the open-plan living area. She moved quietly, hoping to hear if her mother was even in.


    That¡¯s when she heard it, a faint whistling sound.


    ¡¯That¡¯s... odd. I don¡¯t remember the last time I heard her whistling.¡¯


    Then, something else hit her, the smell. The delicious scent drifted up from the floor below, and as she peeked over the edge of the balcony, what she saw confirmed it.


    ¡¯Did Mum cook a meal for herself... and she¡¯s the one whistling? When was the last time that happened?¡¯


    None of it made sense to Sheri. Had her mother finally snapped after everything that had happened? Had she gone completely off the rails?


    Taking slow, cautious steps down the stairs, Sheri descended with her whole body trembling, and that¡¯s when Sanna looked up and noticed her.


    "Oh, look who finally decided to wake up!" Sanna said, her voice chipper and bright. "I made you a smoothie for your headache. Judging by how much you drank yesterday, I figured you¡¯d be hungover. These smoothies used to clear them right up, remember?"


    Sheri stepped into the kitchen, still stunned. Her mother... smiling? Talking softly? Food laid out on the counter... and the smoothie, waiting just for her?


    "I figured you¡¯d be feeling a little unwell, so I called the school this morning and gave them a heads-up. You¡¯ve got the day off."


    She sat at the island, staring at the smoothie and the meal. Part of her wondered if it had been poisoned. Nothing about this was normal.


    "Mum... what happened yesterday? You seem to be in a really good mood," Sheri asked cautiously.


    "I¡¯ve been holding it in, but I just can¡¯t anymore," Sanna replied, barely containing her excitement. "It happened last night, a few hours after the event ended. The fundraiser itself was a success, no problems there, but honestly, I thought I had failed. I didn¡¯t manage to convince anyone to invest in the business. No matter what I proposed, it was like they had already made up their minds."


    "But then, I received news, a VC firm has decided to invest in us! In exchange for fifty percent, they¡¯re willing to clear all our debts and offer us a line of credit for whatever we need! Do you understand, Sheri? We¡¯re going to be okay. The family, the business, all of it, we¡¯re going to be okay!" her mother exclaimed, rushing over and embracing her in a tight hug.


    In that moment, the two of them broke down into tears, but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness. All the weight that had been pressing on their minds was beginning to lift.


    "Does this mean... I don¡¯t have to suck up to Chad anymore?" Sheri asked, wiping away the last of her tears.


    Her mother looked away. The guilt was clearly eating at her, but she gave an answer.


    "There¡¯s no need to do that anymore. Someone out there is really looking out for us."


    Despite the flood of relief, one question still tugged at Sheri¡¯s mind. She had been spared the worst of her mother¡¯s wrath, but that didn¡¯t explain everything.


    "Mom... what happened yesterday?" Sheri asked. "Did Max call you to come get me? Did he... say anything?"


    "Max Stern?" Sanna replied, scoffing. "Forget about that useless boy. You can forget about all of the Sterns, we don¡¯t need to worry about them anymore. Honestly, it¡¯s a good thing we don¡¯t have to rely on them. And Max Stern is not good enough for you, anyway. None of them are."


    Sheri let out a small laugh, but she wasn¡¯t so sure about that. From the school fight to what he¡¯d done at the event... he seemed pretty reliable. She kind of hoped she¡¯d get to see him again.


    In the middle of her thoughts, something suddenly dawned on her.


    "Wait¡ªMum, are you sure this isn¡¯t some kind of scam? What if they¡¯re trying to trick you just to get half the company?" Sheri asked, her voice filled with concern.


    "I¡¯m very sure. You don¡¯t have to worry about that," Sanna answered. "I already received the funds almost immediately. I was suspicious too, especially since they¡¯re a new VC I¡¯ve never heard of before. It¡¯s something called Billion Bloodline.Strange name, right? But I had everything checked out, everything¡¯s good."


    Sanna then clapped her hands together, a surprising brightness still lingering in her mood.


    "Honestly, the deal they offered is more than generous, and definitely in our favor. I¡¯m sure someday we¡¯ll get the chance to meet the chairman of the company, and when that day comes, I¡¯ll make sure to thank them properly. No matter what, Sheri, remember this, we are in their debt."

 Chapter 95: Billion Bloodline

    Chapter 95: Billion BloodlineThe fundraising event had turned out to be quite the evening, but not in the way Max had originally imagined. He had gone in with certain expectations, hoping to uncover answers, maybe even stir up some trouble. But instead, it had left him with more questions than anything else. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There were a few things he wished he¡¯d gotten out of it. For one, he¡¯d wanted to know if the White Tiger was more intertwined with the world of the wealthy than even he had realized. But not a single White Tiger member showed up. In fact, no gang members at all had been present.


    The second thing he had hoped for was some kind of clue, some signal, as to which family member might be out for his blood. Chad had practically screamed hostility from the moment they met. It wasn¡¯t a surprise that he was behind Dipter, not at all.


    Still, Max had hoped to see someone slip up, to catch a glance or a whisper that revealed more. But at the event, it was like no one even cared he was there. Maybe they were all too preoccupied. Maybe they were just playing it smart. But if someone truly wanted him dead, wouldn¡¯t they have acted by now?


    Third, and perhaps the most unexpected of all, was how surprised he was at himself. How well he managed to stay calm around Chad. Sure, he¡¯d wanted to punch him, maybe worse, but he didn¡¯t. And that restraint only left the question growing larger in his head: Why was Chad so obsessed with destroying him? Why go to such lengths? Max still didn¡¯t have the answer.


    But at least there was one thing that came out of all this. As Max buttoned up his school uniform and stepped out the front door into the cool morning air, he reminded himself of the one solid result.


    Aron managed to set up the company I asked for, Billion Bloodline. That¡¯s the name I¡¯ve chosen. It represents my new group, my fortune, and everything connected to it. Now that I¡¯m part of this world of wealth, I¡¯ll use it. I¡¯ll carve out my space. And soon... that name will echo, feared in the underworld and respected in the business world.


    While walking down the street, Max couldn¡¯t help but smile at himself, remembering what he had done.


    ¡¯I think that Sheri and her family will be pleasantly surprised at the gift that I handed to them, now I don¡¯t have to feel bad, but doing it through the company rather than myself is the best decision.


    ¡¯The world can¡¯t know who runs the Billion Bloodline. That way the name of the organisation will carry more weight, and I want to see something else as well.¡¯


    Max looked at his phone, and the last transaction.


    10,000,000


    It was the money that had been sent to the Curts for fifty percent of their business. Two million of it was a line of credit for them as well.


    ¡¯It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve used a large amount money, so now we can see if it really will cause a problem or not. Or whether not using the money was just a threat from Chad.¡¯ Max thought.


    Finally he had reached the outside of school.


    ¡¯Thing¡¯s will be different now at school as well. Without Dipter, it¡¯s going to be a whole different place.¡¯


    *****


    Inside the Cube, Chad was standing on the edge of the second floor and looking out at the night club. During the day it was closed and wasn¡¯t used for much, but what people didn¡¯t know was the place doubled as his home.


    There was a third floor, which he slept in, mostly during the day, since at night he would either be down in the night club himself, or at some type of hotel somewhere else.


    His lifestyle was one that many found it hard to keep up with.


    "They say the best way to cure a hangover is to drink it away," Chad said as he took a sip of his whisky and then started to swirl it around. He was still thinking about what had happened last night.


    "I can¡¯t believe that damned Max... if only Dipter was still under my control, then he would have been beaten today within an inch of his life!" Chad said. "I wonder, what should I do, what can I do to change the situation. Even if I go after that girl of his, how can I play it all into my hands."


    Just then, his security guard had walked in through the door. He had a bandage around his neck. He had been quite badly hurt during his fight with Dipter, but Chad didn¡¯t change his security, he couldn¡¯t.


    "I have some news to report to you," the security head said. "It appears that a Venture Capitalist firm has decided to invest in the Curts Family¡¯s Milk Tea business."


    Immediately, Chad turned around.


    "What, someone actually invested in that dying thing? They were riddled with debt. The interest was eating into their profits. It made no sense for anyone to invest unless they were willing to take over their debts.


    "It would be ten years until anyone would see any profit from that thing! What firm would be stupid enough to do such a thing?" Chad shouted.


    The guard paused for a moment as he allowed Chad to get his anger out.


    "The firm¡¯s name is Billion Bloodline. Their records are kept hidden, and we can¡¯t access anything publicly as they seem to have only just recently started to be active, but they are the sole company that had invested in the company."


    In anger, Chad spat on the ground as he kissed his teeth and went back to look out at the nightclub.


    "They invested the whole amount? No one would do that out of the goodness of their heart, and for it to have happened right after the fundraising event. Was it someone at the party? But no one would be stupid enough to do that," Chad continued to moan. "Oh well, I guess that means the two of them will no longer be sucking up to me. It was fun to drag them along while I did.


    "I wonder if they ever realized that they were never going to get a penny from me no matter what they did. It¡¯s just a shame I never got to go so far with her."


    "There is one more piece of information that I would like to give you," the guard said.


    Chad raised his hand to allow him to continue.


    "It¡¯s about Dipter. It appears him, and the core members that made up his group, all of them have been sent to a Juvenile Detention Centre. It appears there was an incident."


    Chad¡¯s grip loosened on the glass and it smashed against the floor.


    "You said Dipter¡¯s in juvie... no... no that means. The packages... the packages... this is bad... this is really... really bad! I have to get to Max... I have to find him now!"

 Chapter 96: My Own Gang

    Chapter 96: My Own GangSchool life had completely changed, and it wasn¡¯t just true for Max, it was true for the entire school. After catching up with Aron, Max had learned what had happened to Dipter and a few of the others who had been with him.


    The packages they¡¯d been caught with were enough evidence to pin everything on them and land them behind bars. Because of their age, they¡¯d been sent to a juvenile detention center. And it wasn¡¯t just Dipter, many of the school¡¯s class leaders had gone down with him.


    Snide and Ko, to name a couple. The police hadn¡¯t managed to catch everyone, but that was never Max¡¯s intention anyway. He only wanted to take down those responsible for what had happened to Sam, and to the real Max. In a lot of ways, he¡¯d done just that.


    The ones who hadn¡¯t ended up behind bars were back in school, but the atmosphere had shifted. The story of what happened that day had spread fast, one of the bullied kids had finally fought back. And somehow, he¡¯d won.


    Without Dipter backing them, and with some students finally facing consequences, no one was acting out anymore. The school had gone quiet.


    As Max sat at his desk, half-focused on the day¡¯s lesson, he glanced at the seat beside him, still empty, still untouched.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Sam," Max murmured. "That you didn¡¯t get to experience this kind of life. I wish I¡¯d done something sooner."


    With that, he rested his head on his desk and closed his eyes, letting himself drift into a quiet nap.


    There was a strange sense of accomplishment, his fists had actually done something good for once. It felt... nice.


    When lunch break rolled around, Max was getting ready to grab something to eat when he saw Joe walking over. He was the only person in the class who knew the full truth about everything that had happened.


    "Want to grab something together?" Joe asked.


    "You¡¯re... not gonna make me pay, are you?" Max replied, raising an eyebrow.


    Joe immediately threw his hands up.


    "No, no, of course not! Don¡¯t be crazy. It¡¯s just, you know... ah, forget it. If you don¡¯t want to eat together, that¡¯s cool."


    "It¡¯s fine. We can eat," Max said, cracking a faint smile. "But you¡¯re paying this time."


    Back when Max and Sam were getting bullied, they had been the ones forced to pay for Ko and his friends¡¯ meals. So honestly, it felt like the least Joe could do now. And as they walked, Joe realized something else.


    With Ko and the others gone, there was no one left for him to talk to, not in class, not in the whole school. He didn¡¯t have any friends. And the person he was closest to now... was Mad Max.


    The two of them walked side by side, heading down the hallway toward the exit, when they both froze. A tall figure was standing up ahead, waiting. And it was clear, it wasn¡¯t a coincidence.


    "Max, I¡¯ve been looking for you," Jay said.


    In Max¡¯s mind, he still owed Jay a favor, for pulling him out of that mess with Snide. And since then, Jay had made quite an impression on him. So Max was willing to hear him out.


    "There¡¯s something I want to talk to you about," Jay said. "About this entire school. Will you come with me... to the Cage?"


    "The Cage?" Joe repeated, surprised.


    "If it¡¯s a request from you, then sure," Max replied without hesitation.


    The Cage was a location on school grounds, so Max didn¡¯t think much of it at first. But the moment he stepped outside and saw what was waiting for him, he realized the situation might be a lot weirder than he¡¯d expected.


    Standing around in the Cage were a bunch of students, all talking among themselves. Some were playing dumb games and laughing loudly, while others were wearing slings and bandages, clearly part of the group that had attacked Max and the others not long ago.


    Jay, Max, and Joe stepped into the Cage, and as soon as they did, the noise cut off. The students turned and stared at Max. No one said anything. They just waited, for Jay.


    "Right here," Jay said, gesturing around them, "are all the school¡¯s delinquents. At least, the ones who used to be under Dipter."


    He paused, sweeping his hand toward the roughly thirty students surrounding them.


    "They¡¯re the ones willing to hear out my proposal."


    "Our school, Max, it¡¯s different from the others," Jay began, his voice steady but heavy. "And I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve realized this, but it¡¯s the kind of place where scum like us are free to run wild. A school where people like us... we don¡¯t really have a future."


    He paused, eyes scanning the crowd around them.


    "Before Dipter showed up, a lot of the local street groups used to keep an eye on this place. They¡¯d scout for potential fighters and recruit them straight into their gangs."


    "These kids accepted it," he added with a shrug. "Because, truthfully, there wasn¡¯t anything else for them. I was in the same spot myself."


    Max understood exactly what Jay was talking about. He¡¯d heard rumors of street-level gangs recruiting directly from schools, but it always sounded too extreme, too far removed from reality. That was before he¡¯d experienced firsthand just how rough things really were for some of the students here.


    "It wasn¡¯t just this school either," Jay continued. "The local schools around here would constantly go after each other, starting fights to prove who was the best, who was the strongest. But it was all for show. Just a way to prove to the people on the streets that we were worth bringing in."


    Jay¡¯s hands clenched slightly as he spoke.


    "But when Dipter came along, he changed everything. Instead of us fighting each other, or other schools, he wanted to build something right here. His own group. His own gang. Something that could protect us."


    Jay glanced at Max, his expression serious.


    "And I liked that idea... I really did. But in the end, there was still one thing the street gangs could offer that Dipter never could. Do you know what that is?"


    There was a pause, but even Joe knew the answer.


    "It was the money," Joe said. "Dipter had a wealthy client. He practically turned the school delinquents into a mercenary group for hire... and he paid them all."


    Max already knew exactly how that client had the funds to hire them in the first place.


    Jay took a step forward. "I¡¯ve gathered everyone here because, Max, after seeing everything you did, we need someone to lead us. Someone to protect us from the other schools. With Dipter gone, things are already starting to stir up."


    He hesitated, then added honestly, "But I¡¯ll be real with you. Without some kind of payment... I don¡¯t think we can stop them from walking away."


    Jay¡¯s eyes locked onto Max¡¯s, his voice unwavering.


    "If you can solve that problem, then every single person here will follow you, just like they followed Dipter. Including me."


    A few voices rose from the group in support, chanting, hyping up what Jay had just said.


    Now I get it, Max thought. It was never about blind loyalty to whoever was strongest. It was about survival, about choosing the best option they had. The best opportunity. If I can build this group from the ground up... this might be the weapon I need to go after the White Tiger. And it starts right here.


    Max smiled and placed a firm hand on Jay¡¯s shoulder.


    "Don¡¯t worry about the money," he said confidently. "Money¡¯s not a problem. Whatever Dipter was paying you... I¡¯ll match it."


    With that, Max turned and looked out at the crowd of students, all eyes now fixed on him.


    "Everyone here has a choice!" Max shouted, his voice ringing through the Cage. "You can choose whether to stay with me, stand by me, and live a better life starting tomorrow!"


    He paused, letting the silence build before continuing.


    "You¡¯ll be rewarded for your loyalty. But if you stab me in the back... then I promise, a fate worse than death will wait for you. But if you stay, if you stay, you¡¯ll achieve things beyond your imagination. This doesn¡¯t have to stop at school or street gangs. That¡¯s just the beginning!"


    The students listened, stunned. No one had ever spoken to them like this before, not with this kind of power or confidence. And somehow, it was working. It was inspiring.


    "If you leave now, I won¡¯t remember you," Max said. "And no one else in this world will care what you do. But for everyone who stays... you¡¯ll become part of something new. A new name. A new force."


    He raised his voice, loud and clear.


    "You¡¯ll be part of the Billion Bloodline!"


    If anyone else had said those words, it might¡¯ve sounded like some cringey fantasy from a middle school kid trying too hard. But coming from Max, with the strength he¡¯d shown, with everything he¡¯d already done, it didn¡¯t sound like a joke. It sounded real.


    "Very well!" Max said, after seeing that no one had left. "You¡¯re no longer just student delinquents. You¡¯re no longer some stupid playground bullies." sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His eyes swept across the group.


    "Each one of you is now a member of the Billion Bloodline, and you¡¯d better remember it."

 Chapter 97: The Rejected Corps

    Chapter 97: The Rejected CorpsHaving just found out that Dipter was in juvie, Chad went into full panic mode. Sweat was already dripping down the side of his face, and his skin felt clammy like he was burning from the inside out.


    "Dustin! We have to move now! We have to find Max Stern! I... I need to figure out some way to, some way to..."


    He couldn¡¯t even finish the sentence. The words caught in his throat like static. But even without saying them, Chad was already moving, storming toward the door.


    His head of security, Dustin, didn¡¯t hesitate to follow. The two of them rushed down the stairs, footsteps loud and quick.


    "At this time of day, Max should still be near the school," Dustin said. "But we won¡¯t be able to just blindly enter the premises without a solid reason. I could try to convince the principal to let us in."


    "I don¡¯t care!" Chad snapped. "Force your way in if you have to. It¡¯s just a regular school!"


    "If that doesn¡¯t work, then fine, we¡¯ll wait for him. But we¡¯re not leaving without seeing Max."


    They were halfway across the dance floor, almost to the exit, when the doors suddenly burst open with explosive energy. The two guards stationed inside jumped forward, but before they could even react, both were slammed backward, flung across the room and sent skidding across the polished dance floor like rag dolls.


    "Chad!" a voice called out.


    A tall man stepped through the open doors, wearing a striped shirt, a fitted waistcoat, and a tall black top hat perched on his head. On either side of him were two men, both wearing berets. They weren¡¯t trying to hide, they were making a statement.


    "It appears you were in quite the rush to leave," the man in the top hat said coolly. "Did you know I was coming? Were you trying to escape me?" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Several of the guards inside the nightclub, what was left of Chad¡¯s personal security, immediately sprang into action. The two who¡¯d been thrown aside were already getting back on their feet, injured but still willing to fight. More guards moved in, surrounding the trio.


    "No, wait! Stop!" Chad shouted, throwing out his hand.


    These men were his own, loyal and battle-scarred. They¡¯d already taken hits from Dipter and his crew, but they hadn¡¯t broken. Not yet. They were still able to fight. Still able to protect.


    However, Chad knew the truth deep down, if his security team couldn¡¯t handle Dipter, then they had absolutely no chance against these people.


    Before the guards could even rush forward, a large group of men, at least twenty, entered the nightclub behind the first three. Each of them wore the same signature beret, moving in with precision. The sight caught the guards completely off guard, but instincts kicked in, and they tried to fight back.


    The newcomers moved swiftly, weaving around the incoming attacks with practiced ease. With smooth, coordinated movements, they struck, kicks to the legs and knees, sharp hits to the sides of their faces, taking each guard down in seconds. It was clean. Clinical. Efficient.


    Dustin stood frozen in disbelief.


    The high schoolers from earlier had managed to take down his trained team, but at least that had been a struggle. This, this was something else entirely. These men were operating on another level, making the entire thing look effortless. What shook him even more was how perfectly synchronized they were, moving as if they¡¯d been trained to operate like clockwork.


    "Who are these people?" Dustin asked, his voice low.


    "They¡¯re... a street gang," Chad answered, his voice dry and tight. "The man in front, he¡¯s called Chrono. He¡¯s their leader. The group¡¯s known as the Rejected Corps."


    "A gang?" Dustin blinked in disbelief. "This is who you¡¯ve been dealing with?"


    "Correct," Chad replied, eyes fixed on Chrono. "But they¡¯re not just any gang. Their name carries weight, because every single one of them is ex-military. All kicked out of their units for one reason or another. We don¡¯t stand a chance against them."


    Chrono, the man at the front, was easily the best-dressed among them, striped shirt, polished waistcoat, and that unmistakable top hat. With his sharp eyebrows and calm expression, he looked more like a businessman than a gang leader. His hands were spread casually at his sides as he strolled forward.


    "You know," Chrono began, circling Chad like a hawk, "I was quite disappointed when I heard that our product never made it to any of our customers."


    His tone was smooth, but every word carried a quiet threat.


    "So I looked into it. I was hoping, just hoping, that maybe I could still recover it. But as it turns out..." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "The students you used? They¡¯ve all been locked up. And the product?"


    He stopped in front of Chad.


    "Now it¡¯s in the hands of the police."


    "Dipter was his name, right?" Chrono said, his voice oddly casual. "I really liked that kid. You know, I had my eye on him. We have a rule in our group, we only take in those who are like us. But he was different. Special. So special, I was even willing to make an exception."


    He paused, his tone sharpening. "So now I have to ask, what the hell went wrong?"


    Chrono stopped walking and turned, locking eyes with Chad, expecting a straight answer.


    "I have no idea!" Chad blurted out, panicked. "I just found out about it seconds ago, I swear! I didn¡¯t know Dipter lost the product or anything like that. I was on my way to figure it out myself!"


    "Oh, I see," Chrono replied smoothly. "And I can tell you¡¯re telling the truth..."


    He gave a cold smile.


    "Because if you weren¡¯t, I¡¯m sure I would¡¯ve gotten a call from you first, right? That would have been the smart thing to do."


    Chrono¡¯s smile disappeared.


    "After all, let¡¯s not forget, you owe us. You¡¯re swimming in debt, Chad. That¡¯s the only reason you¡¯re working for us. And now, thanks to this little disaster... your debt just got bigger."


    With a snap of his fingers, Chrono gave the signal. The men in berets began exiting the nightclub one by one, silent and disciplined, until only the two flanking him remained.


    "Don¡¯t worry about finding out what happened," Chrono said calmly. "We¡¯ll handle that. Someone decided to mess with our business. So now, we¡¯ll either find a new supply route... or eliminate the problem."


    He stepped closer again, eyes never leaving Chad.


    "Truth is, Dipter had already come to us. He asked us to cut you out, wanted to work with us directly. We had a deal. Everything was set. And now it¡¯s ruined."


    Chrono tilted his head slightly, mock curiosity flickering across his face.


    "Makes me wonder... did you find out? Did you try to sabotage it?"


    He took another step forward. Chad instinctively raised his hands, shielding his face, flinching like a man expecting a punch.


    But it didn¡¯t come.


    "No, it couldn¡¯t have been you," Chrono said, turning away. "You wouldn¡¯t dare make a move."


    He glanced over his shoulder one last time, voice low and final.


    "After all, we both know the truth, Chad. The Stern family can¡¯t protect you. Or rather... they won¡¯t."

 Chapter 98: Growing The Gang

    Chapter 98: Growing The GangSchool had ended, and Max was already laying the groundwork for something new, something he would call the Billion Bloodline.


    If he wanted to uncover the truth about what happened inside the White Tiger, he couldn¡¯t just rely on others. He had to build a group powerful enough to face them head-on. Something of his own.


    Hiring a security team or outsourcing the job to another gang? That was never going to work, especially for someone like him. Too many questions would be raised. People would doubt his legitimacy. And more often than not, those who were hired ended up betraying their clients anyway.


    Even when he¡¯d visited a group like the Pit, things could have easily gone sideways. No one ever really knew who was backing who. Street gangs were unpredictable. Loyalties were bought and sold every day, and money alone was never enough to guarantee safety.


    That¡¯s why Max had decided to create something new from the ground up. And this... this was just the beginning.


    In high school, the only thing I can rely on is what I¡¯m building now, Max thought, heading down the hallway toward the gym. It was time to fall back into his routine.


    In the past, his old body, his old experience, would¡¯ve been more than enough to take down someone like Dipter. He wouldn¡¯t have needed to rely on underhanded tricks. Thankfully, Dipter had believed he was several levels above Max in every way... and that arrogance had led to his downfall.


    It¡¯s going to take time to get my body back to what it used to be, Max thought, but maybe I need to focus on more than just strength. Maybe I need to learn something new too.


    Back in the day, when Max rose through the ranks, he¡¯d done his fair share of fighting. But the higher he climbed, the less he had to do it himself. As the White Tiger transformed, from a local street gang to a full-fledged organization, he started relying more on others. They had used smaller gangs to do their dirty work. And once they evolved into a true syndicate, they hardly lifted a finger.


    Maybe... maybe that was my biggest mistake.


    Getting too comfortable... too complacent, Max thought. If I had stayed sharp, even those who betrayed me wouldn¡¯t have been able to lay a finger on me.


    He wasn¡¯t much of a boxer, though. And while Steven was definitely skilled, Max knew he needed to train beyond that level. He¡¯d seen street gangs with members far more dangerous, fighters who made the people around him now look like amateurs.


    "Which is exactly why I need to stay focused on my plan," Max muttered under his breath. "I just hope my new familydoesn¡¯t get in the way too much."


    "You look like you¡¯ve got a lot on your mind," Joe said, appearing by his side. "Guess that¡¯s what happens when you become the leader of an entire school."


    He let out a dramatic sigh.


    "Man, all of them hanging on your every word... But hey, the best part? I¡¯m getting paid more than the rest of them. That makes me like the sub-captain of the group, right?"


    Max had been cautious about that.


    He hadn¡¯t increased the amount the other students were being paid, not yet. All thirty members were still receiving the same deal they had under Dipter: two hundred dollars each per month. That had been Dipter¡¯s original rate.


    But Max knew the real problem wasn¡¯t now. It would come later.


    If I want the Billion Bloodline to exist beyond high school, Max thought, I¡¯ll need to start paying them real wages. Something they can live on.


    Running a gang, at least the kind of gang he was planning, was starting to feel a lot like running a business. Right now, with thirty core members, he was paying out $6,000 total every month. That was manageable. But Dipter hadn¡¯t treated everyone the same. Some of his more important members had earned more.


    One of them was Jay. His paycheck had been $1,000 a month.


    When Joe found out about that, he came to Max immediately, demanding a raise. And to be fair, Joe had been doing a decent job so far.


    Reluctantly, Max agreed.


    That meant, to keep the Billion Bloodline running in its current state, Max was paying out a total of $8,000 a month.


    Normally, with rent, daily necessities, and the cost of the gym they were now using, that would¡¯ve put him way over the $20,000 monthly allowance he received from his grandfather. But things weren¡¯t exactly normal anymore.


    Finally, Max and Joe arrived at the gym. The metal shutter was already pulled up, and even from outside, they could hear the rhythmic thudding of someone hammering away at a punching bag. The hits were fast. Sharp. Heavy.


    Walking in, they spotted Steven right away. He was in his usual red jogging bottoms, shirtless, his gloves landing solid strikes on the bag with relentless force.


    He didn¡¯t stop, not right away.


    But eventually, as sweat dripped down his body and his breathing got heavier, he paused and glanced over at the two entering.


    "You¡¯re hitting that bag harder than usual," Joe said, raising an eyebrow. "What, you think it¡¯s gonna spit out money or something?"


    Steven let out a half-hearted chuckle and walked over, wiping his face with a towel.


    "No, it¡¯s not that..." he muttered. "I¡¯ve just got a lot on my mind."


    He looked down at himself and shook his head.


    "After what happened last time, getting nearly taken out by a high schooler, I realized I¡¯ve been slacking. Big time. I mean, look at me."


    Steven jabbed at his midsection, hitting the soft layer of fat that had formed over time.


    For a regular guy, he was still in solid shape. But it wasn¡¯t the body he used to have, the body of an athlete in his prime.


    "I¡¯m kind of embarrassed by how it all went down," Steven admitted. "I can¡¯t let something like that happen again. I need to stay sharp. Stay ready."


    Steven paused, falling silent. It looked like he had more to say, something weighing on his mind, but before he could speak, the sound of the door opening pulled his attention away. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hey, hey! What¡¯s he doing here?" Steven shouted, pointing toward the entrance.


    The person who had just walked through was none other than Jay Woods.


    "It¡¯s nice to meet you again," Jay said politely, bowing his head slightly. "I want to apologize for last time. Given the situation, we ended up on opposite sides... but moving forward, I hope we can work together. I believe we both have a lot we can learn from one another. You were strong, one of the strongest I¡¯ve ever faced."


    Immediately, Steven¡¯s face turned red. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to hide the blush.


    "Well... at least you brought a polite one this time," Steven muttered. "Not like that damn Aron who¡¯s always trailing behind you... But wait, what do you mean working together?"


    Before Max could answer, the gym door opened again. One after another, several students began walking in. They were a rough-looking bunch, most of them slinging their bags onto the floor without a care. A few were chewing gum loudly, and others were openly mocking the smell of the place.


    Max just smiled.


    "I brought you a group of brand-new customers," he said, motioning toward the students. "I want you to train every single one of them... teach them how to fight."

 Chapter 99: How Much Money?

    Chapter 99: How Much Money?The students couldn¡¯t stop commenting on how run-down the gym looked. Some openly questioned if there was any real benefit to being there at all. But before their complaining could get out of hand, Jay¡¯s voice cut through the noise.


    "Everyone, shut it and move!" he barked. "Put your stuff over there and get changed, PE uniforms, same ones you wear for school. Now!"


    It became immediately clear: these students listened to Jay. Maybe not as much as they had listened to Dipter, but it was close.


    Once they returned, now in uniform, Steven gave a few quick instructions to Joe.


    "Start them off with a warm-up. Ten minutes of running laps, then some basic hand-eye coordination drills."


    Steven watched them for a moment, then gave Joe a pat on the back before walking off. He was leaving the warm-up to him, at least for now. Joe had trained with Steven a few times, and that made him the best option for the beginning stages.


    But not everyone in the group was on board.


    "What the hell? Why should we listen to him?" one of the students muttered, eyeing Joe.


    "Isn¡¯t he just another delinquent from class? How¡¯s he supposed to teach us anything about fighting?"


    Joe spun around, instantly fired up.


    "Oi!" he shouted. "Show some respect! Don¡¯t forget, I¡¯m the guy who bested Ko!"


    He jabbed a thumb proudly at himself.


    "Who?" one student asked.


    "I think he was the head of one of the classes... part of that Power Ranger trio or whatever."


    "Shut up!" Joe snapped. "Look, I know I was weaker than Ko, but because of this place, because of the training, I managed to beat him. So if someone like me can do that, then every one of you can too. So listen up!"


    Behind Joe, Jay stood silently with his arms folded, watching. The students noticed, and quickly started to straighten up. If Jay was backing Joe, then maybe it was time to stop complaining.


    Meanwhile, Steven had retreated into the back office. There was one old computer there, sitting on a dusty desk. Steven sat down and dropped his head into his hands, fingers tangled in his hair, looking like he was one frustrating breath away from ripping it out.


    "What¡¯s wrong? Is it because none of these guys are paying?" Max asked, leaning against the doorframe. "You know how much I pay for a membership, right? It¡¯s more than enough to cover all of them. In a regular gym, what would they be paying, thirty a month? You¡¯re still doing better than most."


    "I know, I know..." Steven sighed. "You¡¯re paying me enough. And honestly, this whole setup would¡¯ve been fine, if this had all happened when I first bought the gym. But..."


    His voice trailed off.


    The truth was, Steven¡¯s debts had spiraled out of control. He¡¯d taken out one loan to cover another, and the interest from all of them had stacked on top of each other like a crushing weight. Now, just barely scraping by with minimum payments on each one, it was a miracle he was even still standing. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I¡¯m worried about what comes next," Steven admitted, eyes heavy. "I found out recently that this building? It¡¯s been bought out by a new landlord. And you know what usually happens next, they raise the rent. I¡¯m already hanging by a thread here. If they increase the rent, then that¡¯s it. This place goes under... even with everything you¡¯ve been paying me."


    Max listened carefully. He knew the amount he was giving Steven, especially with the bonus for taking out Dipter¡¯s crew, should¡¯ve been more than enough. Which meant there was only one possible reason why even a rent increase would be a disaster.


    Debts.


    Even with the bonus I gave him, Max thought, he¡¯s still in deep. They must be massive.


    But there was another reason Max wasn¡¯t rushing to pay off Steven¡¯s debts.


    Control.


    Those debts were the only reason Max could keep Steven loyal. Without that leverage, without that pressure, Steven never would have agreed to fight by his side against Dipter and the others.


    Steven wasn¡¯t loyal to Max. He was loyal to the money, and because of his situation, that loyalty came with limits. Max understood that. Which was exactly why it was best to keep things the way they were.


    Max reached out and placed a hand on Steven¡¯s shoulder.


    "Don¡¯t worry about it," he said with a calm smile. "I won¡¯t raise the rent. I¡¯ll just take it out of your paycheck instead."


    With that, Max turned and walked away, leaving Steven frozen in place.


    Still tugging at the sides of his head, Steven blinked as the realization started to hit him.


    "Wait... raise my rent? What¡¯s he talking about?" he muttered aloud. "That can¡¯t be right. Hold on, does that mean... Max is my new landlord?!"


    Meanwhile, Max strolled back onto the gym floor, watching the students go through their drills. Some were already throwing sharp punches, others shadowboxed with intensity. They had always enjoyed fighting, but now, with proper training, they wouldn¡¯t just be brawlers.


    They¡¯d become feared.


    This is it, Max thought, pulling out his phone. The true beginning, the foundation of the Billion Bloodline.


    He opened his finance app, reviewing his recent spending and overall situation.


    I get a $20,000 monthly allowance. Right now, the group costs me $8,000, and the gym another $10,000. But I¡¯m now getting $2,000 back as rent. That just about balances things out for the month.


    Then he scrolled through his one-billion-dollar fund, the pool of resources he was pulling from for his grand plan.


    I spent $500,000 bribing the school board, enough to put the principal in my back pocket. Another $500,000 went into greasing the palms of key police officials. Everything else was handled by Aron, and thankfully, that came at no extra cost.


    Then there was $10,000 to cover hospital bills, another $10,000 to legally set up the Billion Bloodline Corporation.


    After that, I bought fifty percent of Curt¡¯s Boba Tea business for $8 million, along with a $2 million line of credit.


    And lastly, I bought this commercial building for $480,000.


    He sighed, scrolling down.


    And don¡¯t forget the bonuses I handed out, and the payment to the Pit. Altogether, let¡¯s round that off at about $120,000. Then there was the gift to Sam¡¯s Parents.


    Out of all the money... I still have plenty left.


    [987,380,000]


    The number flashed on Max¡¯s phone screen, an amount so large it didn¡¯t even feel real. It was more money than he could truly comprehend, and the craziest part was, nothing had gone wrong since he started spending it.


    The commercial building, Curt¡¯s Boba Tea business, all of it had been purchased through the Billion Bloodline Corporation. Now that everything was in place, Max could finally spend freely. No more careful tiptoeing.


    Things were going to change.


    Oh... and there it is.


    His phone buzzed with a fresh notification.


    [-3,000,000]


    My latest purchase just went through, Max thought, eyes gleaming. How exciting.


    He slipped the phone back into his pocket, a small smile forming on his lips.


    This is going to be the start of something... very interesting.

 Chapter 100: Who Has The Most Money?

    Chapter 100: Who Has The Most Money?The Stern Manor wasn¡¯t just large and luxurious, it was iconic. A one-of-a-kind estate with history carved into every stone wall and wooden beam.


    It was the kind of manor that rarely, if ever, came up for sale. And when it did, money alone wasn¡¯t enough to buy it.


    For places like this, the price wasn¡¯t determined by who could offer the most cash. If it were, the value would spiral into absurd territory, far beyond what the property was actually worth.


    No, buying a manor like this required something else: influence. Power. A presence in the business world strong enough to pull the right strings and apply pressure in all the right places.


    And when it came to influence, the Sterns were unmatched.


    Currently, inside the grand meeting room of the estate, the same room where Dennis Stern would normally gather with his board of directors, there were only two people present.


    Dennis, and Fred.


    Dennis sat at the massive, polished table, large enough to seat thirty people comfortably. Instead of working from his personal office, he had spread out numerous documents across the table¡¯s surface, files, printouts, charts, photographs.


    "I know everything¡¯s done digitally these days," Dennis muttered, running a hand along the edge of the table, "but I can¡¯t process things the same way unless it¡¯s all laid out in front of me. I need to see it."


    He reached out and picked up one of the files.


    Attached to the inside was a photo of Max, clipped neatly in the corner. Underneath it, several sheets of paper were stacked, each one filled with information.


    "Max, Max, Max..." Dennis shook his head, staring down at the photo. "You spent so long ignoring the money... and because of that, I was curious. Genuinely curious what your first move would be."


    He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing.


    "But I just don¡¯t understand them."


    "Your heart softening, Max?" Dennis muttered to himself. "Did you finally give in to the woman who left you to save her business? And then this, what¡¯s this nonsense?"


    He flipped through another page.


    "You¡¯ve been buying up several commercial buildings... Fred, did you find out anything about these places?"


    "I did," Fred replied, stepping forward. "All the buildings he¡¯s purchased are within a ten-mile radius of his apartment. The land value isn¡¯t high, so the properties themselves are relatively inexpensive."


    He paused.


    "There is one thing all the buildings have in common."


    That caught Dennis¡¯s attention. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.


    "They all contain gyms," Fred said.


    "A gym?" Dennis echoed, confused. "So... that¡¯s it? Max¡¯s grand plan is to open a chain of gyms? But none of them are in prime locations. The land isn¡¯t worth much either."


    He leaned back in his chair, expression shifting.


    "Is he just trying to build something sustainable and quietly disappear? Or is he seeing something far beyond what we can understand, something years ahead?"


    Dennis let out a small sigh and stretched out his hand for another file. This time, when he opened it, a photo of young Chad Stern stared back at him. Dennis¡¯s reaction was immediate, he shook his head in disappointment.


    "Out of all my heirs... the one I¡¯m most disappointed in is him," Dennis muttered. "I didn¡¯t even foresee something like what happened to him... maybe I should¡¯ve kept a closer eye."


    "You gave all of them the same opportunities," Fred said calmly. "There¡¯s only so much you can do."


    Dennis didn¡¯t respond right away.


    Instead, he flipped the folder shut.


    "Have you managed to gather the rest of the data I asked for?" he asked, his tone returning to business.


    "I have," Fred replied, straightening up. "It¡¯s time for our monthly evaluation. And despite you always saying you prefer things on paper... you still ask me to do this."


    He pressed a button on the remote in his hand, and a quiet mechanical hum filled the room. A large screen began descending from the ceiling.


    Moments later, a projector beamed light across the room, casting a crisp display onto one of the manor¡¯s walls.


    Just like with the physical files, an image appeared in the corner, this time, it was Cici, Dave¡¯s daughter.


    "Cici hasn¡¯t spent much of the money at all," Fred began. "Outside of her own personal comfort, of course. She¡¯s bought a house, pays for gardeners, and has been looking into sustainable projects."


    Fred gestured toward the screen as details highlighted Cici¡¯s investments.


    "These are low-maintenance ventures, things she can manage with little effort while continuing to live comfortably on her own. It¡¯s fair to say she¡¯s one of the few who¡¯s chosen not to engage in the chaos surrounding the rest of the family."


    A warm smile spread across Dennis¡¯s face.


    Among all his grandchildren, he found Cici the most pleasant to talk to, mostly because her interests weren¡¯t centered around money or power. She had a calmness about her, something different.


    Still, for a man like Dennis, who loved talking about money more than almost anything else, her attitude was also a refreshing change of pace.


    "Next," Fred continued, tapping a key on his tablet, "we have Bobo, Karen¡¯s daughter."


    Her profile filled the screen.


    "She¡¯s spent a significant portion of her fortune, roughly two hundred million." sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Dennis¡¯s brows lifted slightly.


    "However," Fred continued, "her spending has been smart. She¡¯s investing in herself, building her personal brand, even paying for her own publicity. She¡¯s also put money into several biotech companies."


    Fred paused, scrolling through a few more slides.


    "If any of those companies achieve a breakthrough, it could lead to massive profits."


    Dennis leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with interest.


    Out of all the heirs, he believed Bobo was the most intelligent. The issue wasn¡¯t her mind, it was how fast the money was moving.


    He glanced at the files again. Not all of it looked good.


    There were things Bobo had swept under the rug, things that, if brought to light, could destroy her reputation entirely. It was good to be ruthless in business, but she hadn¡¯t been burned yet. That was a lesson she might come to learn... eventually.


    "Next," Fred continued, "we have Karen, mother to both Chad and Bobo. As for her, she¡¯s lost most of her fortune investing in her designer brand and luxury malls."


    Dennis let out a quiet sigh.


    "Then there¡¯s Dave Stern," Fred said, switching the slide. "Currently, he¡¯s the chairman of a competing water company. He¡¯s lost some wealth trying to buy up your competition. A brave move, if I do say so myself."


    Dennis folded his arms, letting out a low chuckle.


    "Brave or foolish, we¡¯ll see which."


    Fred moved on.


    "Now we have Donto. Among the youngest heirs, he¡¯s made the most money so far. He¡¯s become what people call a ¡¯social influencer.¡¯"


    A video clip flashed briefly on the screen, Donto posing in front of exotic cars and branded workout gear.


    "His following and lifestyle have led to several sponsorships," Fred explained. "Not just in his sport, but in various other industries. Ironically, some of them are areas our own company hasn¡¯t tapped into yet."


    Dennis nodded thoughtfully.


    "We also have Marsha," Fred added. "She¡¯s founded a highly successful venture capitalist firm and has a sharp eye for investing in start-ups. Many of them have already turned a strong profit."


    "And lastly," Fred said as he swiped to the final profile, "we have Randy Stern. Out of everyone in the family, Randy has made the most income."


    Dennis¡¯s expression changed the instant Randy¡¯s name was spoken. He reached for Randy¡¯s file, opening it with tense fingers, only to find a single photo inside.


    No notes. No breakdowns. No paper trail.


    "And it¡¯s the same as usual?" Dennis asked, eyes narrowed.


    Fred gave a slow nod.


    "The same as always," he said. "We still have no idea where he¡¯s earning his money... or what he¡¯s actually doing."


    The final slide of the presentation appeared on the screen, displaying a ranked list of the Stern family¡¯s financial standings, rounded to the nearest million, from lowest to highest.


    Right at the bottom were two names, listed with nothing but question marks.


    Max Stern (???? - Figures not updated)


    Chad Stern (???? - Figures not updated)


    Karen Stern: $490,000,000


    Bobo Stern: $675,000,000


    Dave Stern: $893,000,000


    Cici Stern: $952,000,000


    Donto Stern: $1,254,000,000


    Marsha Stern: $4,465,000,000


    Randy Stern: $12,126,000,000


    "At any point, these numbers could change," Dennis said, his voice quiet but firm. "They have the money, and the skill, to make that happen."


    He paused, eyes locked on the screen.


    "But I still haven¡¯t seen what I¡¯ve been waiting for. Not a single one of them has surpassed me. Not yet."


    He stood up from his seat, the room suddenly heavier with tension.


    "Eventually, one of them will," he continued. "And when that day comes, when someone finally rises above me... I¡¯ll start worrying about the knives waiting to stab me in the back."


    He walked to the far end of the table and opened the final file, the one bearing his own name.


    Inside was a single photograph.


    Dennis Stern: $21,788,000,000

 Chapter 101: Somone in Charge of the Money

    Chapter 101: Somone in Charge of the MoneyAfter finishing a full workout at the gym, Max returned to his apartment. But unlike most weekdays, someone was already there waiting for him.


    Aron Stern.


    As soon as Max stepped through the door, he tossed his gym bag into the corner without a second thought. He walked over to his desk and dropped into the office chair, spinning it around so he could face Aron, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.


    "Your latest purchase seems to have gone through," Aron said calmly. "Which is good news, but it¡¯s also why I think you should seriously consider my proposal."


    "Right..." Max leaned back in his chair, catching his breath. "You told me before I even asked you to handle this, that as the Billion Bloodline grows, we¡¯ll need someone to manage all the financial operations."


    He began ticking off the responsibilities on his fingers.


    "Handling company paperwork, tracking purchases, following up on new investments and acquisitions... all of that, right?"


    "Correct," Aron replied with a nod. "So far, I¡¯ve managed to keep everything running through... certain means. But the truth is, doing all of that splits my focus."


    He looked Max directly in the eye.


    "And I¡¯d rather not be distracted. My job, my real job, is protecting you."


    Max gave a slow nod. He understood the situation perfectly.


    Even in the underworld, every major organization had someone behind the curtain. The financial brain. The one who kept things stable. The one who handled the books, managed the businesses, moved the money.


    They weren¡¯t usually the ones on the front lines, but they were just as important. Without them, the entire machine fell apart.


    The real question now was, who could Max trust?


    Whoever he brought in to help with the finances would know everything: the full truth about his wealth, what he was building, who he really was. That person would have to keep quiet about the shady side of things too, when money was funneled into something not exactly legal or business-friendly.


    This wasn¡¯t just about numbers. It was about loyalty.


    "I know what you¡¯re thinking," Aron said, standing up and brushing off his suit with both hands. "And I¡¯ve already done some research into that."


    Max raised an eyebrow, waiting.


    "There¡¯s a financial advisor who lives nearby," Aron continued. "And not just that, he¡¯s actually related to someone from your school. Do you happen to know a girl named Cindy?"


    "Cindy?" Max repeated. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A mental image formed instantly, short blonde hair, sharp attitude. He¡¯d only met her a couple of times, but one moment stood out clearly in his mind.


    Back when he was injured, she was the one who took him to her uncle¡¯s pharmacy. She¡¯d helped him, really helped him. That moment had stuck with him more than he¡¯d realized.


    "It turns out," Aron explained, "her father is a financial advisor. He works for a mid-sized firm, mostly handling clients with wealth in the hundred-thousand range. But with you being close to his daughter, I think you could ask for an introduction. She might be able to help connect the two of you."


    Max didn¡¯t answer right away.


    He thought about it.


    And kept thinking, even into the night. He knew he needed a financial advisor, someone to help manage the increasingly complex web he was building. And if that person was close to someone he already had a connection with, that gave him some level of trust. Some leverage.


    But... I don¡¯t want to make the same mistake Dipter did, Max thought. He used Abby like a tool, something to manipulate me. I can¡¯t do that to Cindy. I won¡¯t.


    Still, the fact that the advisor wasn¡¯t extremely wealthy or deeply embedded in any criminal networks? That was a goodthing. It meant they were less likely to be tied to anything, or anyone, dangerous.


    Eventually, the next day at school rolled around.


    Max stepped into the classroom, scanning the room casually. His eyes landed on Abby and Cindy, sitting together and sharing lunch at their usual spot.


    The moment Max entered, several boys in the classroom immediately stood up a little straighter. A few even gave small, respectful bows in his direction.


    He ignored them.


    When Max walked over to the girls¡¯ table, one of the nearby boys quickly swiveled his chair out of the way to let him pass, almost as if making room for royalty.


    "What the heck is going on?" Cindy asked, raising an eyebrow. "First of all, I think this is the first time you¡¯ve ever come to talk to us. And second... why are all the boys acting like you¡¯re some kind of king?"


    "I told you what happened that day, remember?" Abby whispered. "And you¡¯ve heard what everyone¡¯s been saying. It¡¯s been all over the school."


    Cindy turned and looked Max straight in the eyes. She couldn¡¯t believe it.


    She had seen him plenty of times before, shoulders slumped, head down, running around delivering food for other students. That version of Max looked like someone just trying to survive. But now... now he was being treated like the top delinquent in the school?


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    "How have you been, Max?" Abby asked gently. "I heard about Dipter and the others. That they were sent away. The school feels... different now. Better. Has it been better for you?"


    "Yeah," Max replied, his voice steady. "Things have definitely gotten better... but they¡¯re not back to normal. And I don¡¯t know if they ever will be."


    A quiet pause fell over the table, awkward and heavy.


    Max felt it. Abby felt it too.


    She had known the old Max, the one who avoided eye contact, the one who got pushed around. This version of him, the person sitting across from her now... he felt like a stranger.


    "I think I should leave you two alone," Cindy said suddenly, pushing her chair back from the table.


    "No, wait!" Max said quickly, reaching out and grabbing her hand before she could get up.


    Cindy froze for a second, glancing over at Abby.


    Then she gently pulled her hand away.


    "The reason I came over," Max said, looking directly at her, "was because I needed to talk to you."


    "M-Me?" Cindy stammered, her face turning red. She could already feel Abby looking away, her head lowering slightly.


    "Yeah," Max said, his voice calm. "I was wondering... if you could introduce me to your father."


    A loud thud echoed through the classroom.


    Abby¡¯s head had smacked against the desk, hard. For a second, it looked like she had completely collapsed.


    "Abby! Abby!" Cindy panicked, shaking her by the shoulders. "Hey, are you okay?!"


    Other students, who had clearly been eavesdropping, started whispering immediately.


    "Is this a love triangle or something?"


    "Yeah, looks like it. And between two best friends? That¡¯s the worst kind."


    "Man, I wonder who stole who."


    "I¡¯ve been telling you, girls always go for the bad ones. And now that Max is basically the head delinquent, of course two best friends would be fighting over him."


    Cindy ignored the gossip and kept trying to wake Abby.


    "You idiot!" she snapped at Max. "Look what you¡¯ve done! What do you mean you want to see my dad? Couldn¡¯t you explain it a little more seriously?!"


    "Sorry," Max said, scratching the back of his neck. "I want to meet your father... to talk to him about my situation."


    Finally, Abby stirred. She lifted her head, blinking slowly, but her body was still limp, like a puppet with the strings cut.


    Cindy¡¯s mind started to race.


    Wait... didn¡¯t Dad say he was an advisor to people with serious money?


    She glanced at Max.


    Then she remembered something her uncle had once mentioned, about a hospital bill.


    And suddenly... things started to click.


    Maybe, she thought, I¡¯ll finally figure out what¡¯s really going on with Max.

 Chapter 102: Help Me With My Finances

    Chapter 102: Help Me With My FinancesAfter listening to Max¡¯s request, Cindy made a call to her father and arranged for him to meet her after school.


    The meeting place was a cozy coffee shop not far from campus. Cindy had asked Abby if she wanted to come along, but Abby, still emotionally drained from earlier, politely declined. She understood the situation, but it clearly still stung, so she chose to head home.


    Now, Cindy and Max were seated in a quiet corner of the spacious caf¨¦. The place had a warm vibe, with cushioned backrests, a sleek counter, and a glass display case filled with colorful desserts.


    Cindy returned to the table holding two drinks, one in a ceramic mug, the other in a plastic cup.


    "Don¡¯t worry, I paid for this one," she said, sliding the mug over to Max with a grin. "I hope you remember this in the future."


    She beamed at him, and Max blinked, unsure how to react. He wasn¡¯t used to someone just buying him something, especially not without expecting anything in return. Even back when he was the leader of the White Tiger, that kind of simple kindness had been rare.


    "Thanks," Max said, surprised but genuine.


    Just as Cindy was about to take her seat, the chime above the caf¨¦ door rang out. She turned her head and saw a man step inside, a well-dressed figure in a crisp blue suit, his blond hair neatly parted to the side.


    "Dad! Over here!" Cindy called, waving him over.


    Her father approached, carrying a leather briefcase in one hand. He gave Cindy a quick hug with the other before turning to look at Max.


    "This is the student I was telling you about, Max," Cindy explained. "He said he wanted to talk to you about finances."


    Her father gave Max a polite nod and extended his hand for a handshake.


    "My name is Warma," the man said, offering Max a warm handshake. "And sorry if Cindy¡¯s caused you any trouble at school. I know she tends to yap a lot."


    He gave a soft, teasing smile before sitting down across from Max.


    "So, since I brought you a client, do I get a commission?" Cindy asked, grinning as she held out her hand.


    "A client?" Warma chuckled nervously.


    She can¡¯t seriously think she brought me a real client, he thought. She was practically begging me on the phone to come meet some kid from her school.


    Still, with a reluctant sigh, Warma reached into his wallet and handed her a card.


    "Don¡¯t go crazy," he said, shaking his head. "Only one item."


    Cindy beamed as she took the card and skipped off, leaving the two to talk.


    Warma turned his attention back to Max.


    "So, Max," he began, folding his hands on the table. "Cindy said you wanted to talk about finance. I have to say, it¡¯s pretty rare for someone your age to start thinking seriously about money, but it¡¯s a smart move. Honestly, this is the best time to start."


    "I appreciate that," Max said with a small nod. "I reached out because I wasn¡¯t just looking for someone who understands how to manage money... but someone who knows how to move money, how to structure it properly."


    He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.


    "If I were your client, and let¡¯s say I had access to a large amount of wealth, what could you do with it? Could you help set up certain... structures?"


    Warma¡¯s smile returned, but it was different this time, sharper, more intrigued.


    Just from this short exchange, it was already clear to him: he wasn¡¯t talking to an ordinary high school student.


    "I¡¯ve worked with a variety of clients," Warma explained, settling into a more professional tone, "including those in large corporations. So yes, it¡¯s something I can handle."


    He paused, gauging Max¡¯s reaction before continuing.


    "We could start with something basic, like investing your wealth in index funds and setting up tax-efficient structures. Or, if you¡¯re talking about opening companies abroad or managing mergers, I can assist with that as well."


    He leaned back slightly. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "While some areas aren¡¯t my direct specialty, I have the right contacts. I can get things done."


    Max nodded thoughtfully, then began asking more questions. Detailed ones. Most were about business, how structures worked, the legal requirements behind moving money, and the kind of paperwork needed to set up companies.


    Warma couldn¡¯t help but feel a little confused.


    He had expected the usual: What¡¯s the best way to grow my money? How can I get rich fast? But Max didn¡¯t ask about any of that.


    Instead, his questions focused on Warma, what he could do, what services he had access to, and what he could set up.


    Is this kid interviewing me? Warma wondered. It feels like I¡¯m trying to sell myself to an actual client.


    After a while, Warma let out a deep sigh.


    "Look," he said honestly, "I¡¯ll be straight with you. I only came here because Cindy asked me to. I figured I¡¯d do a favor for one of her classmates."


    He gave Max a look, measured, unsure.


    "As interesting as this conversation has been... you don¡¯t really expect me to take you on as a client, right?"


    From his perspective, Max was just a high school student, just another kid who happened to go to school with his daughter. The idea of treating him like a real client felt like a complete waste of time.


    Max didn¡¯t flinch.


    "And what if I am serious?" he asked calmly. "Are you saying you wouldn¡¯t accept me? I thought you said you had the skills to manage any amount of wealth. Isn¡¯t that what you told me?"


    Warma let out another long sigh.


    "When we manage people¡¯s finances at this level," he began, "we typically work off commission, a percentage of the client¡¯s total assets under management."


    He folded his hands and leaned forward.


    "I¡¯ll cut to the point. The people I deal with usually have wealth in the hundreds of thousands, sometimes into the millions. Most of our firm¡¯s clients are earning six figures annually."


    He paused, then corrected himself with a slight grimace.


    "Well... not my clients specifically. The firm¡¯s. I¡¯m on a salary, so it¡¯s not like I¡¯m swimming in money either. That¡¯s why Cindy goes to a public school."


    Max gave a small nod.


    "Oh, I see. My apologies."


    He reached down beside him and pulled out a brown leather case. Setting it on the table, he slid it across to Warma.


    "Maybe I should¡¯ve started with this," Max said calmly. "Then our conversation might have gone a little differently."


    He tapped the top of the folder once.


    "This is what you¡¯d be handling... if I were your client."


    Warma opened it half-heartedly, expecting to see some basic figures or maybe a few savings bonds, nothing that would justify the serious tone Max had carried through their conversation.


    But as his eyes scanned the documents, something shifted.


    His heart skipped a beat.


    A tingling sensation shot through his chest as the numbers in front of him clicked into focus.


    Then, unable to hold it in,


    "HOW MUCH?!" Warma shouted, shooting up from his seat.

 Chapter 103: Too Much Money

    Chapter 103: Too Much MoneyWarma had jumped out of his seat, eyes glued to the file in his hands. His sudden outburst startled a few nearby customers in the caf¨¦, drawing curious stares.


    Embarrassed, he quickly sat back down across from Max, who remained completely calm, casually taking another sip from his drink.


    "This number..." Warma muttered, still staring down at the page. "This can¡¯t be real. You¡¯re playing some kind of joke on me, aren¡¯t you, kid?"


    He looked up, disbelief written all over his face.


    "I can¡¯t believe kids these days. Was my daughter in on this? Did Cindy put you up to this?"


    Max smiled slightly as he looked Warma straight in the eyes.


    "I liked your reaction," Max said. "And I liked that your first instinct was to think it couldn¡¯t be real. That¡¯s exactly how I want people to think."


    He leaned forward, his voice calm but confident.


    "The idea that a normal school kid couldn¡¯t possibly have that kind of money? That¡¯s what I want to preserve. That illusion is powerful, and I need someone who can help me keep it intact."


    Max rested his hands on the table.


    "That¡¯s why I want you to handle everything. I need someone to make sure that perception stays exactly the way it is."


    He paused, then added:


    "Of course, you¡¯re free to think this is all fake. But when I give you full access, you¡¯ll know for yourself whether it¡¯s a lie or not."


    His tone was steady, almost too calm for the weight of the words he was speaking. It made everything feel even more surreal.


    Warma glanced down at the file again. The numbers hadn¡¯t changed. He double-checked anyway, flipping through the pages.


    No mistakes. And then, the thought hit him, What if this is real?


    If Max was offering him the position of personal financial manager... even a half percent of a figure like this would change Warma¡¯s life forever. He could retire early. Live in luxury. Secure Cindy¡¯s future ten times over.


    But another thought crept in, clawing at his logic.


    If a kid actually had this kind of money, wouldn¡¯t I have heard of him? Why me? Why now? Is this just because he goes to the same school as Cindy? Is that all this is, a convenience?


    Knowing this, knowing that someone with this much wealth was walking the same school halls as his daughter, if it was all true... it made Warma uneasy.


    "I need to know more before I even consider getting involved," Warma said carefully. "First of all, if this money is real... how does a kid like you even have access to something like that?"


    Max¡¯s expression changed immediately. His face tensed ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm.


    "When you eventually look into the finances," he said, "you¡¯ll see my real name. And once you do, you¡¯ll understand everything."


    He leaned back in his chair.


    "But since you haven¡¯t agreed to anything yet, I¡¯m not telling you right now. Not while you still have those kinds of questions."


    Warma¡¯s brows furrowed.


    "Then why?" he asked. "Why are you doing all this? Why me?"


    Max leaned forward, his eyes focused. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Exactly. That¡¯s the kind of thinking I was hoping for. You¡¯re not just financially smart, Warma. You¡¯ve got some street smarts too."


    He tapped the table once.


    "Why would I pick you instead of the top financial firms in the country? Why would someone like me be attending the same school as your daughter in the first place? All of those questions... those are exactly why I can¡¯t tell you everything yet."


    He paused, then nodded toward the file.


    "But what I can tell you is this, I¡¯ve documented everything I¡¯ve done so far with the money in there. It¡¯s all outlined, minus a few sensitive details."


    Max¡¯s tone shifted, more serious now.


    "And now I have a question for you: are you willing to work the same way? If not, then we pretend this conversation never happened. You walk away, and that¡¯s that."


    He gave Warma a moment to process.


    "But if you are willing... then you¡¯ll become part of this. And if things continue the way they are, what you saw in that file? It¡¯s just the beginning."


    There was a silence between them. Warma felt the pull, curiosity getting the better of him. Max¡¯s words had weight, his voice too smooth, too precise for someone his age. It didn¡¯t make sense. None of this did.


    Warma was used to being the one who convinced others. The one who made the pitch. As Warma flipped through the file, he could see everything, documented, detailed, and organized.


    But some things stood out.


    There were payments made that didn¡¯t appear to have any return. Transactions that were... questionable. And investments that, from a traditional standpoint, didn¡¯t make much financial sense.


    The firm owns fifty percent of Curt¡¯s Family Boba business... he read silently. This information isn¡¯t public. Our firm¡¯s never seen anything about this deal, but with the kind of money Max has, I suppose it adds up. Still... why?


    Then it clicked.


    Wait... didn¡¯t Cindy mention something a while back? A girl transferring to their school from the Curt family?


    The investment still didn¡¯t make sense, at least not from a professional angle. But looking at it through another lens...


    If this was about helping out a friend, Warma thought, then it¡¯s a stupid move. No financial advisor would ever recommend it. But with the kind of money Max has... he could afford to burn it.


    Oddly enough, that realization made Warma look at Max more favorably.


    He turned a few more pages and found additional business purchases that were equally unusual. Some of them looked more personal than strategic.


    "You do know," Warma said, finally breaking the silence, "with the amount of money you have, you could just live comfortably for the rest of your life?"


    "I do," Max replied, his voice steady. "And if you accept this deal, there will be a pool of money for you to manage however you see fit. It¡¯ll be yours to grow and play with, just like it is for me."


    Warma stared at him for a moment longer, then slid the papers back across the table.


    "If that¡¯s the case," he said, "and if everything you¡¯ve told me is true... then I accept, Max."


    He extended his hand. Max took it and shook firmly.


    "But," Warma added, his tone suddenly more serious, "I want you to make sure my daughter stays out of all of this. I don¡¯t want Cindy involved in anything dangerous. Promise me that."


    Max nodded without hesitation.


    "There¡¯s no reason for her to be. Abby... maybe. But Cindy? She¡¯s just Abby¡¯s friend."


    A few minutes had passed, and Warma was still sitting in the coffee shop, quietly lost in thought. In his hand was a sleek business card with a private number, one he could call to begin setting everything up.


    He couldn¡¯t stop smiling to himself.


    Is this really happening? he thought. Is it all real? Who is that kid?


    He kept replaying everything Max had said, trying to make sense of how someone so young could be in control of that kind of money.


    Just then, the bell above the door chimed again. Cindy returned, a small shopping bag swinging from her hand. Of course she¡¯d bought something, she never passed up a chance when given the opportunity.


    She rushed over and slid into the seat across from her father.


    "So?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward. "How was it? He¡¯s rich, right? I knew you¡¯d be surprised!"


    Warma smiled, but it didn¡¯t stop there.


    He started chuckling... and then laughing outright as he stood up from his seat.


    "Come on," he said. "Let¡¯s go home."


    "Wait, what about Max?" Cindy called after him, hurrying to keep up. "What did you two talk about? Did you agree to anything? Is he actually rich?"


    Warma turned to glance over his shoulder, a neutral look on his face.


    "He¡¯s not rich," he replied casually.


    Cindy blinked, confused. "He¡¯s not?"


    But as Warma turned away, heading for the exit, he mumbled under his breath with a shake of his head:


    "You have no idea how much money that boy has... he¡¯s filthy rich."

 Chapter 104: The Bloodline Grows

    Chapter 104: The Bloodline GrowsThe days at school had been going smoothly for Max. With no trouble circling around him, he could finally focus on one thing, building his new empire: the Billion Bloodline.


    There were a lot of moving parts, but with his past experience from the White Tiger, Max was placing down the stepping stones, small but calculated moves that would eventually evolve the group into a fully organized crew. His vision? To transform the Billion Bloodline into something the underground world would recognize as an Elite Syndicate.


    Sitting at his desk, Max scribbled notes across his notebook, barely paying attention to the lesson. Not that the teacher ever asked him to participate anymore.


    If Billion Bloodline grows strong enough to become an elite syndicate, Max thought, maybe we¡¯ll get an invitation this time. And if that happens... it could finally be my chance to meet the White Tiger face-to-face.


    With that thought, he continued outlining plans, his next targets, investment ideas, and key roles he¡¯d need to fill.


    Elsewhere in the school, Abby and Cindy were chatting as usual. And, unsurprisingly, the topic of conversation was the same person it had been for weeks now.


    "I promise you, nothing happened," Cindy said. "I didn¡¯t even talk to Max one-on-one."


    "I know," Abby replied with a soft smile. "I trust you, Cindy. We¡¯ve been friends too long. If you ever actually liked Max, I know you¡¯d tell me."


    Cindy let out a laugh and playfully bumped her shoulder against Abby¡¯s.


    "So that means you do like him, huh? Finally admitting something." Her voice turned teasing, but there was warmth behind it. "But I swear, my dad still won¡¯t tell me anything about what they talked about. And what little he did say doesn¡¯t make any sense."


    She shook her head. "I¡¯m telling you, Abby... you¡¯ve picked a really mysterious guy to fall for."


    After school ended, Max headed to the gym like usual. A few of the students from the Billion Bloodline were already there, training hard, but not as many as the day before.


    People had their own lives, even delinquents. Not everyone could be at the gym every day, and Max understood that. But for him, the focus wasn¡¯t just training his crew, it was getting his body back to what it used to be.


    After finishing his intense workout, Max left the gym and made his way back to the familiar coffee shop, the same one where he¡¯d first met with Warma. Sure enough, Warma was already there, sitting in the exact same seat by the window, watching people pass on the street.


    "I¡¯ve got everything you asked for," Warma said as Max sat down. He slid a thick file across the table.


    "I still can¡¯t believe it," he added, shaking his head. "The finances... the accounts... everything you told me, it¡¯s all real."


    He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.


    "And I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re, "


    Max held up a hand before the sentence could go any further.


    "Remember," he said calmly, "there¡¯s a reason I¡¯m doing things the way I¡¯m doing them."


    "Right," Warma nodded. "And I get some of it now."


    He exhaled and sat back in his chair.


    "But as your financial planner and advisor, I have to admit... I still have no idea what your endgame is."


    He opened his own copy of the file and pointed to the notes inside.


    "First, you gathered a list of all the surrounding gyms in the area, and then bought the buildings and the gyms inside them."


    He flipped the page. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not only that, but you paid more than their appraised value in every case. Altogether, you¡¯ve spent three million dollars to acquire six different gym properties."


    Max said nothing, letting him finish.


    "In this folder is everything you asked for, company contacts, renovation costs, even a manufacturer who can handle merchandise production if that¡¯s the route you¡¯re taking."


    Warma looked up, serious now.


    "I just want to know... what¡¯s your plan here? Are you starting your own chain of gyms? Is that why you want to rebrand and renovate all of them?"


    He leaned forward slightly.


    "That would make some sense, establishing a brand image. But the way you¡¯re doing it... the way you¡¯ve chosen the locations... it doesn¡¯t add up."


    Max smiled as he leaned back in his seat, thinking through the plan again. Three million dollars, gone in an instant to purchase six different gyms, including the one Steven currently ran.


    Each gym was strategically placed around the area, not just near their own school, but close to other schools as well. They were all tucked into one of the most rundown parts of Notting Hill City. The land wasn¡¯t valuable... at least, not yet.


    It wasn¡¯t a glamorous district, and that was part of the plan.


    Some of the students from the Billion Bloodline hadn¡¯t shown up to train that day, and Max understood why. For a few of them, the gym wasn¡¯t exactly close to home.


    "I¡¯ve got a lot of new clients lined up," Max said casually, "people like me. Students."


    Warma blinked, a little thrown by the answer.


    "Students? Do they even have money to spend?" he asked. "And since you asked me for a manufacturer... don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re planning to make merch for your gyms too? That seems like a bit of a stretch."


    "I¡¯m not worried about that," Max replied, cool and confident. "Part of joining the gym will be buying the merch. It¡¯s built into the signup process, mandatory. It¡¯ll drive brand awareness whether they like it or not."


    Warma gave him a strange look and raised an eyebrow.


    "That kind of sounds like... scamming them."


    He shook his head after a moment, realizing he didn¡¯t know enough to judge.


    What Warma didn¡¯t know was that Max paid everyone in the Billion Bloodline directly. As part of the group, he planned to have each member register at one of his gyms. And not just register, but wear the brand.


    Uniforms, jackets, shirts, gloves, all stamped with the Billion Bloodline name.


    It wasn¡¯t about profit, not yet. It was about control.


    The money Max paid them would cycle back into his system, creating a loop. A subtle one. And since he was their leader, they¡¯d listen. A few dollars out of their pockets wasn¡¯t enough to make anyone leave.


    Not when they were finally part of something that mattered.


    "The issue is," Max began, his eyes calm and calculating, "you¡¯re looking at everything from a financial point of view."


    He leaned forward slightly.


    "For me... it¡¯s all about territory."


    Warma didn¡¯t respond right away, listening as Max continued.


    "I¡¯m not stopping here. This is just the beginning. All of the gyms are going to operate under one name, The Bloodline Gym."


    There was a spark of certainty in Max¡¯s voice. He already knew who he wanted running the operation.


    "I have someone in mind to lead it. Someone who would love the opportunity to be the head of the business."


    That person was Steven. Max had no doubt he¡¯d jump at the chance. Not only did Steven already run one gym, but he also knew people, people he could trust to train other delinquents in each area.


    Max moved fast. Renovations had already started.


    Signs were being placed up all around the city. Workers covered old logos and storefronts with fresh branding, catching the eyes of everyone walking by.


    It all happened in a single day.


    Locals stopped to watch as something new took shape in their neighborhood, large banners and painted windows bearing a bold, stylized logo: a droplet of blood with the image of a diamond sitting at its tip. Below it, a dollar sign was pierced through the center by a sword, and at the top of the design was the sharp silhouette of a serpent¡¯s head.


    Beneath the symbol, in bold lettering, were the words:


    The Bloodline Gym


    Delinquents across the area took notice. The sudden change. The bold design. The energy.


    And they didn¡¯t hesitate.


    They signed up for the gym without a second thought, proudly using their "funds" to buy the merch, jackets, gloves, shirts, and more.


    They could feel it in their bones. They weren¡¯t just a bunch of kids anymore.


    They were becoming part of something big.

 Chapter 105: Bloodline Power

    Chapter 105: Bloodline PowerThe order had gone out to every member of the Billion Bloodline, a requirement if they wanted to stay part of the delinquent group and continue receiving their payments.


    Every member had to sign up at one of the six Bloodline Gyms located around the city and pay the joining fee out of their own pocket. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The first requirement didn¡¯t bother them much. In fact, most of the delinquents enjoyed the training. Working out gave them something to focus on, a place to bond, to push each other, to feel like they belonged to something real.


    The second requirement? Every member had to buy at least one piece of gym merch, a T-shirt, a gym bag, whatever they wanted, and wear it both in the gym and outside of school.


    Again, there was almost no pushback.


    For once, they weren¡¯t being forced into something meaningless. The merch wasn¡¯t just clothing, it was a symbol. It made them feel like they were part of the same crew. A family.


    In the school cafeteria, Max sat at one of the corner tables with Joe sitting across from him. Beside them, leaning in with a calm confidence, was Jay, there to give an update.


    "Sixty-three," Jay said. "That¡¯s the total number of people now in the Billion Bloodline."


    Joe¡¯s eyes widened.


    "Wait, what? It went up since we met at the cage? How?"


    There was a hint of worry in his voice.


    Joe knew Max was paying everyone out of his own pocket. And with more people joining, he feared it might affect his own cut.


    "It¡¯s because of the rules you set up," Jay explained. "There were a lot of students who weren¡¯t sure at first... but when they saw others rocking the merch, showing up at the gym together..."


    Jay smirked.


    "I think they felt like they were missing out. Like they weren¡¯t part of something big. So they accepted the terms and joined up."


    "Crazy," Joe said, shaking his head. "Who would¡¯ve thought gyms using the same group name would just pop up everywhere? Total stroke of luck. And making everyone wear the same stuff? That was actually pretty genius."


    Max didn¡¯t say anything, but he could feel Jay glancing at him. They both knew better, it wasn¡¯t luck. None of it was. Every gym, every branded T-shirt, every little rule that made the group feel tighter, it was all part of Max¡¯s design.


    Jay didn¡¯t press it. He knew the money wasn¡¯t coming from nowhere, but if Max wanted to keep the details close to his chest, then that was his choice. Jay had already decided to follow his lead.


    Across the table, Max caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of the head. Just enough for Jay to understand: Let it go.


    "Our numbers are up, and people are feeling stronger about the group, but... there¡¯s something you should know," he said. His voice was lower now, quieter. "It¡¯s Clapton High. They¡¯ve been sniffing around."


    Joe frowned. "Clapton? The school closest to us?"


    "Yeah," Jay said. "Some of their guys have been scouting our areas."


    Max raised an eyebrow. "Our areas?"


    Jay nodded. "Territory."


    Max had heard that word before, back in the White Tiger days, when territory meant something serious. But this was school. Teenagers. Delinquents with egos. Still, the way Jay said it didn¡¯t sound exaggerated.


    "Remember what I told you," Jay continued. "Dipter kept the other schools in check. Since he¡¯s gone, Clapton sees an opening. They think we¡¯re weak now. They¡¯ve been showing up where our guys hang out. Watching. Waiting. They haven¡¯t started anything, but it¡¯s obvious they¡¯re planning to."


    He paused, letting the weight of that settle.


    "If they make a move and beat us, it¡¯ll send a message to everyone else, that Clapton¡¯s the strongest school around here."


    Max let the information sink in. Just when things were starting to settle, more pressure was creeping in from the outside. It was almost enough to make his head ache.


    I really didn¡¯t want to deal with another mess, he thought.


    But part of him was curious.


    If the Billion Bloodline has a weakness... maybe it¡¯s talent. We¡¯re growing in numbers, yeah, but real strength? That¡¯s something else entirely.


    Out of everyone in this school, Max thought, Jay¡¯s probably the only one who could hold his own against an actual gang.


    If Clapton High really was trying to move in on them, this could be more than just a defense, it could be an opportunity.


    A chance to find other strong students. A way to expand. If I take down their leader and offer them the same deal I gave everyone else...


    The idea played over in his mind.


    The Billion Bloodline could grow even more. A giant gang made up of high school delinquents, unified under one name... It¡¯s insane. But it¡¯s also the kind of thing no one would ever see coming.


    Jay spoke up, breaking Max out of his thoughts.


    "I have a suggestion," he said. "I think we should strike first. Hit them before they hit us. It¡¯ll stop our people from getting hurt and send a clear message to the other schools: don¡¯t mess with us."


    Joe¡¯s expression twisted immediately. He didn¡¯t like the sound of that at all.


    He raised a hand. "Wait, what if we just hire the Pit again? They helped us last time. Maybe they can handle Clapton for us too?"


    Max shook his head.


    "That won¡¯t work," he said. "If the Pit handles it, Clapton will fear them, not us. We need to start handling our own problems now. And besides... who¡¯s going to pay them?"


    He glanced at Joe with a smirk.


    "I could always take it out of your wages. But that might leave you broke for a while."


    Joe immediately raised both hands. "Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion."


    Jay leaned forward. "So... should I call everyone? We can head there now. I know it¡¯s just lunch break, but if we show up in the middle of the day, it¡¯ll make an even bigger impact."


    Max narrowed his eyes, considering it. "Attacking a school in broad daylight... won¡¯t that cause problems? I mean, if the entire group leaves campus at once, won¡¯t someone notice?"


    Jay shrugged. "It didn¡¯t in the past."


    Max couldn¡¯t help but wonder what kind of teachers were running these schools. Had they just given up on controlling their students altogether? Or maybe it was something else. Maybe Dipter had the staff in his pocket, and the same could be true for these other schools.


    It wouldn¡¯t surprise him.


    "I¡¯ve got a better idea," Max said, his voice calm but firm. "I¡¯ve been training just like everyone else. We want to make sure they¡¯re scared of us, right?"


    He looked up, eyes sharp.


    "We want them to think we¡¯re even more dangerous than Dipter ever was."


    There was a flicker of something in his expression, calculated, determined.


    "It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve actually used my fists," Max added. "So how about this? Just the two of us. We go alone. We take them out ourselves."


    Jay raised an eyebrow, surprised.


    But Max was serious. His tone, his posture, everything about him said he wasn¡¯t joking.


    If the Billion Bloodline was going to be feared, respected, followed, then he needed to show exactly what kind of leader he was.

 Chapter 106: The Bloodline Attacks!

    Chapter 106: The Bloodline Attacks!When Max said the two of them, he meant himself and Jay. Before slipping out of school, they¡¯d both stopped by their lockers to grab their hoodie jackets.


    Max had planned ahead, for exactly this kind of situation. The jackets had Billion Bloodline scrawled across the back, with a bold logo: a blood drop fused with a dollar sign. Hard to miss.


    They were thin and light, easy to move in. The hoods weren¡¯t perfect disguises, but if needed, they could at least cover their heads.


    Now they were walking side by side, heading down the street toward Clapton Street.


    Getting out of school had been a breeze. Max had even texted the principal, just a quick message to make sure they¡¯d still be marked present in the system.


    "Why didn¡¯t you want to bring Joe with us?" Jay asked. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Because I need people I can count on," Max said. "Joe¡¯s getting better, but he¡¯s not strong enough yet. I¡¯ve got a good sense of your strength."


    That wasn¡¯t the full truth. Part of this was a test, Max wanted to see just how strong Jay really was. He needed to know. Things were coming, and he had to be sure.


    Up ahead, they could see the open gate. The school had a massive playground out front.


    Kids were everywhere, some playing baseball, others kicking around a football, some just hanging out and talking like it was any normal lunch break.


    And it was lunch break. So yeah, normal.


    "So what¡¯s the plan?" Jay asked.


    "Plan?" Max repeated. "The plan is to let them know we¡¯re here."


    Max stepped forward, Jay a few feet behind. He pulled his hood over his head, and Jay followed his lead.


    The two of them walking side by side caught attention fast. A bunch of kids looked over, watching. Eventually, one of them stepped out from the crowd, hands in his pockets, heading straight toward them.


    His shirt was untucked, and his hair looked like it hadn¡¯t seen a brush all day.


    "Hey! I¡¯ve seen those clothes before!" the student shouted. "That¡¯s what the kids from that stupid school have been wearing lately... So what, you came here to mess with us?"


    He glanced behind him, spotting more students heading over. But when he turned back around, bam, a fist was already flying at his face. It connected clean, sending him straight to the ground.


    "If you¡¯re gonna run your mouth, maybe don¡¯t keep your hands in your pockets!" Max shouted.


    He looked up at the crowd gathering, most of them frozen, stunned by what just happened.


    "We¡¯re the Billion Bloodline," Max announced, voice sharp. "We took down Dipter and his crew. And now you clowns think just ¡¯cause Dipter¡¯s gone, you¡¯ve got a shot? Alright then, let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got!"


    A group of about twenty students broke into a run, charging at Max and Jay. It was two against twenty. No room for mistakes.


    Max didn¡¯t hesitate, he sprinted toward them, jumped, and drove a kick straight into one guy¡¯s stomach. Before the student could recover, Max nailed him with an uppercut.


    More fists came flying, but Max weaved through them, ducking, sidestepping, slipping through the chaos. He spun, kicked low, and swept another student¡¯s legs out from under him. They hit the ground hard.


    Jay was right, Max thought, moving through the madness. These kids are throwing punches in the middle of lunch like it¡¯s normal. These schools are rotten to the core.


    Meanwhile, Jay was handling his side. The students coming at him were more cautious. The first one to strike made a mistake, he telegraphed it. Jay stepped aside, grabbed the kid¡¯s wrist mid-swing, slammed his hip in, and tossed him straight to the ground.


    There was a heavy thud. No one was sure if they heard a crack or not, but the guy wasn¡¯t getting back up anytime soon.


    Jay seems fine on his own, Max thought. I don¡¯t need to worry about him too much.


    Several students rushed at Max, but he didn¡¯t hold back. He was ruthless, hit one straight in the throat, then spun around and slammed a powerful kick into another¡¯s stomach.


    He kept going, fists flying, hammering them hard and fast without letting up.


    I can feel it, Max thought, adrenaline pumping. My strength... it¡¯s coming back. Bit by bit. Every fight, it¡¯s like the old me is waking up again.


    Even as he moved through the chaos, Max didn¡¯t look over at Jay. He didn¡¯t have to. Even when Max took a hit, he didn¡¯t flinch, just used it as momentum, grabbing people, throwing them, slamming them down like rag dolls.


    Someone like that was under Dipter? Max wondered. In some ways, he might be even stronger. Makes me question why he was working for Dipter at all.


    He thought back to his old gang days. On the street, the strongest ruled. But higher up, in more organized groups, it was different. The leader wasn¡¯t always the strongest, they were usually the smartest.


    As Max and Jay kept fighting, something changed. They started to notice more students showing up. Some were coming out of classrooms, crowding around the playground. One kid, with thick, bushy eyebrows, stood frozen at the front window of his class, watching it all unfold.


    "What the hell is going on out there?!" Rick shouted from inside. "How are two guys taking down all of our people?! We¡¯re getting humiliated out here! Send everyone, drag them into the classroom if you have to!"


    Rick, the head of Clapton School, had finally given the order. His people didn¡¯t hesitate. A wave of students rushed out to follow it.


    Max backed up toward Jay.


    "Alright," he said, eyes scanning the mob coming their way, "looks like this is getting too big, even for us."


    "But you knew this would happen, right?" Jay said, still catching his breath. "I mean, we¡¯re attacking the whole school. You didn¡¯t really think we could take on everyone, did you?"


    Before Max could answer, another student came charging at full speed. Max stepped forward, pivoted on one foot, and whipped his body around. His side kick landed deep into the student¡¯s gut, knocking the wind out of him and launching him backward.


    That kick... Jay blinked. Was that Dipter¡¯s move? It looked almost exactly the same.


    "What do we do now?" Jay asked, eyes darting to the crowd that was closing in fast.


    "We did what we came to do," Max said. "Now we run!"


    Without wasting another second, he turned and bolted. Jay didn¡¯t hesitate, he sprinted after him.


    As they ran, Jay glanced over at Max. Even now, mid-sprint, the guy didn¡¯t look tired. If anything, he looked more fired up than before.


    Am I losing it... or is Max actually stronger than he used to be? Why is he so good at fighting...and what is his plan in doing all of this?

 Chapter 107: An Alliance?

    Chapter 107: An Alliance?Max was learning new things about Jay in real time, and one of them was just how fast the guy could run.


    Despite his size, Jay was keeping up without breaking a sweat as they tore out of the school grounds together.


    The second they passed through the front gates, most of the students behind them gave up the chase. Not everyone was brave enough to ditch class, and definitely not everyone had the principal in their back pocket like Max did.


    "Looks like they¡¯re not chasing us," Jay said, breathing hard and clutching his chest. "That was scarier than I thought it¡¯d be."


    "Yeah," Max replied, still walking. "It¡¯s scary when a whole group gangs up on one person."


    Jay knew exactly what Max was getting at. That was a direct shot at him, back when he ran with Snide¡¯s crew, when they¡¯d all jumped Max together.


    Come to think of it, Jay had never really asked how Max managed to hold his own in that situation. Most people would¡¯ve hit the floor and started begging.


    "Wait... where are we going?" Jay asked, frowning as he pointed back toward the school. "It¡¯s that way."


    "You think we¡¯re going back to class?" Max raised an eyebrow. "To do what, study? That¡¯s not the life we¡¯re living right now."


    He kept walking. "Come on. There¡¯s a good noodle spot nearby. After a fight like that, with adrenaline still rushing through us, we¡¯ve gotta refuel."


    Jay couldn¡¯t help but smile as he followed Max down the street. He didn¡¯t know what it was about him, but even though they hadn¡¯t known each other long, Max had this energy, like someone you just wanted to follow. Someone people listened to.


    They stepped into the noodle shop, both of them still in their school gear, well, kind of. Jay didn¡¯t even look like your average student. But no one asked any questions. They sat down and got their food, just two guys who¡¯d just survived a battle, now grabbing a bite like it was just another day.


    After finishing off their hearty meal, Jay¡¯s phone wouldn¡¯t stop buzzing. He picked it up and read through the notifications. A wide grin spread across his face.


    "What is it, more trouble?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "There are a bunch of popular school group chats," Jay explained. "Some of them even have students from different schools in the same thread. You could say we¡¯ve got a few spies dropping us updates."


    He tilted the screen toward Max. "Check this out. People are already talking." S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max leaned in, and when he saw the messages, he couldn¡¯t help but laugh.


    [Hey, we just got jumped by those guys calling themselves the Billion Bloodline.]


    [Aren¡¯t they the ones wearing that ridiculous gear? I saw them walk in earlier.]


    [Yeah, they say there were like fifteen of them. Just ambushed our guys right inside the school.]


    [In the middle of lunch, too. Sneaky move. We need to do something for real.]


    [I figured after Dipter was out, they¡¯d chill. But these guys? They¡¯re even more insane.]


    "Fifteen of us?" Max laughed harder. "Man, they really know how to exaggerate."


    Jay smirked. "Guess we should take that as a compliment. Just the two of us felt like fifteen to them. If they said it was only two, their own people, and other schools, might think they¡¯re weak."


    Max nodded. He was used to rumors. He¡¯d lived with stories, myths, and drama swirling around his name for a while. Maybe this was the beginning of something bigger, him and the Billion Bloodline becoming legends.


    "You think this¡¯ll be a problem?" Max asked after a moment. "I figured since it was just the two of us, and we kept our identities low-key, they¡¯d back off. Thought maybe they¡¯d get scared, start wondering if all of us were this strong."


    Jay slipped his phone back into his pocket, silent for a beat as he let the question settle in.


    "I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be a problem at all," Jay said, leaning back. "You know how people are on the internet, more bark than bite. They talk big because they don¡¯t think the people they¡¯re talking about are actually watching."


    He paused, his tone more serious. "But deep down, they know the truth."


    "They know it was only the two of us. So the fact they¡¯re still talking like this? I doubt any of them will try anything soon. You did good, better than I expected, honestly."


    That might¡¯ve been enough to settle things with Clapton High, for now. But Max wasn¡¯t hoping for peace. He wanted something bigger. He had a whole plan in mind. And this? This was just one step in a larger picture.


    Just then, Jay¡¯s phone buzzed again. He figured it was more screenshots, more gossip from the school group chats. But when he checked the screen, he blinked in surprise.


    "This one¡¯s from someone at Seaton Academy," Jay said, as if Max was supposed to know what school that even was.


    "They¡¯re saying someone from their school saw what we did at Clapton... and now they want to make an alliance with us."


    "An alliance?" Max raised an eyebrow. "What does that even mean?"


    Jay scrolled through the message. "Some schools aren¡¯t strong enough to protect themselves, especially in certain areas. The stronger schools, or the ones trying to prove something, beat down on the weaker ones just to earn street cred."


    He looked up. "Every school¡¯s got its own group of delinquents. Big or small, strong or weak, there¡¯s always someone willing to fight, even when it¡¯s a bad idea. Seaton probably wants protection. If we say they¡¯re under us, other schools might back off just to avoid us."


    Max sat in silence for a moment, his fingers steepled together, deep in thought.


    "The problem is..." he said slowly, "there¡¯s really no benefit to us. Seaton¡¯s an all-girls school."


    Max raised an eyebrow, still deep in thought.


    "I¡¯ll just tell them we¡¯re not interested," Jay said, already starting to type out a reply on his phone.


    "Wait." Max¡¯s voice cut through sharply.


    Jay looked up.


    Max¡¯s mind was spinning. Another school reaching out to form an alliance, that gave them the upper hand in this conversation. And of all places, it was an all-girls school.


    Most people wouldn¡¯t see the point. They¡¯d write it off. Say girls didn¡¯t belong in fights like this, gang conflicts where fists flew and reputations were everything.


    But Max didn¡¯t think like most people.


    He saw opportunity.


    "Tell them we¡¯ll meet," Max said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I think I just came up with the perfect idea for our expansion."

 Chapter 108: An All Girls School?

    Chapter 108: An All Girls School?Jay couldn¡¯t help wondering what kind of plan Max was cooking up. He clearly wasn¡¯t following any kind of normal student playbook. Still, Jay sent the text, and within minutes, the girls had responded with a location for the meeting.


    A short while later, they found themselves walking down the local high street. It wasn¡¯t anything fancy, not the main city strip, just the cluster of shops and hangouts in their part of town.


    The meeting spot? A bowling alley.


    It sat at the edge of a small park, tucked behind the last row of shops. Honestly, it wasn¡¯t a bad spot for an ambush. Lots of places to hide, plenty of blind corners. If Seaton was planning something shady, this was the perfect setup.


    "You worried?" Max asked, breaking the silence.


    "About Seaton?" Jay said. "Yeah. But not in the usual way."


    Max glanced at him.


    "If they tried to attack us... I don¡¯t know if I could hit them," Jay admitted. "I¡¯ve never hit a woman before."


    "Oh, a gentleman," Max said with a smirk. "Though probably a smart move in your case. With your strength, you pick someone up and slam them, they might not get back up."


    The image popped into Max¡¯s head, and yeah... it wasn¡¯t a good one. Still, he knew better than to underestimate girls. In his experience, they could be even more dangerous than the guys, just in different ways.


    Too many times he¡¯d seen promising gangs collapse, strong leaders fall apart, and it almost always had something to do with a woman.


    The bowling alley came into view, a faded pink sign buzzing faintly over the entrance. It was nearly empty, which made sense, school was still in session, and this was more of a weekend family spot than a weekday hangout.


    As soon as they walked in, it was easy to spot them, three high school girls, seated casually in the dining area off to the side, waiting.


    They were all wearing stockings and short skirts, each with brightly colored hair in different shades, but the one who stood out the most had pink hair and an eyebrow piercing. Just by the way she carried herself, it was clear she was the leader.


    Do schools these days allow anything? Max thought. Back in my day, we¡¯d have been kicked out just for showing up with dyed hair... times really have changed.


    As soon as Max and Jay stepped in, the three girls stood. The two on the sides immediately pulled out chairs for them. One of them practically shoved Jay into his seat, then ran her hands over his arms like she was inspecting a sculpture.


    "Oooh, you¡¯re built," she said, eyes wide. "You must work out a ton."


    "No, I... I mean..." Jay stammered, his face turning red. Words just stopped working.


    On Max¡¯s side, one of the girls clung to his arm, pressing close. He glanced down at her with a flat look.


    "Are we here to talk or to flirt?" he asked. "Because when I agreed to this meeting, I didn¡¯t realize you were just gonna throw yourselves at us."


    The girl pulled back instantly, rolling her eyes and scoffing as she went to sit down. The one next to Jay, though, stayed close, still clinging to his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.


    Then the pink-haired girl stepped forward. Her vibe shifted, cool, confident, in control.


    "So you¡¯re the one who took down Dipter," she said, holding out her hand. "Name¡¯s Aki. Head of Seaton Academy."


    Max shook her hand as they both sat down, eyes locking for a moment in silence.


    "And you¡¯re the leader of Seaton," Max said. "Let¡¯s skip the small talk. You want an alliance with us, right? So the other schools won¡¯t mess with you?"


    "Correct," Aki said. "Most schools around here are co-ed, but even then, most girls don¡¯t end up walking the kind of path we walk. That¡¯s what makes us valuable. Being part of our group is an attractive offer, whether people admit it or not."


    She leaned forward slightly.


    "A lot of the girls at my school? They¡¯ve been pressured, almost forced, to link up with guys from other schools. ¡¯Date them,¡¯ or become part of some twisted package deal when joining other gangs. Apparently, in the eyes of street gangs and the ones above them, girls are just... assets."


    Max didn¡¯t flinch. He understood all too well. Like he¡¯d thought earlier, women could destroy a gang from the inside, without ever throwing a punch. All it took was the right look, the right words, and a few well-placed lies.


    Plenty of guys would choose the girl over the gang. And by the time they realized they¡¯d been played, it was already over.


    "Before I agree to anything," Max said, sitting up straighter, "I¡¯ve got a few questions. And some terms."


    Aki¡¯s expression shifted. Barely. But Max caught it, her eye twitched. She was nervous about what he¡¯d ask. That meant there was something she didn¡¯t want on the table. Something she hadn¡¯t been willing to offer Dipter, either.


    Even though she was the one who came asking for the alliance, if the terms weren¡¯t right, she¡¯d walk away.


    "Do your girls have a way of making money?" Max asked. "An income stream, something steady?"


    Out of everything he could¡¯ve asked, that one clearly caught her off guard. But it also intrigued her.


    "We have our ways," Aki replied coolly. "There are a lot of sick men out there. Most of them older. Some just catcall when they see us on the street, others slide into DMs if a girl posts a photo on Instagram."


    "The thing is," Aki continued, "if we¡¯re out of uniform, dressed up with makeup on, no one can really tell how old we are. We agree to meet these guys at a hotel, and right before they try to make a move, we bust in with a camera and start snapping photos."


    She said it like it was just another part of the job.


    "Most of them have wives, girlfriends, or some reputation to protect. They don¡¯t want word getting out about what they tried to do. So we extort them, take the money, and move on. We¡¯ve never actually sent the photos out or told their families."


    Aki leaned back slightly, totally calm. "We¡¯re not in the business of ruining lives, just making enough to survive."


    She said it all so confidently. No shame. No second-guessing. Max didn¡¯t care about the morality, what mattered to him was what it meant.


    That¡¯s perfect, he thought. They¡¯re self-sufficient. I won¡¯t have to put them on the payroll. And if they¡¯ve got cash... I can move forward with my plan. Seaton¡¯s location is ideal. If we take over Clapton High, we¡¯ll form a perfect triangle across the city, control a massive chunk of territory.


    He placed both hands flat on the table, his tone shifting.


    "Alright, here are my terms," Max said. "All your girls need to sign up at the closest Bloodline Gym in your area. Out of your own pocket."


    Aki raised an eyebrow. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You need to learn how to defend yourselves. It¡¯s for your own good. Eventually, someone will try to fight back, or worse, come after you for revenge."


    He leaned in slightly, a flicker of excitement in his eyes.


    "Second, every member has to buy merch from the gym."


    Aki blinked. "You want us to... buy merch?"


    "Correct," Max said. "The merch is part of the group¡¯s identity. Soon, the name Billion Bloodline is gonna be everywhere. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already heard, we hit Clapton High. Word¡¯s spreading fast. If your girls wear our merch, people will know you¡¯re with us."


    He paused, then let out a small sigh like he was preparing to drop something big.


    "And... I want you to be models," Max added.


    A beat of silence passed.


    "What?" Aki said flatly, eyebrows raised. The two other girls looked just as confused, trading wide-eyed glances like they hadn¡¯t heard him right.


    "You want us to model... your gym clothes?" one of them asked slowly.


    Max nodded, completely serious.

 Chapter 109: Making A Movment

    Chapter 109: Making A Movment"You want us to be models?" Aki repeated. "Didn¡¯t realize you thought so highly of us." She blushed, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "But if this is about satisfying some kind of fetish, you¡¯ve got the wrong idea."


    Max couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Did these kids really think that small?


    "Let me ask you something," he said, tone shifting. "Why didn¡¯t you team up with Dipter? And how did you survive this long without an alliance?"


    Aki¡¯s expression changed, not offended, but frustrated. Max recognized the look. She wasn¡¯t mad at him, she was disappointed in herself.


    "I told you already," she said quietly. "Some of the girls couldn¡¯t protect themselves. They went looking for boyfriends from other schools just to feel safe. Either that... or get forced into something worse."


    She exhaled hard. "The reason we did what we did is simple, turns out money solves a lot of problems. You throw enough cash around, people stop paying attention. So we found ways to make it."


    The more Max listened, the more he understood. This world had changed. The rules he used to live by didn¡¯t carry the same weight anymore.


    He¡¯d once believed blood bonds, his brotherhood with the White Tiger Gang, were stronger than anything. Stronger than fear. Stronger than greed. Back then, money was just something you earned. But loyalty? Loyalty was a choice. A promise. Something you owned.


    That¡¯s why Max lived by one rule: he controlled his life. Not anyone else.


    "It¡¯s good that you think like that," Max said. "But just so we¡¯re clear, when I said models, I didn¡¯t mean it like that."


    He leaned forward.


    "You said it yourself, your girls have social accounts, right? The ones you use to bait those creeps?"


    Aki nodded slowly.


    "So tell me... how many followers do you have?"


    The girls exchanged a glance.


    "I¡¯ve got about 12,000," one of them said.


    The girl still hanging onto Jay¡¯s arm chimed in.


    "I¡¯ve got around a hundred thousand," she said, smiling sweetly. "I post a lot of skateboarding stuff. Do you like skateboarding, hun?"


    Jay blinked, unsure if she was being genuine or just trying to charm him into free protection. At this point, he couldn¡¯t tell what was real and what was strategy. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I can smell her shampoo... it¡¯s so sweet," Jay muttered without thinking.


    The second the words left his mouth, his face went bright red.


    Max raised a brow, trying not to laugh. "Alright, if we stay here any longer, this guy¡¯s gonna pass out from blushing."


    He turned back to Aki. "How about you? What¡¯s your follower count?"


    "About 250,000, give or take," Aki said coolly. "I started all of this, so most of it links back to me."


    Exactly what Max had expected.


    Even just walking in here, he could tell from how they carried themselves, their style, their confidence, the way they took control of a room. He¡¯d even searched the school name earlier, and the first thing that popped up wasn¡¯t the school itself... it was Aki.


    "Alright," Max said. "I already mentioned the two conditions for joining us. But now here¡¯s what I want specifically from you. You¡¯re going to model Billion Bloodline clothing."


    He pulled out his phone. "I¡¯ve set up a tag for our online shop. You post with the tag. People see it. They start placing orders."


    One of the girls scoffed. "What if the clothes are ugly?"


    Max didn¡¯t flinch. "Doesn¡¯t matter. You all have massive followings. Once people start seeing your posts, they¡¯ll buy it. Wear it. Copy it."


    He leaned in slightly. "Do you really think fashion is about what looks good?"


    The girls looked at each other, then answered in unison.


    "Yeah!"


    Max smirked. "Maybe when you¡¯re older. But at your age? It¡¯s not about what looks good. It¡¯s about what¡¯s popular. What¡¯s trending. What everyone else is posting."


    He sat back. "Soon, every girl in your group will be wearing the same thing, posting the same photos. That¡¯s how a brand becomes a movement."


    "Soon, it¡¯ll create a wave," Max said. "And the Billion Bloodline will be known, at least all over this area."


    "Doesn¡¯t that go against your whole idea, though?" Aki asked. "You said wearing the uniform would protect us. But if random people start wearing it..."


    "That¡¯s the point," Max replied. "If everyone¡¯s wearing it, then no one can tell who¡¯s actually part of Billion Bloodline, except for us. It¡¯s the perfect shield."


    Aki didn¡¯t know why, but her heart started to race. She¡¯d never met anyone like Max. The way he talked, so sure of himself, so composed. His plans weren¡¯t just about throwing fists. He was thinking moves ahead, building something bigger.


    "Your plan... has holes," she said honestly. "But if all you want is a few photos from us, then you¡¯ve got a deal."


    There was one thing Max had that most others didn¡¯t, he could afford to fail. He had the money to take risks and bounce back. But in his eyes, this wasn¡¯t a risk. This was the beginning of something real.


    If the Seaton girls could push sales, and he didn¡¯t even have to pay them? Then the brand was already profitable. And it wasn¡¯t just a gang anymore, it was a business.


    Max pulled out a sleek business card and handed it to Aki.


    "There are two numbers on here," he said. "The first is mine. Text me if anything comes up. I¡¯ll do the same. Clapton High might still come for us, so we need to be ready."


    He tapped the second number on the card. "This one¡¯s different. If you ever find yourself in real trouble, serious trouble, just say Max gave you this number. They¡¯ll help you. No matter what."


    With that, Max stood up and grabbed Jay by the back of the neck, yanking him out of his seat. Jay, still flustered and dazed, practically got dragged across the floor as the girls finally let go of him.


    Aki watched the two of them walk away, Jay still stumbling behind Max like he hadn¡¯t fully recovered from the encounter.


    Those two are really interesting... she thought, a small smirk forming on her lips.


    I like Dipter¡¯s replacement. Feels like things are about to change around here.


    ****


    Meanwhile, school had just let out.


    Outside, a man stood near the gates, blending in with the crowd, except for the strange beret pulled low over his head. He had a phone pressed to his ear, voice low and calm.


    "No sign of anyone matching the description, sir," he said.


    A pause. Static hummed on the other end.


    "Then move to the second most frequented location," the voice instructed. "Head to the gym he always goes to."


    The man nodded silently and walked off, disappearing into the flow of students.

 Chapter 110: The Angry Gym

    Chapter 110: The Angry GymEven though Max and Jay weren¡¯t around, the students had gotten used to the routine. They walked ahead with Joe, heading to the same familiar gym they always stopped at after school.


    When they stepped inside, Steven was there to greet them like usual.


    "The other two not with you today?" Steven asked, looking past them.


    "They had some business to deal with during the day," Joe replied. "Haven¡¯t come back yet. Don¡¯t know if they will."


    "Alright, everyone!" Steven shouted, clapping his hands. "Get ready and start your warm-up!"


    The students headed straight to the changing rooms. Once they were out of their shoes and geared up, they started jogging in circles across the training mats.


    At first, Steven had been hesitant to teach so many delinquents. The whole scene had thrown him off. But the shock wore off quick. And when he really thought about it, wasn¡¯t this what he wanted?


    His dream was to see the gym full. Kids coming in, getting off the streets, doing something with their energy instead of wasting it on games or getting into trouble.


    Sure, maybe some of them were training to be better at fighting, and yeah, they might still end up in messes. But this was still a piece of his dream becoming real. So he leaned into it, pushing himself to teach more, to guide them right.


    As the students ran, Joe jogged beside him and asked, "Hey... what¡¯s the deal with this Billion Bloodline thing? I¡¯ve been seeing the name everywhere. All these gyms popping up, and you even renamed this one. Is it like... a franchise or something? Did you start it?"


    "Me?" Steven laughed. "Are you crazy? You think I¡¯ve got that kind of money?"


    Owning a chain of gyms was way beyond anything Steven had ever imagined for himself. It wasn¡¯t even a dream he¡¯d dared to consider.


    There was only one person who came to mind. One person who might actually have the power to pull all this off. But even now, Steven didn¡¯t fully understand how Max was doing it.


    And that mystery? It was only getting deeper.


    In the middle of their conversation, Steven felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.


    "I should take this," he said, pulling it out. "Might be a while. You mind running the start of class for a bit?"


    Joe nodded. "Yeah, sure."


    He didn¡¯t mind, he¡¯d done it before. After training with Steven one-on-one for so long, he knew the routine well enough to guide the others.


    The students wrapped up their warm-up jog, and Joe stepped to the front. He led them through some synchronized motion drills, basic patterns meant to loosen the joints and build rhythm. But even as he focused on the class, his eyes kept drifting toward the changing room.


    As he walked by, just past the row of lockers, Joe¡¯s curiosity got the better of him.


    Steven¡¯s taken a few of these calls before... Who keeps calling him like this? Joe wondered. Some clingy ex? Or something worse?


    He paused near the small crack in the changing room door and leaned in slightly, just enough to hear.


    "Please, just give me a few more days!" Steven¡¯s voice was tight, desperate. "I swear things are working out this time. I¡¯ve been paying you, haven¡¯t I? Where do you think I got the money from? That means I can pay, so why can¡¯t you just wait a little longer?"


    There was silence on the other end, and then Steven¡¯s frustration burst through louder.


    "Do you guys even want the money or not?! Because it¡¯s starting to sound like you don¡¯t!"


    Joe¡¯s eyes widened. He pulled back slowly.


    "Damn," he whispered. "He¡¯s in serious trouble."


    He always knew Steven wasn¡¯t rich, but even with all the money Max had funneled into the gym, the guy was still struggling? It had to be more than bills. This sounded like something else entirely.


    Maybe he¡¯s in one of those bad deals... Joe thought. Loan sharks. Gangster types. The kind of people you don¡¯t mess with.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t his place to keep listening. The pain in Steven¡¯s voice made it feel too personal, too real.


    Joe quietly stepped away.


    I just hope he doesn¡¯t have to shut the gym over this... Joe thought. Didn¡¯t he say something about a new landlord owning the place now? Guess the whole thing¡¯s more complicated than I realized.


    Suddenly, Steven¡¯s voice exploded from behind the door.


    "Did you forget who I am?! Who do you think you¡¯re threatening?!"


    Joe flinched. That shout was loud enough for others to hear.


    Just in case Steven came out any second, Joe hurried back to the training mat, slipping into leader mode.


    "Alright, everyone, let¡¯s move on to pad work!" he called. "Remember, if you¡¯re holding the pads, pair up with someone at least two weight classes above you."


    One student raised an eyebrow. "That still feels weird. Aren¡¯t we always told to train with people in our own weight class?"


    Joe didn¡¯t miss a beat. "Are you dumber than me?" he shot back. "Were you even listening when Steven explained this?"


    He stepped forward, voice steady.


    "There¡¯s a difference between competition boxing and using boxing practically. In a tournament, yeah, everything¡¯s controlled. Weight classes exist so it¡¯s fair, so you can see who¡¯s best when all the variables are the same."


    He paused, looking around at the group.


    "But in real life? Out on the street? You think someone¡¯s gonna check your weight class before they throw a punch?"


    Silence.


    "No. They¡¯re not. That guy from another school who wants to mess with you? He might be twice your size. So if you can¡¯t take a hit from someone bigger than you in here, you¡¯ve got no chance out there."


    Joe clapped his hands sharply. "We¡¯re not teaching you how to box. We¡¯re teaching you how to fight."


    That landed. The students nodded and got to work fast, pairing up and diving into the drills with more focus than before.


    They liked this kind of training, real, raw, useful. More than anything they ever got in school. And deep down, some of them were already wondering why they hadn¡¯t started doing this sooner.


    While Joe was watching over the students, the door creaked open.


    Customer? he thought. Steven¡¯s still busy... guess I¡¯ll handle it. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Joe turned to see who had walked in, and immediately realized this wasn¡¯t a student.


    The man was clearly older. He wore camo-patterned pants and a tilted beret that gave him a slightly off-kilter look. He wasn¡¯t particularly big, but his face was sharp, sunken just enough to make his cheekbones stand out unnaturally. There was something off about him.


    He stood stiff as a board, back straight, eyes scanning the gym like he was measuring every inch of it.


    "Welcome to Bloodline Gym," Joe said from across the mat, trying to keep his voice even. "Is there something I can help you with?"


    The man¡¯s head slowly turned toward him.


    "I¡¯ve been told this is the gym connected to the ones who took down Dipter and his crew," he said. "I¡¯m looking for whoever did it. Was it you? The description could have been wrong...maybe it was you."


    His voice was calm, too calm. And the way he tilted his head slightly to the side while staring dead at Joe sent a chill through him.


    Joe swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how quiet the gym had become.


    "Screw it." The man said. "I¡¯ve decided it was you."

 Chapter 111: Bloody Knuckles

    Chapter 111: Bloody Knuckles"Me? Defeat Dipter?" Joe laughed nervously, lifting his hands in surrender. Sweat ran down the side of his face. "No way. That¡¯s impossible, I could never do something like that."


    The other students turned to look at him.


    Some of them couldn¡¯t believe Joe was even the one running class right now. A lot of the fifteen or so students there were the top delinquents in their year. They were on Ko¡¯s level. And Joe? Joe had been Ko¡¯s underling.


    They¡¯d watched him improve over time, which was why they respected him just enough to listen to what he had to say during training. But seeing him like this, panicked, backing off, they were starting to realize he might not have much of a spine after all.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Joe. I¡¯ll deal with this guy," said a student named Darren, pulling off his gloves and tossing them to the floor.


    Darren was no joke. Top of his class, one of the most aggressive fighters among the delinquents. He stepped forward confidently, cracking his knuckles as he walked.


    "Hey," Darren said, voice sharp. "You don¡¯t just walk into a gym full of students learning how to fight and say something like that. You¡¯re basically asking for a fight."


    Without waiting for an answer, Darren closed the distance and lunged forward. In that moment, it was like everything he¡¯d learned in the gym flew out of his head. He pulled his arm back wide and swung with full force.


    The man barely moved. He shifted to the side with ease, letting Darren¡¯s momentum carry him forward. Then, with practiced precision, he grabbed Darren¡¯s wrist and twisted it, slipping behind him in one fluid motion.


    A quick kick to the back of Darren¡¯s legs sent him stumbling down, and before he could even react, the man struck him with a lightning-fast blow to the side of the head.


    It was so fast Joe didn¡¯t even see it, just the man¡¯s hand snapping back as Darren crumpled to the floor.


    The man turned calmly and walked forward, completely unfazed by the chaos behind him.


    "I have a mission," he said, his voice sharp and mechanical. "And I intend to complete it. I¡¯m bringing the one who took down Dipter to the boss. Agent Dud has never failed a mission."


    "What the hell did that guy just do?!" one of the students yelled.


    "He dropped Darren! Get him!" another shouted.


    In a flash, the rest of the students charged. But it wasn¡¯t coordinated. It wasn¡¯t anything like what they¡¯d practiced. This was pure street instinct.


    And that was the problem.


    Only those with real discipline, those who trained seriously, could stay calm and fight the way they¡¯d been taught when things got real. But these kids? They slipped right back into their old habits the second the pressure hit.


    For Dud, it was too easy.


    The first student swung sloppily. Dud caught his wrist mid-air, twisted, and flipped him effortlessly to the ground.


    Another lunged in. Dud stepped aside, grabbed the student¡¯s arm, and with a sharp tug, a snap echoed across the room.


    "This guy..." Joe¡¯s eyes widened. "He¡¯s dodging everything... and the second he touches them, he just breaks them, like it¡¯s nothing..."


    One student was already on the floor, clutching his arm, crying out.


    Joe¡¯s jaw clenched. I have to do something!


    He took a breath and ran forward.


    Ahead of him, Dud had just thrown another student to the floor. The boy rolled, groaning, as Dud moved with fluid, unrelenting precision, twisting a wrist here, kicking out a knee there.


    His style... Joe thought. It¡¯s nothing like I¡¯ve ever seen before. But I can¡¯t just freeze, I have to fight the way I know how.


    He gritted his teeth and closed the distance.


    Joe stayed sharp and tight, keeping his stance compact. He shot forward with a quick uppercut aimed straight at Dud¡¯s chin.


    It didn¡¯t land clean, but it was close enough. The punch skimmed under Dud¡¯s jaw, just barely grazing it, and it forced him to release the student he¡¯d been gripping by the shirt.


    "Oh..." Dud murmured, stepping back. "So one of you actually knows how to fight."


    He smiled, the kind that didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    "I was right after all. You were the one who took out Dipter." He rolled his neck. "Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re good enough for us."


    The injured students backed away, keeping their distance. They watched in stunned silence as Joe began weaving side to side, light on his feet. Then he struck, quick punches aimed clean at Dud¡¯s head. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Dud moved with precision, parrying each blow with subtle hand movements, observing closely.


    "Good, good," he said. "You¡¯re compact. Guard¡¯s tight. And you¡¯ve got speed."


    The students stared, wide-eyed. Joe was the only one holding his ground. The only one who looked like he might actually stand a chance.


    But Dud¡¯s voice shifted.


    "Problem is... there¡¯s a big difference between boxing and a real fight."


    Dud suddenly lunged and drove a punch straight through the center of Joe¡¯s guard. His fist slammed into Joe¡¯s face, snapping his head backward.


    "In boxing," Dud said coldly, "you¡¯ve got gloves to protect you. Out here, "


    He drove a brutal kick into the side of Joe¡¯s leg. Joe gritted his teeth and stayed standing, until another hit cracked into his stomach, folding him over.


    Then came the final strike, a clean blow across his face that sent him crashing to the ground.


    The gym was silent, except for the sound of breath catching in throats.


    Dud didn¡¯t hesitate. He dropped down, pinning Joe with both knees. Then the fists came, over and over, slamming into Joe¡¯s face. No one moved. No one spoke.


    Joe didn¡¯t even raise his arms to defend himself. He just... took it.


    Punch after punch.


    Until finally, it stopped.


    Dud stood up, blood dripping from his knuckles.


    Joe wasn¡¯t moving.


    The students watched in stunned disbelief, frozen by what they¡¯d just witnessed.


    "You¡¯re either not the one who beat Dipter," Dud said, his voice cold and flat, "or you¡¯re too weak for us to care about. Either way, I¡¯m done here."


    He turned around like nothing had happened, walking out the gym door as casually as if he¡¯d just picked up a protein bar from the store.


    The room was silent for a beat, then chaos erupted.


    The students rushed to Joe, dropping to their knees around him. He was sprawled on one of the soft training mats, but it didn¡¯t soften the damage. Blood was smeared across the floor from his nose and mouth. His face was swollen, bruised, barely recognizable.


    "Joe! Joe, are you okay?!"


    "Somebody get a towel or something, !"


    Voices were overlapping, panicked. Some of the students looked like they were ready to cry. Others just froze.


    From across the gym, Steven stepped out of the changing room, still holding his phone to his ear.


    "What is all that noise? I can barely hear, " he stopped mid-sentence.


    He saw the circle of students... and the blood. They were crowded around someone, and then they started moving aside.


    Steven¡¯s face fell.


    He walked over slowly. His footsteps echoed.


    When he saw Joe, bloodied, limp, barely conscious, his heart dropped.


    Steven silently ended the call with a tap of his finger.


    His voice came out low, like he was trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing.


    "What... happened...?"

 Chapter 112: A Broke Man

    Chapter 112: A Broke ManSteven stepped closer, one slow step at a time. His eyes scanned the room, and the more he took in, the worse it got.


    Blood spattered across the mat.


    A few students writhing on the floor, clutching their arms or shoulders, joints clearly twisted or dislocated.


    At first, Steven thought maybe there¡¯d been a fight between them. An argument that went too far.


    But then he looked again, and he knew.


    This wasn¡¯t a brawl. It was clean. Efficient. Someone had come in and deliberately inflicted maximum damage in minimum time. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The students had been taken down fast.


    But Joe... Joe was different.


    The hits on him weren¡¯t meant to end a fight. They were meant to draw it out. Keep him conscious. Force him to feel every second of it.


    "Some guy in a beret hat and camo pants!" one of the students burst out. "He just walked in and started taking everyone down!"


    Who did this? And why? Steven thought, kneeling down beside Joe.


    He leaned in close. Joe was still breathing, but barely. His eyes were shut tight, body tense, locked in pain. A low whimper escaped his throat.


    "The blood from your nose is going into your mouth," Steven said quietly. "This is gonna hurt, but I need to turn you on your side."


    Carefully, he shifted Joe¡¯s body. Joe groaned through gritted teeth as Steven rolled him over. The second his cheek hit the mat, a thick gush of blood poured from his mouth.


    Some of the students turned away, wincing at the sight.


    They felt it. The pain. The helplessness. A few of them clenched their fists, ashamed they hadn¡¯t done more. That they couldn¡¯t stop it.


    Was it because of me? Steven wondered. Did they come here looking for Max... or for me?


    One of the students, still shaken, finally spoke.


    "The guy came in asking for the ones who took out Dipter. I think... I think they were after Max."


    Another added, "Maybe you too, Coach."


    Steven stood in silence for a moment, replaying everything in his head.


    He had been part of the group that went after Dipter. Maybe not in the spotlight like Max or Jay, but still involved. So, no, it wasn¡¯t because of him. But he was definitely part of the reason.


    "Some of you were with Dipter before, right?" Steven asked, scanning the students. "None of you recognized the guy?"


    They shook their heads.


    "The guy was an adult," one of them said. "It wasn¡¯t Dipter or anyone we¡¯ve ever seen before."


    That tracked. The attacker didn¡¯t even seem to know who they were. He wasn¡¯t here to send a message to them. He was hunting someone else.


    After checking Joe again, making sure he was still breathing, still hanging on, Steven made his decision.


    "Did any of you call an ambulance?"


    Again, silence. Then more head-shaking.


    Steven sighed and pulled out his phone, beginning to dial.


    But just before he pressed call, a hand reached up and grabbed the tip of his phone.


    It was Joe. His fingers were streaked with blood.


    "What are you doing..." he croaked, voice barely audible. "I don¡¯t need an ambulance. And who¡¯s gonna pay for it when they show up? I don¡¯t want to owe a broke man any favors."


    Steven gently took Joe¡¯s hand and placed it back at his side.


    "Are you an idiot?" he asked flatly. "Don¡¯t answer that, I already know."


    He looked down at him, eyes sharp.


    "You think money¡¯s more important than this? Than you? The whole reason we earn money is for situations like this. There¡¯s no point hoarding it just to watch people around you suffer."


    Steven stood up, the phone still in hand.


    "I spend my money the way I want, how I want, and right now, I¡¯m using it to make sure you¡¯re okay."


    He paused, letting the words land.


    "If I had money sitting in my pocket and you ended up messed up for life because I didn¡¯t make one damn phone call... do you really think I¡¯d feel good about that?"


    He raised the phone to his ear.


    "So shut up... and let me, as the adult in the room, do what needs to be done."


    The ambulance arrived in about fifteen minutes.


    The paramedics moved quickly, stabilizing Joe, cleaning what they could, placing him gently onto a stretcher. Then, they loaded him into the back of the vehicle.


    "Here, take these," Steven said, handing the paramedic a small stack of cards. "When he gets to the hospital, I¡¯ll cover the deposit for now."


    "We only need one, sir," the man replied politely.


    "I don¡¯t know which one will actually work," Steven said, voice tense. "So I¡¯m giving you all of them. The last thing I want is for him to be refused treatment because of some payment issue."


    He started digging through his pockets.


    He knew he had it somewhere.


    Finally, he pulled it out, a specific business card. One he¡¯d been given a while ago. One that came with a promise.


    "If nothing else works, use this. If you tell them Max sent you, they¡¯ll cover everything."


    The paramedic looked at him for a moment, uncertain, but nodded and took the cards. Then the doors shut, and the ambulance drove away, sirens off but urgency heavy in the air.


    Steven stood there for a moment, watching it disappear down the street.


    Then he turned and walked back into the gym.


    "The rest of you, take the day off," he said, voice carrying across the mat. "If you¡¯re hurt, go to the hospital. If you get a bill or anything like that, bring it to me tomorrow. I¡¯ll cover it."


    His tone was firm. But it was laced with guilt.


    "You all got hurt under my roof. That should¡¯ve never happened."


    He was ashamed. While he¡¯d been on the phone, someone had walked into his gym and wrecked his students.


    He wouldn¡¯t be surprised if none of them came back after this.


    And Joe, his top student, was barely hanging on.


    The room was quiet. Even the students who hadn¡¯t been injured were too shaken to stay. One by one, they filtered out, leaving Steven alone.


    He stood there for a long time, staring at the blood on the floor. Letting it burn into his memory.


    "I¡¯m a useless adult," he muttered under his breath. "A broke, useless adult who couldn¡¯t even protect a few kids."


    The door creaked open behind him.


    Steven didn¡¯t turn around.


    "We¡¯re closed for today," he said flatly.


    "Oh, really?" came a voice. Calm. Familiar. "Didn¡¯t realize you were the one calling the shots now."


    Steven¡¯s chest tightened.


    He turned.


    Max and Jay were walking toward him. Max stopped short when his eyes landed on the floor.


    His gaze locked onto the dark stains on the mat.


    "...Why is there blood?" Max asked, his tone shifting. "Whose blood is that?"


    His voice wasn¡¯t angry, not yet. But it was tight. Controlled. Like a wire ready to snap.

 Chapter 113: A Special Note (Fixed Chapter)

    Chapter 113: A Special Note (Fixed Chapter)The next day at school, Max sat quietly at his desk, eyes drifting toward the two empty seats in the room.


    One of them was right beside him, Sam¡¯s old desk. He didn¡¯t let anyone sit there. No transfer students, no one. That seat belonged to Sam. It stayed empty as a reminder. Of mistakes. Of things Max couldn¡¯t undo.


    And now, on the far side of the classroom, near the window that looked into the hallway, there was another empty seat.


    Joe¡¯s.


    I got the full story from everyone at the gym, Max thought, and from Steven too. But I still don¡¯t know who it was that broke in that day. From what they said... it sounded like they were looking for me.


    After hearing what happened, Max hadn¡¯t hesitated. He told Steven not to worry about any of the hospital bills. He¡¯d cover everything, for Joe and for the other students who got hurt.


    He remembered the look on Steven¡¯s face when he said that. It wasn¡¯t just relief, it was something deeper. Like Steven had wanted to say more... but didn¡¯t.


    I was planning to tell him the good news that day, Max thought. That I was officially making him the director of the Billion Bloodline gym chain. But after what happened... that wasn¡¯t the time.


    He stared at the desks again, jaw tight.


    I need to find out who did this. I can¡¯t let what happened to Sam... happen again to Joe. Or to anyone.


    And if something like this is already happening in the early days of the Billion Bloodline... it won¡¯t take much for everything I¡¯ve built to fall apart.


    The students had said it wasn¡¯t a kid, not someone from another school. It was a fully grown adult.


    So who the hell was it? Max thought.


    And why were they coming for him?


    While Max was lost in thought, his hand brushed against something tucked into the slot beneath his desk, where pencils and textbooks usually went.


    He pulled it out. A small piece of folded paper.


    Opening it, he read:


    [There¡¯s always a lot on your mind. At times like this, take a step back and think clearly.


    You used to always tell me during our games that I was too focused on what I was doing and not what everyone else was doing.


    You said, Look at the whole map!


    I don¡¯t know if this advice will help you now, but I want to at least make you smile. So here¡¯s a joke:


    Why don¡¯t skeletons fight each other?


    Because they don¡¯t have the guts. ????]


    Max stared at the note for a moment... and then, despite everything, a wide smile spread across his face.


    A dad joke. Man, I haven¡¯t heard one of those in forever, he thought.


    Something about it, maybe the tone, maybe the memory it brought back, lifted the weight on his chest just a little. And more importantly, it helped him think.


    Take a step back. Look at the whole map.


    He folded the note gently, placed it in his jacket pocket, and leaned back in his seat.


    Who put this here? he wondered. And how did they know exactly what I needed to hear?


    When lunch arrived, the door to the classroom slid open. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Two girls stepped in, scanning the room quickly before making a beeline straight toward Max¡¯s desk.


    Without waiting for a word, they each dropped a lunchbox on his table.


    "There you are!" Cindy said, beaming. "Good thing we caught you. Someone told us your usual crew wasn¡¯t here today, so we figured now¡¯s our chance."


    The two girls, Cindy and Abby, were almost never seen apart. But it was the first time they¡¯d ever made a move like this.


    Max raised an eyebrow. He hadn¡¯t expected this today.


    "What¡¯s wrong?" Cindy said, crossing her arms. "So we¡¯re only allowed to talk to you when you need something from us? Yeah, it doesn¡¯t work that way."


    Max let out a small breath. "It¡¯s fine," he said. "We can eat together."


    There wasn¡¯t a threat at school anymore, at least not inside it. Things were calm for now, and that meant Abby and Cindy were safe. But Max knew this new danger? It was something outside the walls. Something harder to see.


    Still, Cindy was right.


    Their relationship had been one-sided for a while now. He¡¯d only ever gone to them when he needed help. That kind of thing doesn¡¯t last forever.


    As they sat down, Abby gently steered the conversation, asking Max how his day had been, what was on his mind. She even offered to help with his studies if he needed it.


    She wasn¡¯t pushy. Just present.


    And somewhere between her questions and her quiet support, Max realized she could tell, he was carrying a lot.


    By the time lunch was ending, both girls stood to leave.


    "It was nice just doing something normal like this, Max," Abby said with a soft smile. "You¡¯ve got a lot on your mind lately, and I don¡¯t blame you. So here¡¯s something to help take it off, even for a second."


    She leaned in a little.


    "Why can¡¯t you give Elsa a balloon?"


    Max blinked. "Elsa? Who¡¯s Elsa?"


    Abby smirked. "Because she¡¯ll let it go!"


    She burst out laughing while Cindy groaned and rolled her eyes, pulling her friend by the arm as they walked off.


    Max sat there for a moment, confused, then it hit him.


    "...Let it go," he repeated, and for the second time that day, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.


    As he watched them leave, he remembered the times he¡¯d seen Abby cry, more than once, and too often in the short time he¡¯d known her. And yet now, she was smiling. Laughing.


    She looks better when she smiles, Max thought.


    He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.


    Just before the end of lunch, Max made a decision.


    He scrolled through his contacts, thumb hovering for a moment before tapping the name: Stalker.


    The call rang once.


    "After school today," Max said, voice low but certain, "I need you to set something up for me."


    A pause on the other end.


    "Yeah... I want a meeting at the juvenile detention center. There¡¯s someone in there I need to talk to."


    His eyes narrowed.


    "I think they¡¯ve got answers I¡¯m missing."

 Chapter 114: I Didn’t See It Coming

    Chapter 114: I Didn¡¯t See It Coming"You and your cheesy jokes," Cindy said, looping her arm through Abby¡¯s as they walked down the hallway together.


    She smiled. "Anyway, Max seems more relaxed around us these days. Maybe things will go back to normal between you two."


    "Yeah," Abby replied, her smile bright but thoughtful. "It still doesn¡¯t feel the same. Like... Max has changed. But he still feels warm. I realized maybe we don¡¯t need to go back to how things used to be. Maybe a new kind of relationship between us would be even better."


    Just as her words settled, a hand shot out and slapped Abby¡¯s lunchbox from her hands.


    It hit the floor with a metallic clang, the lid cracking open and scattering its contents.


    Students down the hall stopped mid-conversation and turned their heads at the noise.


    Standing in front of Abby and Cindy was a girl with her hair tied high and tight, her stance sharp with attitude. Flanking her were two others, one chewing gum like it was a war cry, the other wearing her skirt so short it barely passed as part of the uniform.


    Abby and Cindy recognized them immediately.


    These were the girls who were always in the halls. Sent out of class more often than they were in it. Known for shouting matches with teachers and drama that never seemed to end.


    Some of the most troublesome girls in the school.


    "Did you do that on purpose?" Cindy snapped, crouching to pick up the container.


    "Scrambling for your trash like the dog you are," the lead girl, Kira, sneered. "Of course I did it on purpose. You two need to remember your place around here."


    She looked down her nose at them, unbothered by the stares around her.


    "And talking to Max?" Kira added. "You seriously think you¡¯re on that level?"


    Abby clutched her lunchbox to her chest, eyes flicking downward. She looked sheepish, shrinking back a little. But before she could take a step, Kira, Nightly, and Susan moved in, boxing them in.


    The three girls cornered Abby and Cindy, pushing them until their backs were pressed against the wall beside the window that looked out over the school grounds.


    Cindy, for all her fiery spirit, wasn¡¯t a fighter. Neither of them were. They weren¡¯t delinquents. They didn¡¯t know how to handle girls like this.


    "We haven¡¯t done anything," Abby said quietly. "We don¡¯t even share the same classes."


    "Are you an idiot?" Nightly snapped. "You should stick to people who are like you."


    Kira stepped forward, finger jabbing into Abby¡¯s shoulder, once, twice, again with every word.


    "We¡¯ve seen it. Every time you try to get Max¡¯s attention. You think cozying up to the leader of this school is going to change your life? Newsflash, you¡¯re not part of this world. So stop trying to play in it."


    "What¡¯s wrong with you, Kira?!" Cindy shot back, voice raised. "Abby can talk to whoever she wants! Who made you the boss of who¡¯s allowed to speak to who?"


    Before Cindy could say another word, Susan, still chewing her gum lazily, spat it out with a snap. The sticky wad smacked Cindy right on the cheek.


    She gasped and turned her head, trying to wipe it off.


    "Aw, did you hear that cute little scream?" Kira mocked with a grin. "Listen. You two don¡¯t belong here. You focus on your books and your little school life."


    She leaned in, voice low and venomous.


    "Max is in our world. And he doesn¡¯t need weak little bitches like you clinging to him for attention."


    She stepped back, smirking.


    "Keep talking to him, and let¡¯s see how your lives turn out."


    And that¡¯s when the voice came from down the hallway.


    Loud. Sharp. Unshaken.


    "What kind of threats are you idiots making?"


    They all turned at once.


    Standing at the end of the hallway was someone most students barely noticed, quiet, withdrawn, always off to the side. She rarely spoke. Rarely stood out.


    But today, Sheri stepped forward. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Don¡¯t you know how important Abby is to Max?" she said, walking steadily toward them. "If you had a shred of sense, you¡¯d treat her with some kindness. That¡¯s the only way you¡¯ll ever be on Max¡¯s good side."


    She stopped in front of Kira and her crew, standing between them and Abby and Cindy.


    No punches were thrown. But the shift in energy was real. The second Sheri placed herself beside Abby and Cindy, something changed. A sense of safety crept in, quiet, but strong.


    Abby and Cindy didn¡¯t know her well at all. In fact, Sheri never really spoke to anyone. But Abby recognized her. She¡¯d seen her before, sometimes around Max. Sometimes glancing her way.


    It was the first time Sheri had ever said anything on their behalf.


    Kira scoffed. "You think this little pipsqueak has Max wrapped around her finger? Because from where we¡¯re standing, it doesn¡¯t look like that."


    She narrowed her eyes at Abby.


    "To us, and everyone else, she¡¯s just some clingy, desperate girl trying to get noticed. No use to Max at all."


    Then her smirk twisted meaner.


    "And honestly? Maybe she¡¯s that kind of shy girl. The kind that acts innocent until she gives herself up like some pathetic little, "


    SLAP.


    The sound rang through the hall like a crack of thunder.


    Kira¡¯s eyes widened in shock, her cheek stinging red.


    Everyone froze.


    She turned slowly, her gaze landing on the only person whose hand was still shaking.


    It wasn¡¯t Sheri. It was Abby.


    "You... you slapped me!" Kira hissed, her whole face trembling with rage.


    Abby stood firm, her fists clenched, heart pounding, but her voice didn¡¯t waver.


    "You spit gum on my friend. You insulted me to my face. All of you, you¡¯re just bullies!"


    Her eyes locked on Kira¡¯s. "You think you can keep pushing people, walking all over them, and no one will ever do anything about it."


    She took a shaky breath, but her voice grew stronger.


    "Max changed this school. He stood up so people like you couldn¡¯t get away with this anymore. He fought back. And if you really knew Max, you¡¯d know he¡¯d support what I¡¯m doing right now."


    Her eyes narrowed. "I¡¯m fighting back."


    Kira looked like she was about to explode. Her fists clenched, her friends tensing beside her, ready to strike.


    But before anything could happen, Sheri grabbed Cindy by the wrist, then Abby, and yanked them both.


    "Come on! Class is about to start, we have to go!" she shouted, pulling them down the hallway.


    The three of them sprinted off, shoving past a few confused students as they ran.


    Behind them, Kira, Nightly, and Susan just stood there, watching them disappear around the corner.


    "You¡¯re not gonna let her get away with that, are you?" Nightly asked.


    "We could rough her up a bit," Susan said, casually. "Or spread a few rumors, trash her name. But..."


    She hesitated.


    "But what?" Nightly said, rolling her eyes. "Did you see her hand shaking? That girl¡¯s never thrown a punch in her life."


    "It¡¯s not her I¡¯m worried about," Susan replied. "It¡¯s what Sheri said."


    She glanced toward the hallway. "I heard... before Max took over this school, he and Sheri used to talk. A lot."


    Nightly raised an eyebrow. "So?"


    "So," Susan said, "if we piss off the wrong people... we might end up on Max¡¯s bad side. And I thought you wanted to be with him, Kira."


    Kira¡¯s eyes narrowed as she rubbed her sore cheek.


    "That bitch doesn¡¯t have any real pull with Max. Unless she¡¯s using her body, which wouldn¡¯t surprise me."


    She paused, smirking coldly. "But I¡¯ve got a way to handle this. Without lifting a finger."


    "Oh?" Nightly said.


    "You know those girls at Seaton High?" Kira asked.


    "The all-girl school full of delinquents?"


    "Yeah. I know a few people there who¡¯ll be more than happy to take care of her for me."


    She smiled.


    "She won¡¯t even see it coming."

 Chapter 115: Learning The Truth

    Chapter 115: Learning The TruthAfter Sheri led the girls away, the three of them finally stopped outside their classroom. Their hearts were still pounding, but at least they were safe¡ªfor now. Thankfully, Kira and her gang weren¡¯t in any of their classes, which meant they could avoid them for most of the day.


    "Crap... crap a duck," Cindy muttered, hands on her knees. "What is with those girls? I thought the bullying stopped after Dipter got sent to juvie with the others. Guess that wasn¡¯t enough of a wake-up call."


    "The bullying didn¡¯t stop," Sheri said with a quiet laugh. "That was just the obvious kind¡ªthe in-your-face stuff. And it was mostly the guys."


    She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.


    "Maybe you haven¡¯t dealt with it before, but girl bullying? It¡¯s worse. Social media, silent treatment, getting iced out of friend circles... it¡¯s more hidden. And it sticks. Girls don¡¯t let go of grudges. Not really."


    Sheri looked directly at Abby.


    "You should be careful. That girl¡ªKira? She¡¯s not going to forget what you did."


    Cindy suddenly grabbed Abby¡¯s hands, her face lit up with pride.


    "Still! Abby, I can¡¯t believe you slapped her. I seriously didn¡¯t think you had it in you!"


    Abby blinked, her expression still a little stunned. "I... I don¡¯t know what came over me. I was just... angry. I didn¡¯t want everything to go back to how it used to be. Not with how Max was."


    As the two kept talking, they noticed Sheri quietly slipping away down the hall, not saying a word.


    "Wait... who was she?" Cindy asked, watching her disappear around the corner. "Why¡¯d she help us?"


    "I¡¯ve seen her with Max a few times," Abby said, still catching her breath. "But honestly... I¡¯m not sure. I guess they know each other."


    "Whoever she was, she helped us," Cindy said, arms folded. "And I think we should take her warning seriously. Let¡¯s just avoid Kira and her gang as much as possible. Or, if you want, we could talk to Max. I¡¯m sure he could scare her off. One look from him and she¡¯d back down for good."


    Abby immediately shook her head.


    "No," she said firmly. "I don¡¯t want to bother Max. We can¡¯t just run to him every time something goes wrong. Not when we¡¯re just starting to fix things between us. He¡¯s already got so much on his plate... and whatever he¡¯s dealing with now, it¡¯s not over yet."


    ???


    After school, Max didn¡¯t head to the gym.


    He wouldn¡¯t blame the other students if they didn¡¯t either, not after what happened. Still, he noticed a few walking in that direction. Maybe they didn¡¯t know where else to go. Maybe, after what went down, they were more fired up than ever to train.


    I still haven¡¯t told Steven the news, Max thought, walking along a side street behind the school. But I won¡¯t¡ªnot until I get to the bottom of this.


    His steps slowed as another thought surfaced¡ªSteven¡¯s words, the ones that stuck with him after everything.


    "If you find the person who did this to him... tell me, and I¡¯ll be there in a heartbeat."


    He didn¡¯t even ask for payment, Max realized. Maybe he¡¯s not someone who can be bought. Maybe he only needed the money because of what he¡¯s dealing with... but the rest? That came from somewhere real.


    Eventually, Max came to a stop.


    Parked at the curb was a sleek, black car. Standing beside it, arms crossed and posture sharp, was a man in a tailored suit.


    Even though it wasn¡¯t the weekend, Aron had shown up.


    He gave Max a small nod and pulled open the door.


    "You should really look around before doing things like that," Max said with a faint smile, eyeing the street behind them.


    "I am aware, sir," Aron replied smoothly. "But with the students no longer causing you trouble at school, is there still a need to hide who you are?"


    "There¡¯s plenty of reasons," Max said as he climbed into the car. "Especially when we don¡¯t even know who our enemy is."


    Aron followed closely behind, closing the door behind him.


    "That¡¯s what today¡¯s about, isn¡¯t it?" Aron asked. "To find out."


    Max didn¡¯t respond right away. His eyes were locked on the road ahead, thoughts racing.


    This was the only lead he had¡ªhis only real connection to what might¡¯ve caused the attack. There was one other possible link... but that was a door Max wasn¡¯t ready to open. Not yet.


    Eventually, the car pulled up in front of a tall wall and gated entrance. Across the large rectangular building, a sign read: Juvenile Detention Centre.


    As the gates opened and the car rolled through, Max spotted several guards on patrol. They wore tactical vests and carried batons¡ªbut no firearms.


    In this country, firearms were heavily restricted, even more so inside facilities like this. Giving guards guns inside a juvenile center would only increase the risk. So they were kept minimal. Controlled.


    The car came to a stop.


    Max stepped out, and Aron stayed close at his side as they walked to the front desk and gave the necessary details.


    This place was, for all intents and purposes, a prison for minors. But since the inmates weren¡¯t legally adults, they still had certain mandatory facilities¡ªlike basic education classes.


    Still, just like in a real prison, inmates were allowed visitors.


    Normally, a visit like this would require approval from the one being held. They¡¯d have to give the name of who they were willing to meet.


    But in this case, Max had pulled a few strings. The name was finally called. Max stood up.


    "I¡¯ll be okay. Don¡¯t look so nervous," Max said with a smirk, glancing back at Aron.


    Only one visitor was allowed inside. And this one... Max had to handle alone.


    He followed the guard through a heavy steel door. Inside was a small, sterile room¡ªgray walls, no windows, just a chair in front of a thick glass panel. In front of it sat a small microphone, a button to activate it, and perforated holes for sound to pass through.


    Max sat down, calm but alert.


    Across from him, the second door opened.


    A guard stepped in first.


    And behind him... was Dipter.


    He looked thinner but not weak. His face was still cocky, his smirk intact as he strolled right up to the seat across from Max and sat down without hesitation.


    "Oh!" Dipter said, eyes lighting up. "I knew you¡¯d come see me eventually, but I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be this soon..."


    He leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Max... Stern," he added, making sure to pronounce the last name with slow, deliberate emphasis.

 Chapter 116: The Reason Behind Chad Stern

    Chapter 116: The Reason Behind Chad SternMax stared through the glass at Dipter.


    His face, his knuckles, and his arms were marked with scratches and bruises, some old, some fresh. It was obvious he¡¯d been fighting.


    Made sense. Juvie wasn¡¯t full of scared kids. It was full of people like Dipter, territorial, violent, eager to prove something. Fights were inevitable.


    Max knew that world. He¡¯d been there once himself. But someone got him out.


    Now, he was sitting on the other side of the glass, face to face with a ghost from that world.


    And the first words out of Dipter¡¯s mouth confirmed what Max had come to suspect.


    Dipter didn¡¯t just know him as Max Smith.


    He knew him as Max Stern.


    "I saw the look on your face," Max said, calm but direct. "You figured it out. And now I know I was right."


    His eyes narrowed. "You knew all along. You knew I was a member of the Stern family. Just like the client you were working for."


    Dipter let out a snorting laugh. It started small, then spiraled.


    "I can¡¯t believe what fools we were!" he said, shaking his head, his voice cracking as the laughter took over. "We were being used. Just pieces in some rich family¡¯s game!"


    He slammed his fist on the small table beside him. "All that time, we were beating you down, and you said nothing. Then, when you finally made your move... You didn¡¯t just beat us. You ended it."


    He grinned wildly. "Gotta give it to you. You played it better than that idiot Chad ever could."


    Dipter was unraveling. The calm, calculated version of him was gone. Juvie hadn¡¯t broken him physically, but mentally, the cracks were spreading.


    Max watched in silence. Letting him burn out.


    Then finally, he asked, "So tell me, how did you figure it out? That I was a Stern? Chad didn¡¯t tell you."


    Dipter narrowed his eyes.


    "So that¡¯s why you¡¯re here," he said. "You want information."


    He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.


    "Guess that makes sense. You made it pretty clear when you dumped me in here that we weren¡¯t friends."


    He stood halfway from his seat.


    "You can rot in whatever mess you¡¯re in. I¡¯m not telling you a damn thing."


    "Come on," Max said calmly, leaning in slightly. "You¡¯re smarter than that."


    His voice was steady, cutting through the tension.


    "I¡¯m the one who got you in here. And you know just as well as I do, those charges? Most of them weren¡¯t even linked to you. You¡¯re here because I made it happen."


    He held Dipter¡¯s gaze.


    "And now that you know who I really am... you should also know I¡¯m the only one who can get you out."


    Max let that hang in the air.


    "Life¡¯s not as easy in here, huh? Not when you¡¯re not at the top."


    Dipter didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, he slowly sank back into his chair. His eyes dropped to the table, and the fight in his expression dimmed. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The bruises on his face, the cuts on his knuckles, they said enough. He wasn¡¯t running this place. Not in here. For once, he was the one on the receiving end of the daily beatdowns.


    His voice was lower now, quieter.


    "When this whole thing started," Dipter said, "I had no idea you, or Chad, were part of the Stern family."


    The wild laughter from earlier was gone. What was left was something closer to the real Dipter. Raw. Worn down.


    "I climbed to the top of the school. Took control. Gathered the strongest students under me. We were ready to take on the other schools. Same old system, just under my rule. I thought that was the only thing that mattered."


    He paused, jaw tight. "Then Chad showed up."


    Max stayed silent, listening.


    "He¡¯d heard I ran the school. Said he had a small job. Deal with a transfer student... and a girl who went to our school."


    Max didn¡¯t flinch. He already knew who the targets were.


    "In exchange," Dipter continued, "he offered money. Stupid amounts of it. Stuff no high school kid should ever get. It didn¡¯t make sense, but I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t ask why."


    He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers slowly.


    "The two of you, whatever beef Chad had, it wasn¡¯t my business. The money was real. And once the first job was done, he pulled us into something bigger. He needed help with other things."


    He glanced back up, eyes cold again, but not angry. Just tired.


    "We called it ¡¯The Weekend Deliveries.¡¯ I used the money to strengthen my hold. Hired loyal students. Turned the school into a fortress."


    Then he leaned back.


    "And whatever was happening with you and your girlfriend? That became nothing more than a side mission."


    "I had no idea what was in those briefcases," Dipter continued, his voice level. "But I knew who we were delivering them to. Local street gangs, mostly. We were just transporters."


    He paused, rubbing a thumb across one of the scabs on his knuckle.


    "But the thing about jobs like that... whatever was inside those packages? Other people wanted them too. That meant sometimes, we got hit."


    His eyes darkened.


    "One time, we were attacked by another street crew. I handled it personally. Made the delivery anyway."


    He looked up, lips curling into something between a smile and a sneer.


    "After that, this guy approaches me. Said he saw what we did. Said he was impressed. Then he makes a suggestion, why don¡¯t we cut Chad out of the picture entirely?"


    Max didn¡¯t react, but inside, he was listening harder now.


    "That conversation got me thinking," Dipter said. "I started making plans, plans for what the school could become without Chad pulling the strings. How much more we could make. How we could run things on our own."


    He leaned forward.


    "But there was one problem, our original client. Chad."


    His fingers tapped the table, slow and steady.


    "He was dangerous. We knew that. And there were always people around him, watching. We couldn¡¯t just cut ties without consequences."


    Dipter looked off to the side, remembering.


    "Then one day, I was getting instructions from Chad, same as usual, and his guard slipped up. Called him a Stern."


    He paused.


    "That name didn¡¯t mean anything to me at the time. But I looked it up."


    His eyes met Max¡¯s, steady.


    "And I couldn¡¯t believe what I saw. Your family. Plastered across the internet. Lavish houses. Flashy cars. The Stern empire, one of the biggest names around."


    Max kept his expression flat, but in the back of his mind, he made a mental note:


    Remind Aron to keep quiet. The guy talked too much, and it was only a matter of time before he said something that gave it all away.


    Still, none of this answered the bigger question. Dipter found out Chad was a Stern. But how did he figure Max was one? And more importantly...


    Who were the people that attacked the gym? What did they want, and who were they really working for?


    The puzzle pieces were here. But they still weren¡¯t fitting together.


    "At first, I was scared," Dipter admitted, his tone shifting again, less mocking, more calculated. "I couldn¡¯t figure out why that guy would even suggest something like that. I mean, they clearly knew who our client was."


    He leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing.


    "The Stern family might not be a gang, but they¡¯ve got stupid, ridiculous amounts of money. Enough to make people disappear. Enough to make something like this", he motioned to the glass between them, "look like child¡¯s play. Right, Max?"


    Max gave a quiet nod, but didn¡¯t say a word. He just wanted Dipter to keep talking.


    And he did.


    "But then I thought about it," Dipter went on. "Why would someone from the Stern family be dealing with us? With street kids, with school punks running delivery routes? That¡¯s pocket change to people like you."


    He paused, letting it hang.


    "The answer... is how I figured everything out."


    He looked Max dead in the eye.


    "Because Chad Stern doesn¡¯t have a single cent to his name."

 Chapter 117: The Scum Of The Stern Family

    Chapter 117: The Scum Of The Stern FamilyThe words echoed in Max¡¯s head.


    Chad Stern doesn¡¯t have a single cent to his name.


    It sounded ridiculous, impossible to believe from any angle. From the outside, the Sterns were untouchable. Their wealth was public, their companies thriving. They¡¯d liquidated assets years ago and still had more than enough to burn.


    And from the inside?


    Max knew for a fact that each member of the Stern family had been given a billion dollars. Personally. Independently. That kind of money wasn¡¯t just hard to spend in one lifetime, it was nearly impossible.


    So how could Chad be broke?


    Then, small flashes of memory started resurfacing.


    At the fundraising event... he didn¡¯t bid on a single item, Max thought. Every other Stern there did.


    And when he introduced himself to the Curts... he said he forgot to bring a gift.


    It hadn¡¯t seemed important at the time. But now?


    Could it be true? Could he really be out of money?


    Across the glass, Dipter let out a dry grunt.


    "From the look on your face, you didn¡¯t know either," he said. "Hard to believe, right? But Chad dug himself into something deep, and it was pretty clear the Stern family wasn¡¯t planning to bail him out."


    He leaned back in his seat, bruises visible even in the dim light.


    "I started asking around. Pushed for answers. Went back to the people who told me to cut Chad out. Figured maybe they had more to say."


    He paused.


    "And they did."


    Dipter looked at Max carefully. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You know anything about gang tiers?" he asked, clearly expecting Max to be clueless.


    "I know the three," Max replied calmly. "Street gangs, organized groups, and syndicates."


    Dipter paused.


    He hadn¡¯t expected Max to answer so fast, let alone accurately. He remembered Max working with a street gang to bring him down, but this? It felt like Max was more involved than before.


    Maybe way more.


    "There¡¯s a syndicate in this city," Dipter continued. "A big one. They call themselves the Gilt Rats. Never met them, but they¡¯re known for smuggling rare tech, forging IDs, and dealing synthetic drugs."


    He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.


    "Most of the packages we moved? I found out they came from them. But everything was through layers, I never dealt with them face-to-face."


    Max had heard the name before. The Gilt Rats were newer, but growing fast. He¡¯d never crossed paths with them during his time leading the White Tigers.


    But now he was starting to piece things together.


    "They don¡¯t handle things directly," Dipter said. "They work through a group one tier down, an organized crew called the Black Hounds."


    "And that¡¯s where Chad gets involved," Dipter said. "The Black Hounds push the substances. They run illegal gambling rings too. I don¡¯t know how Chad first got tied in, maybe he was buying from them, maybe he got hooked. But eventually..."


    He sighed.


    "He started gambling. Hard."


    Dipter looked at Max, voice low and steady now.


    "He lost a lot of money. A lot. Enough to end up owing the Black Hounds."


    Max sat back, eyes narrowing. If Dipter knew the full amount, he¡¯d probably choke on the words. And that¡¯s what made it worse.


    If a crime syndicate had access to even a fraction of Chad¡¯s Stern inheritance...


    They¡¯d be expanding. Making moves. Buying favors. Buying power.


    It wouldn¡¯t be the full billion, not with it funneled through intermediaries. But still... they¡¯d be operating with more capital than most groups in the country.


    I bet they forced his hand. Or tricked him into thinking he could win it back, Max thought, shaking his head.


    That stupid, reckless fool.


    "The Black Hounds were the ones who decided to put Chad to work," Dipter continued. "They hired him for deliveries. Paid him."


    He leaned forward, jaw tight.


    "They weren¡¯t scared of the Stern family name, probably because of the syndicate backing them. Or maybe they just knew the family wouldn¡¯t lift a finger."


    Max listened carefully, his mind racing ahead even as Dipter filled in the blanks.


    "As for who was watching over him... it was a group called The Rejected Corps. A street gang made up of ex-military types. Real discipline. Real training. They do whatever needs to be done, no questions asked."


    Max didn¡¯t blink, but he logged that name hard. Rejected Corps. That was new. Dangerous.


    "They¡¯re the ones who told me to get rid of Chad. They laid out all the details. The debt, the drugs, the gambling... everything."


    Dipter gave a hollow laugh.


    "And when I realized there was nothing I could do to stop any of it, I saw a chance. A way out. So I agreed. I turned on Chad. Figured as long as someone else took his place, the Black Hounds wouldn¡¯t care what happened to him."


    He leaned back in his seat, letting the silence hang before adding, "But what I never figured out... was why he cared so much about you and that girl. Abby."


    Max tensed, but didn¡¯t speak.


    "It only clicked that day," Dipter said. "The gang you hired. The way you got the police to look the other way. No one else could¡¯ve pulled that off. Except a Stern."


    He narrowed his eyes.


    "I still don¡¯t know why Chad has a vendetta against you. But honestly? I never cared. Not my business."


    He shrugged.


    "So now you know everything. Even you should be able to piece it together."


    Max sat quietly, but the pieces were already forming into something clear, something dangerous.


    If Chad had no money... if he was desperate...


    Then it made sense. He¡¯d target Max. Try to manipulate him. Use the school to get close. Use Abby as leverage. Maybe even work on getting Aron out of the picture to get access to Max¡¯s finances.


    Control the heir. Access the fortune. It was smart. Twisted. Desperate.


    Chad hadn¡¯t figured out all the pieces. That much was clear.


    He was drowning in his own mess, just trying to stay afloat. And now that Max understood that, he was even more convinced, Chad wouldn¡¯t have ordered his death.


    He couldn¡¯t afford to.


    One: he didn¡¯t have the money.


    Two: keeping Max alive was his only shot at accessing it.


    Max¡¯s voice was calm, but his words hit like iron.


    "The people who came looking for the ones that took you down... that was them. The Rejected Corps. They didn¡¯t just want revenge. They were looking to recruit me. To make us do their dirty work."


    He met Dipter¡¯s eyes.


    "They were done with Chad. And now that I¡¯ve taken you out of the picture... they¡¯re coming for me."


    Dipter¡¯s smile returned, but it was thin, strained.


    "Right," he said. "But I doubt they know you¡¯re a Stern. And unlike the last one, you can actually use your money. Maybe that protects you. Maybe not."


    His eyes darkened.


    "They¡¯re strong, Max. Way stronger than you or me. These aren¡¯t street punks. You don¡¯t want to mess with them."


    Max stood up. He¡¯d heard everything he needed. Dipter¡¯s face twisted. Panic set in.


    "Wait, what are you doing? You said if I told you the truth, I¡¯d get out! Are you going back on your word?!"


    Max paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.


    "Oh, you¡¯ll get out."


    He stepped toward the exit.


    "They sentenced you to five years, right? So... you¡¯ll be out in five years. Don¡¯t worry."


    Then he gave a final, chilling smile.


    "And who knows, maybe in a year or so, you¡¯ll get to meet the Rejected Corps yourself."

 Chapter 118: Don’t Cheer For us, Be A Part Of Us

    Chapter 118: Don¡¯t Cheer For us, Be A Part Of UsAfter visiting Dipter in juvie, Max¡¯s view of the situation had sharpened.


    So after dealing with school politics... now it¡¯s a street gang, he thought as the car pulled away from the facility. I¡¯ve never even heard of the Rejected Corps before. But then again, I spent most of my time focused on the syndicates and organized groups. We never really bothered with street gangs we didn¡¯t use ourselves.


    From Dipter¡¯s tone, his hesitation, his fear, Max could tell this gang was different.


    We¡¯re not ready to take on something like that, he admitted silently. Not yet. Not without growing first. And definitely not without knowing what they¡¯re capable of.


    Back in the car, Max leaned back in his seat as Aron drove. But instead of heading toward Max¡¯s apartment, they were going somewhere else.


    "Did you find out what you needed?" Aron asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "Or was it more difficult than expected?"


    He didn¡¯t wait for a reply before adding, "While you were inside, I was mapping out how easy it would be to infiltrate the place. If you want, I have several methods to... extract truth. Very effective ones."


    Max sighed, shaking his head.


    He¡¯d seen this side of Aron before. Calculating. Cold. He always wondered if it came from how he was raised, or what he¡¯d been trained for.


    "Please... it¡¯s fine," Max said. "He talked."


    He looked out the window, voice lower now.


    "The situation¡¯s more complicated than I thought. But I learned one thing for sure, "


    He paused.


    "The Stern family... including Dennis Stern... they¡¯re not going to help. They won¡¯t step in. Not for me. Not for Chad. We¡¯re on our own, Aron."


    The car eventually pulled to a stop just outside the main Bloodline Gym.


    Max opened the door and stepped out. Before Aron could follow, Max turned and gave a short nod.


    "Head back. I¡¯ll handle things from here."


    When Max stepped into the gym, he was greeted by the sharp, rhythmic thud of gloves pounding into a heavy bag.


    Steven was drenched in sweat, shirtless, locked in a relentless rhythm as he hit the bag again and again.


    Eventually, he slowed, catching his breath, and spotted Max watching from across the room.


    "You could¡¯ve said something instead of creeping in like that," Steven said, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. "Kinda weird, you know. Watching a shirtless man work out in silence. But hey, if it¡¯s your thing, I won¡¯t judge."


    Max cracked a smile. "Glad to see you¡¯re still in the mood to joke."


    He stepped closer.


    "Were there any students here today?"


    Steven nodded, pulling off his gloves. "Fewer than usual. But some still showed up."


    He tossed the gloves over to Max. "Put these on. Let¡¯s spar while we talk."


    Max caught them and eyed the damp insides.


    "Do I have to use these ones?"


    He was already walking toward the shelf, swapping them for a fresh pair.


    Steven scoffed. "Ah, right. Forgot you¡¯re royalty or something."


    "No," Max replied, slipping on the new gloves. "I just prefer not to soak my hands in another man¡¯s sweat, no matter how much you might wish it was my thing."


    Steven laughed under his breath, then lifted the pads.


    This time, he held them in specific angles, measured and precise. Max struck, again and again, but Steven would randomly swing back, forcing Max to dodge, react, stay on edge.


    It was more intense than any session they¡¯d had before.


    And as it continued, Max began to realize something:


    Steven was good. Not just experienced, disciplined. Sharp. Every move deliberate. Every swing controlled.


    "Why are you so serious today?" Max asked between hooks. He dodged two quick jabs that came in like lightning. "Feels like you¡¯re actually trying to teach me something."


    "When you¡¯re fighting, I¡¯ve noticed something," Steven said, holding the mitts steady as Max fired punches. "You¡¯re good. Honestly, it¡¯s like you¡¯re a natural."


    He nodded slightly, eyes following Max¡¯s rhythm.


    "You pick things up fast, techniques, movements, you see them once and you start copying them. And it¡¯s not just boxing. You¡¯ve got that instinct in other areas too."


    Max kept hitting, keeping his form sharp.


    "But," Steven added, "you¡¯ve got no standout skill. No star talent."


    The words hit harder than any punch. Max didn¡¯t react, but his eyes narrowed slightly.


    "It works now, sure. But in the future, when you face someone with real talent, someone gifted, not just trained, you¡¯re going to struggle. Unless you figure out what your thing is. What makes you different."


    Max gritted his teeth and slammed a punch into the mitt with everything he had.


    Right after, Steven shot a jab so fast it nearly cracked Max in the nose, stopping just short.


    Max froze.


    "If you and I were to fight right now," Steven said evenly, "there¡¯s no doubt in my mind I¡¯d win."


    He lowered the mitts.


    "And out there? There are people way stronger than me."


    He dropped his arms completely, eyes serious now.


    "I¡¯ve heard stories. Monsters. Fighters who aren¡¯t even in official competitions. People who make professional athletes look like amateurs. Guys working for syndicates, hidden from the spotlight. Strength that doesn¡¯t make sense."


    Max stayed quiet, but he knew Steven was right. He¡¯d heard those same whispers, ghost-like figures with superhuman ability. And back then, before everything had fallen apart, he¡¯d been invited into that world too.


    He just never got the chance to enter it.


    Steven looked down, then back up. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I just... I don¡¯t want to see you get hurt, Max," he said, softer now. "I can see it in your eyes. You and your friends, you¡¯re in something serious. Something bigger than this gym."


    He gave a small, awkward smile.


    "To me, it¡¯s like watching the Power Rangers. And I¡¯m just the guy on the sidelines, hoping they win. Hoping they don¡¯t get crushed."


    Steven¡¯s words had been true.


    Max knew that.


    Even in his past life, he¡¯d been a solid fighter, but he¡¯d never quite found what made him special. And now, in a new body, even that foundation felt uncertain.


    But Steven¡¯s concern, his honesty, it had reached Max. And it meant something.


    So he made a decision.


    "There was something I wanted to tell you before," Max said, pulling off his gloves, "but it didn¡¯t feel like the right time. Not after everything that happened."


    Steven raised an eyebrow, watching him closely.


    "I want you on the board of directors for the Bloodline Gyms."


    Steven blinked. "What?"


    "You know people like you," Max continued. "Trainers. Fighters. The kind who can do what you do, teach, guide, protect. The other gyms are growing fast. More students are coming in every day. And I want what you¡¯ve done here to be the blueprint for all of them."


    Max stepped closer.


    "You don¡¯t have to take the job. Or the title. But if you do... I¡¯ll tell you now: I¡¯ll clear every debt in your name. You¡¯ll be paid well. And you¡¯ll be in charge of something that matters."


    Steven just stood there, stunned. Max had no idea the extent of his debts, how long he had them for, how long they had told on his mind, or the fact that they were the reason why he wasn¡¯t there in the first place, why it had stopped him from protecting the others


    "All your debts... cleared?" he asked quietly. "Why would you do something like this for me?"


    They had only known each other for a small amount of time, and even if they had fought side by side, this was something big for the both of them.


    Max gave a small, knowing smile.


    "There is a catch."


    Steven crossed his arms, waiting.


    "I don¡¯t want you cheering the Power Rangers from the sidelines anymore," Max said. "I want you to be one of them."


    He stepped forward, holding out his hand.


    "You being on the board means you¡¯re part of the Billion Bloodline. That¡¯s all I ask. So... will you join?"


    For a moment, silence stretched between them.


    Then, slowly, Steven dropped to his knees.


    He bowed his head to the mat, lifted it, and bowed again, eyes clenched shut as the pressure in his throat swelled.


    His hands trembled slightly at his sides.


    "Max..." Steven¡¯s voice cracked as he raised his head, eyes shining, fists clenched against the mat. "You have no idea what you¡¯ve just done..."


    His shoulders trembled, but his voice grew stronger with every word.


    "I swear to you, I swear, for this, I¡¯ll stay with the Billion Bloodline until the day I die. And those bastards... the ones who hurt us, who think they can break what we¡¯re building..."


    He slammed his fist into the mat with a thud that echoed through the quiet gym.


    "I¡¯ll make them pay."


    Max nodded once, solid and steady.


    "Then I officially welcome you to the team," he said.


    He extended a hand, his tone lighter, but his words carried the weight of something far bigger.


    "You¡¯re our Red Ranger, Steven."

 Chapter 119: Another Joke?

    Chapter 119: Another Joke?School had become something strange for Max, something he never expected.


    A sanctuary. Not because he liked the lessons. He didn¡¯t even attend most of them.


    But because here, in the middle of the noise, he had time to think.


    Time to breathe. Time to plan.


    It was ironic, how a place that once felt suffocating was now the only place where his head felt clear.


    I misjudged Steven, Max thought, absentmindedly spinning his pen between his fingers.


    When I first met him, I thought he was easy to control. Thought his debts would make him desperate. That he¡¯d choose money over everything.


    His eyes drifted toward the window.


    But that¡¯s not it. He values money because of his situation. But what drives him? That¡¯s different. I saw it on his face. The way he trained me. The way he meant every single word.


    Max¡¯s hand stilled.


    He¡¯s a man who chooses his morals over anything else.


    And now, Max had placed him in a position of power.


    Not because Steven asked for it. But because he earned it.


    If I call on him, I know he¡¯ll answer. No hesitation.


    A small smile tugged at Max¡¯s lips.


    Other than Aron, Steven was the first person who felt like a true ally of the Billion Bloodline.


    And Max understood that this, this, was what building a real group meant.


    Not numbers. Not influence. Not fear.


    Trust.


    Because when things get ugly, and they will, you don¡¯t need people around you. You need the right people.


    His smile faded as another thought pulled at him.


    Steven was right, too.


    I¡¯ve been in a lot of fights. I¡¯ve got experience. But experience isn¡¯t the same as greatness. And if I go up against someone truly skilled, someone trained, someone gifted, my instinct alone won¡¯t be enough.


    He slumped forward on the desk, pressing his forehead into his arms.


    His head throbbed. Too many thoughts. Too many unknowns.


    But what am I good at? Steven had said he was good at copying others. Mimicking techniques. Adapting.


    But was that enough? Is being a jack of all trades really a strength?


    He thought of Aron. Cold. Precise. Master of every weapon he touched.


    Max¡¯s hands curled slightly. I need to find what makes me dangerous.


    Joe and Steven both excel at boxing... Jay¡¯s more of a grappler, good with wrestling techniques. Dipter relied on his legs, used kicks like weapons.


    Max leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling as thoughts swirled.


    So what about me?


    Should I just try out different martial arts until something fits?


    I think I tried that in my old body. Nothing ever really stuck. But maybe this new one... maybe it¡¯s capable of something different. Something better.


    Absentmindedly, Max fiddled under his desk, and his fingers brushed against something small.


    Another piece of paper.


    Again?


    He pulled it out, unfolded it, and just like last time, it was a joke.


    Why did the scarecrow win an award?


    Because he was outstanding in his field.


    A laugh slipped out before he could stop it. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "These stupid jokes..." Max muttered to himself, shaking his head. Is it her?


    He scanned the classroom casually, but she wasn¡¯t around.


    How does she keep sneaking these in without me noticing? Either she¡¯s a ninja, or she¡¯s been getting here way earlier than everyone else.


    He smirked.


    And for some reason... she¡¯s getting less annoying by the day.


    When break came, Jay stepped into the room, nodding at Max before sliding into the seat next to him.


    "I¡¯ve got updates," Jay said. "Alliance with Seaton¡¯s holding strong. Clapton hasn¡¯t made any big moves yet, but there¡¯s a lot of talk."


    He lowered his voice.


    "Some schools are debating forming an alliance to take us down. Others... want to join us."


    Max didn¡¯t say anything right away, just listened.


    "I haven¡¯t said yes to anyone yet," Jay added. "But I haven¡¯t shut them down either."


    School politics. Gang politics. It was all one and the same now.


    And Max had made it part of his strategy. He couldn¡¯t ignore it, not anymore.


    But with everything going on... the timing couldn¡¯t be worse.


    As Max stepped out of the classroom for lunch, he didn¡¯t get far.


    Three girls stood right in his path.


    "Hey, Max," Kira said, flipping her hair like she¡¯d practiced it. "I was wondering... are you doing anything this afternoon?"


    "Anything?" Max repeated. "Might be taking a dump. That¡¯s my usual routine."


    Without breaking stride, he walked right past her.


    Kira blinked, completely thrown off. She reached out, but her hand dropped before making contact.


    "That... that wasn¡¯t what I meant..." she mumbled.


    Behind her, the other two girls rushed in.


    "Well? Did you ask him out? What¡¯d he say?"


    "He said... nothing," Kira snapped. Her cheeks flushed red with frustration. "Damn it. I couldn¡¯t even speak properly. That woman, she¡¯s messing with my head."


    "Who?" Nightly asked.


    "That damn Abby girl!" Kira shouted as she stormed off.


    ****


    Walking side by side, Jay glanced back over his shoulder. "Did you seriously just tell a girl you were going for a dump?"


    Max shrugged. "No time for that crap."


    Jay raised a brow.


    "We¡¯ve got someone targeting us right now," Max said flatly. "If she¡¯s not a fighter, not someone useful, then it¡¯s not important."


    ****


    The rest of the day, Max and Jay stayed close, talking strategy, trading info about the strongest fighters in nearby schools, and what might come next.


    The pieces were moving into place.


    Max could see it all in his head, school by school, a network under his control.


    But one part still escaped him: How do I get them all under my thumb?


    He didn¡¯t have the answer. Not yet.


    ****


    When the school bell rang and the day ended, Max walked out with Jay at his side, and a few students trailing behind them, assuming they were heading to the Billion Gym.


    But just past the school gates, everything stopped. A man stood waiting. Beret hat. Camo pants. The air shifted.


    A student stepped back and pointed, panic in his voice.


    "That¡¯s him. Max, that¡¯s Dud!"


    Max¡¯s eyes narrowed. And then the man spoke.


    "Oh," Dud said with a crooked smile. "Looks like I¡¯ve found the right person this time."

 Chapter 120: A Dangerous Play

    Chapter 120: A Dangerous PlayMax had been wondering when the street gang would make their next move, where, and how.


    Would they wait for the weekend? Show up at the gym again?


    He figured they¡¯d gotten a vague description from the students they¡¯d attacked. Maybe even from Dipter himself. But it wouldn¡¯t be from Juvie directly, not just anyone could visit someone locked up in there.


    Which meant one thing:


    The Rejected Corps still didn¡¯t know who Max really was.


    His real identity was still safe.


    ****


    "That¡¯s the guy?" Jay said, stepping forward, fire already burning behind his eyes. "He¡¯s the one that did that to Joe? And he¡¯s just standing there like nothing happened?"


    Jay clenched his fists. "We need to teach him a lesson, right now."


    Max didn¡¯t move at first. He was still processing.


    They showed up here... right in front of the school. Middle of the day. Students around. Witnesses everywhere. Either they don¡¯t care about the consequences, or... they didn¡¯t come to fight.


    "Wait, Jay." Max reached out and stopped him with a hand on the shoulder, stepping in front.


    "Let¡¯s hear him out."


    He turned to Dud, his voice steady.


    "You came here to talk, right? To me?"


    Dud grinned wide, his eyes scanning the students nearby like he was sizing up prey.


    "I can feel it," he said. "The air around you guys, it¡¯s different. Confident. I got fooled before, thought that other kid was the real deal, but now I get it."


    He pointed at Max.


    "It¡¯s you. You¡¯re the one who took down Dipter."


    Max didn¡¯t flinch.


    "Just me," he said plainly. "The others came along for the ride."


    Dud let out a snickering laugh through clenched teeth.


    "You remind me of myself," he said. "And believe me, I¡¯d love to test that mouth of yours."


    His grin faded slightly, voice dropping lower.


    "But since I¡¯ve confirmed you¡¯re the one the boss wants... I¡¯ve got orders. I need to bring you in."


    He tilted his head.


    "Of course, I¡¯m kinda hoping you say no."


    He smiled again, dark and dangerous.


    "Because then... I get to use more extreme methods."


    Jay stepped forward, standing tall beside Max. He didn¡¯t say anything at first, but his presence said enough.


    This guy¡¯s with me. If you try anything, you¡¯re not walking away.


    Even if Dud was from a street gang, even if he was an adult, did he seriously think he could take on a whole school¡¯s worth of delinquents alone?


    Max took a breath, then spoke.


    "I¡¯ll come with you," he said calmly, eyes locked on Dud. "To meet your boss."


    Jay immediately moved, placing himself between them, almost instinctively, his body tense, ready.


    "Max, are you sure about this?" he asked. "Right now, he¡¯s alone. But if you go with him... that¡¯s his territory. I should at least come with you."


    Max shook his head.


    He couldn¡¯t afford to let the Billion Bloodline get dragged into a war, not now. Not when they were still growing. Not when they were still far weaker than the Rejected Corps.


    The others wouldn¡¯t handle it. Not yet.


    Joe getting hurt had already ignited something dangerous in all of them. And Max knew, if a fight broke out now, they¡¯d go too far. Or not far enough.


    Max had to be the one to handle this.


    From experience, he knew: street gangs didn¡¯t go to this much trouble just to beat someone senseless. They wanted something. And the best way to figure that out, was to go with them.


    "I¡¯ve got this," Max said, reaching into his pocket.


    He pulled out a sleek business card and handed it to Jay.


    "Take this."


    Jay looked at it, confused.


    "If you don¡¯t hear from me soon, call this person. Tell him everything. This guy¡¯s height. His clothes. His voice. The car we leave in. Everything."


    Max¡¯s tone dropped, firm.


    "You¡¯ve met him before. He¡¯s reliable."


    This wasn¡¯t like last time. Back then, when the old Max got taken, he had no backup. No money. No access. But now? Aron had access to funds through Warma. Emergency tracking. Contingency plans. Max wasn¡¯t walking into this blind. He was walking in prepared.


    Jay didn¡¯t like it. Not one bit. But he let Max pass, and followed his instructions.


    Max walked calmly behind Dud, who turned to glance back at the students lingering near the gates. That same twisted grin spread across his face as his eyes lingered on them, like he was daring anyone else to try something.


    Soon, Max climbed into a black car with him.


    Nothing special. No tinted windows. No armored plates. Just an ordinary car, like any civilian might drive.


    And just like that, they were on the road, heading deeper into the unknown. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ****


    "You the one who showed up at the gym the other day?" Max asked, staring out the window as the city passed them by.


    "I was," Dud replied without hesitation. "Made a little mistake, though. I was after you, but no one fit the description."


    He chuckled, unfazed.


    "But I knew this much, they had to be strong enough to beat Dipter. So I figured I¡¯d test them myself."


    His eyes flicked toward Max.


    "Guess I was wrong. Was one of them your friend? You wanna get revenge or something?" He smirked. "If it¡¯s a fight you want, I¡¯d love that."


    Max didn¡¯t react. Didn¡¯t blink. His silence said more than words.


    "So," he said instead, cool and focused, "why does your boss want to meet me?"


    Dud shrugged. "How should I know? I don¡¯t ask questions. I follow orders."


    He leaned back in his seat.


    "Dipter was strong. You beat him. That¡¯s all the boss needed to hear. Me? I still think you¡¯re just a dumb student playing tough."


    ****


    Eventually, the car slowed and pulled into a narrow side street, parking beside a warehouse. It wasn¡¯t anything impressive. A large steel structure, its outer walls rusted and cracked, like it had been forgotten by time.


    Max looked around.


    "This your base?" he asked. "Kind of an odd spot."


    "Nah," Dud replied. "Just a quick stop. Got some business to handle before we see the boss."


    From behind the warehouse, a large black truck rolled into view, and stopped. The back swung open with a loud metallic clang.


    Several men jumped out, all wearing camo pants and berets, just like Dud. Their boots hit the pavement in sync. No words exchanged. Just the click of gloves tightening and weapons being checked. Dud stepped out of the car.


    "We¡¯ve got a little gang war on our hands," he said, cracking his neck. "Figured you could use a front-row seat."

 Chapter 121: Call Me Sir!

    Chapter 121: Call Me Sir!Max spotted ten men pouring out from the back of the van, all dressed like Dud. Same boots, same jackets, same dead-eyed look. The only thing that set them apart? A small mark stitched onto the tops of their hats. Subtle, but definitely there.


    I never paid much attention to military stuff, Max thought, squinting. But those have to be rank markings, right? Looks like they¡¯re all wearing the same one, maybe that¡¯s what a private wears? But this guy... he¡¯s got something different. I don¡¯t know exactly what it means, but I can tell he outranks the others.


    But that wasn¡¯t the only thing eating at Max. The word gang war kept looping in his brain like a siren that wouldn¡¯t shut up. That term wasn¡¯t just thrown around. Not even in street gang circles.


    The problem with criminal groups? Most of them weren¡¯t just little neighborhood squads. They were big. Organized. Spread out across different zones, different cities even, and this was the case for even Street Gangs.


    The Pit was an exception. The Billion Bloodline had called on them for help, but that was a weird move. The Pit was known for being scrappy and small, obsessed with fighting more than territory. That wasn¡¯t normal. Most gangs were bigger, more methodical.


    So when someone said "war," they weren¡¯t talking about a single blowout in a back alley. No. It meant constant, ruthless clashes with another crew that matched them in size and strength.


    And it never ended in one night.


    Wars like that hit everything, rival businesses, stash houses, clubs, bars, anywhere money flowed. Each side did whatever they could to cripple the other, step by bloody step.


    There were only three ways it usually ended: one side got completely wiped out, the two bosses made a deal and called it off, or one gang absorbed the other. No matter how it finished, it always came at a cost. People got hurt. People got killed.


    "Come out. You¡¯re coming with us," Dud barked, like this was routine.


    Max stepped out of the vehicle without flinching. "You think I¡¯m gonna run?"


    Dud chuckled, low and sarcastic. "Man, I don¡¯t care. You high school kids always think you¡¯re some kind of gangster. You¡¯ve got no idea what the real thing looks like."


    Max had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes. This guy¡¯s got no clue, he thought. I¡¯ve already lived through worse than anything he¡¯s talking about. I didn¡¯t just survive it, I came out stronger. He¡¯s talking tough to the wrong person.


    "If you want to be part of this world," Dud said, not even looking back, "then you better start living it."


    Max followed a few meters behind, keeping just enough distance to react if Dud tried something sketchy. But he noticed something weird, Dud didn¡¯t seem to care about him. Not like he was a prisoner. Not like he was an asset, either. Just... there. Like Max didn¡¯t matter.


    When they reached the group, the ten men straightened up in a rough line and threw a small salute Dud¡¯s way.


    It was off.


    Max had seen military salutes before, on TV, in real life, at a few parades and ceremonies. This wasn¡¯t that. Some of the guys looked sharp, others were half-assing it. There was respect in it, yeah, but it didn¡¯t have that clean, disciplined snap. More like a crew nodding to their boss, not soldiers answering to a commander.


    Right, Max reminded himself. Dipter said this group, The Rejected Corps, was made up of people who¡¯d been kicked out of their branches. Dishonorably discharged, forced out, whatever. No wonder they don¡¯t act like standard military.


    "Sorry I was a little late, boys," Dud said casually, like he hadn¡¯t just walked out of a shady mission. "Had to take care of another important task."


    "No sweat," one of the men replied. "If you¡¯d been more than fifteen minutes late, we would¡¯ve gone in ourselves."


    "These guys are trickier than they look," another chimed in. "They¡¯re brutal when it comes to tools."


    "Damn right," a third one added, holding up a hand with a missing finger. "Last time, one of ¡¯em chopped this clean off! So now I owe them, what, ten fingers back?"


    The others laughed like it was a running joke. Out in the middle of the street. No shame, no effort to hide it. Just a bunch of half-mad ex-soldiers swapping stories about violence like it was stand-up comedy.


    Even though it was late and they weren¡¯t in a busy part of the city, people were still walking by, some glancing over, most minding their own business. But anyone who stared too long got a look back. Cold. Direct. Enough to make them think twice.


    Max watched them all scurry off. That was all it took, one hard stare from the wrong kind of people, and the street cleared like smoke in the wind.


    When Max finally stepped up beside Dud, the rest of the group clocked him immediately. The red hair. The school uniform. Still in it. Still buttoned up like he¡¯d just walked out of class instead of into whatever this was.


    "The hell is this?" one of the men scoffed. "You babysitting now, Dud? Times really that tough, man?"


    The others burst out laughing.


    "Seriously," the same guy added, "you gotta be desperate to drag a kid along."


    One of them suddenly lunged toward Max, throwing his shoulder forward like he was about to swing.


    Max didn¡¯t even flinch. He just stared past him, following Dud¡¯s eyes, calm as ever.


    "Oh? We¡¯ve got ourselves a tough guy, huh?" the man muttered, backing off. "But for real, why¡¯s he here? It¡¯s gonna be a massacre when we go in."


    Dud shrugged. "Boss¡¯s call. Says he¡¯s a rookie he¡¯s interested in bringing in. So he¡¯s tagging along."


    That shut them up fast. The second Dud mentioned the boss, the mood shifted. The teasing dried up. Faces dropped.


    "A rookie the boss is watching, huh?" said a guy named Rain, whose slick, black hair looked like it hadn¡¯t been dry in days, like he permanently lived in a downpour. "So I¡¯m guessing that means he¡¯s decent at fighting or something?"


    Rain glanced at the others. "Wait... does that mean we¡¯re supposed to protect him?"


    Dud snorted. "Protect him? Hell no. If he can¡¯t survive, then he¡¯s not worth bringing in. That¡¯s the whole point."


    The group turned their attention across the street.


    A sleek, modern restaurant loomed ahead, big glass windows, soft lighting inside, people eating dinner like nothing shady was about to go down right outside. The place looked upscale, the kind of joint that could seat 150 easy. Clean floors, white tablecloths. Polished. Legit-looking.


    But Max knew better.


    One of their establishments? Owned by another gang, maybe. If they¡¯re targeting it, then this city might be even more messed up than Nottinghill. Hard to believe, but... maybe. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Rain turned to him. "Hey, kid. What¡¯s your name?"


    "Max," he said.


    The word barely left his mouth when it happened, a blur, a sudden jolt, Rain¡¯s fist came flying in fast, cracking Max right in the side of the head. His chin took the brunt of it, and he felt the shockwave rattle straight through his skull.


    He hit the pavement hard.


    Max lay there, jaw throbbing, the world slightly tilted. His vision danced, and for a moment, everything sounded like it was underwater.


    Rain stood over him, sneering.


    "You see that, Max?" he said, voice low and venomous. "That means I outrank you. So from now on, you call me sir, you piece of crap high schooler."


    Max groaned, then slowly raised a hand to wipe the spit from his mouth, blood-tinged, warm, metallic.


    He grinned through the pain.


    "Haha... well," he said, dragging the words out just enough, "eat my d*ck... Sir."

 Chapter 122: A Gang War

    Chapter 122: A Gang WarThere was a beat of silence. Everyone stood still, processing what Max had just said.


    Then, like someone hit play on a laugh track, the group burst into laughter, all of them except Rain.


    "You... you think you¡¯re clever, huh?" Rain snapped. "Think you¡¯re funny? I¡¯ve made up my mind already. We don¡¯t need someone like you backing us up!"


    He lunged, fist swinging again.


    But this time, Max was ready. He watched closely, tracking every movement. Rain was pissed, but even angry, the punch came out smooth, fast, clean. Not quite a jab, not quite a hook. Something in between.


    Still, it didn¡¯t land.


    A blur of motion, and suddenly Rain¡¯s fist was frozen in mid-air, caught in Dud¡¯s grip, completely engulfed by his hand. Dud held it steady, his strength pushing back with ease, like Rain was just a kid throwing a tantrum.


    "You think I dragged him all the way here just so you could beat him down?" Dud growled. "If I wanted that, I¡¯d have done it myself. I¡¯m this close to finishing this job, and I want the bonus. So chill. Now."


    With a casual flick, Dud shoved Rain¡¯s arm aside.


    The rest of the group straightened up, the air getting heavier. Max climbed back to his feet, brushing dirt off his pants.


    Gangs don¡¯t work like they do in movies, Max thought. The truth is, they¡¯re just people. Some respect strength, someone who doesn¡¯t just fold at the first hit. Others? They want obedience, someone who listens and follows orders without blinking.


    To survive, you¡¯ve got to read people. Like a salesperson adjusting for every customer that walks through the door. That¡¯s the game. And with a group like this, and a guy like Dud, it was a judgment call. And I figured Dud¡¯s the kind who respects a little crazy.


    The group marched up to the restaurant doors, no hesitation in their steps. Dud didn¡¯t bother reaching for the handle, he raised his leg and kicked the door open with a loud crash.


    The rest of the Rejected Corps stormed in right behind him, spreading out along the walls like they¡¯d done this a hundred times before.


    "Alright, Chalkline boys," Dud shouted, voice booming across the dining room. "You¡¯ve been real busy lately, huh? Beating up one of our guys and thinking we wouldn¡¯t find out? Real smart move."


    Without warning, Dud took off running and leapt straight over a table. Plates, bowls, silverware, all of it crashed to the floor like glass rain.


    He didn¡¯t miss a beat. One solid kick caught a man square in the face, knocking him backward. Then Dud landed, grabbed the guy by the back of the head, and slammed it straight down into his half-eaten meal. The plate shattered under the impact, food flying everywhere.


    The whole room erupted.


    Guests screamed and bolted from their seats, chairs toppling in every direction. A stampede headed for the exits as chaos took hold. And just like that, it became obvious who was involved and who was collateral.


    The waiters, a few of the so-called guests, and several more men pouring down from the second floor were not civilians. Some were in shorts, others dressed casual, but every one of them came armed, brandishing machetes and meat cleavers like it was their version of a welcome mat.


    Then the real fight broke out.


    One of the Chalkline boys hurled a cleaver straight at Dud. He ducked without flinching, then spun and slammed his forearm into the attacker coming at him next.


    The Rejected Corps were already in motion, each member locking into their own brutal rhythm. They weren¡¯t tactical, they were raw, relentless. And they were going head-to-head with the Chalkline crew, a gang that took pride in what they did to their enemies.


    Chalkline. The name wasn¡¯t for show. These were the guys who liked to leave a chalk outline around anyone they put down, whether it was just a savage beating or something way worse.


    And tonight, they were ready to draw a whole new set of outlines.


    A double-edged sword. That¡¯s what the Chalkline name was meant to be. It wasn¡¯t just about fear, it was a calling card. A warning. A signature. We did this. And this? This chaos? This was their message.


    Knives flew across the room like shrapnel. The Rejected Corps didn¡¯t dodge all of them, they didn¡¯t even try. Some of them took the hits on purpose, letting the blades sink into arms or shoulders. Non-lethal spots. They¡¯d been through worse. They pushed forward through the pain, answering every wound with a brutal counterattack.


    From what I can tell, Max thought, eyes scanning the brawl, the Rejected Corps are winning for two big reasons.


    One, they¡¯re not scared of getting hit. The pain doesn¡¯t faze them. If anything, it fuels them. And two, Dud.


    Dud was tearing through enemies like a wrecking ball. He used everything around him, chairs, silverware, plates. At one point, he launched himself across the room, tackled a guy mid-run, and rolled with him on the floor. By the time they stopped moving, Dud had disarmed him and pinned him down.


    He didn¡¯t stop there.


    Fist after fist slammed into the guy¡¯s face until he was out cold. Then, like he had a sixth sense, Dud turned just in time to avoid another sneak attack, ducking, countering, striking back.


    Nothing was off-limits. Dud hurled plates like frisbees, catching his attackers off guard. While they flinched, he followed up with a crushing blow to the jaw. Precise. Vicious. Fast.


    They¡¯re all stronger than Dipter¡¯s crew, Max thought, heart pounding. And Dud... he¡¯s on a whole different level. Stronger than Dipter by miles. The Billion Bloodline wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against these guys. No wonder Joe got taken out the way he did.


    Coming with them today, it was the right call. Now I¡¯ve seen what they¡¯re really capable of. And I¡¯ve got information I didn¡¯t have before.


    Max stood near the back of the restaurant, close to the entrance, watching the chaos unfold. He thought he was out of the way, until one of the Chalkline boys spotted him.


    The guy staggered up from behind a flipped table, a machete clutched in his hand, eyes locking onto Max like prey.


    "Damn it! I thought that guy was already down!" one of the Rejected Corps shouted. "Rain, do something!"


    Rain was the closest. Everyone could see it.


    "You think I¡¯m gonna lift a finger for that kid?" Rain scoffed. "Let him get his head chopped off. He¡¯s not one of us." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max didn¡¯t flinch.


    He kept his eyes on the machete-wielding man rushing toward him. Fast. Wild. Sloppy.


    Something like this, right? Max thought, bracing himself, replaying movements he¡¯d just seen.


    As the man swung, Max sidestepped fast. Clean. He caught the attacker¡¯s wrist mid-swing and turned with it, using the man¡¯s own momentum against him. The twist came hard and sudden, enough force to make the machete clatter to the floor.


    Before the man could react, Max¡¯s leg snapped upward, catching him square in the jaw.


    The man¡¯s head whipped back. He collapsed, out cold.


    Silence cracked through the noise for a second as several heads turned.


    Rain froze.


    The Rejected Corps stared.


    Dud, mid-punch, blinked and lowered his fist just a little.


    "...Did he just... copy that from me?" Dud asked, almost impressed.

 Chapter 123: Stomp Them Out

    Chapter 123: Stomp Them OutMost adults would freeze up if a guy came at them with a blade. Even trained fighters sometimes got tunnel vision, eyes locked on the weapon, brain scrambling to calculate every move. That¡¯s just human nature.


    So seeing Max handle the situation the way he did? That caught the Rejected Corps off guard. All of them.


    He was just a high schooler. No military background. No combat history.


    But the way he moved, quick, focused, deliberate, wasn¡¯t just good. It was professional. He¡¯d disarmed the attacker and dropped him with a single, clean blow. Efficient. No wasted movement.


    What really shook them, though, was how he did it.


    The technique Max used? It wasn¡¯t random. It mirrored some of the exact methods they used. Stuff they were trained in. Moves they¡¯d picked up through years of hard, ugly experience.


    And Max had done it after seeing it once.


    There was no way he¡¯d learned that from some self-defense YouTube tutorial. Watching a move on video and pulling it off in a life-or-death moment? Completely different ball game. And the kind of stuff they trained in? It wasn¡¯t the kind of thing civilians were ever supposed to learn.


    So the only logical conclusion? Max had been watching. Studying. Processing. And in a high-pressure moment, he¡¯d replicated it near perfectly. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That wasn¡¯t luck. That was instinct and skill. And anyone with real experience would¡¯ve been impressed.


    "Will you look at that," one of the Rejected Corps muttered, ducking just as a meat cleaver sailed past his head. Without missing a beat, he caught the attacker¡¯s wrist, twisted it, and forced the guy to stab the blade into his own shoulder before dropping him with a heavy kick. "Guess there¡¯s a reason the boss wants to meet him after all."


    "I never met that Dipter guy," one of the Rejected Corps said, brushing blood off his sleeve. "But I¡¯ve heard stories. If you¡¯re his replacement, kid... I think I¡¯m starting to see why."


    Another member cracked a grin. "What do you think, Rain? Maybe the kid¡¯s not half bad after all. Guess you knew what you were doing when you sucker punched him outta nowhere."


    Rain didn¡¯t answer right away. He just stared across the room at Max, who was still standing by the entrance, untouched.


    The fight was winding down. Most of the Chalkline boys were either unconscious, bleeding, or running. No more knives flying, no more chaos, just bodies on the ground and the smell of blood and broken food in the air.


    Upstairs, Dud was finishing things off in the most Dud way possible, fighting three guys at once.


    They were big, fast, and knew how to swing a blade. But Dud? He looked completely at ease. Confident. Every step he took had purpose.


    He didn¡¯t hold back either. His strikes were brutal, aimed at the neck, quick, relentless shots, not once, but in bursts of two or three, all in the same spot.


    Then one of the biggest men lunged, and Dud pivoted, slipping behind him. One hard kick sent the guy flying into the upper-floor railing.


    Without missing a beat, Dud charged. He leapt, knees first, crashing into the man¡¯s chest.


    The barrier gave way.


    Both of them flew through the air.


    They slammed into a table below, the impact shattering it into splinters. The man¡¯s body hit first, cushioning the fall. Dud landed on top, rolling off like it was just another Tuesday.


    "Good thing the guy was built like a truck," Dud muttered, dusting himself off. "Otherwise I¡¯d be the one getting scraped off the floor."


    He glanced around the room. The Rejected Corps were all still standing, some bloodied, one missing a finger, another barely upright, but alive.


    And then there was Max, still near the door. Still unhurt.


    Dud smiled.


    "So the kid made it through, huh?" he said. "That¡¯s good. Real good. Now I want to test him myself... even more."


    "Alright!" Dud yelled, loud enough for the broken windows to rattle. "Let this be a message to the Chalkline boys, we just hit a major part of your operation. And we¡¯re not done. We¡¯ll be back to clean up the rest."


    The Rejected Corps erupted in cheers. Some laughed, others stomped on the guys they¡¯d dropped, making sure no one forgot who had walked out on top. They moved toward the exit as a loose, rowdy unit, bloodied, bruised, and still proud.


    As Dud passed Max, he glanced sideways. "Looks like you¡¯ve been in a fight or two yourself," he said. "Now I get it. I¡¯m starting to see why the boss has his eyes on you."


    He gave a smirk. "So? How was it? A little different from your high school brawls?"


    Max looked around at the wreckage, shattered tables, unconscious men, blood streaked across tile. Sure, the weapons made a difference. The techniques were more refined. Deadlier. But in his mind, nothing had felt more dangerous than that moment back when Dipter and Snide jumped him. That fear had been real.


    Still, he knew better than to say that out loud.


    If he told them street-level high school fights were even close to this, they¡¯d laugh him right out of the building. Hell, hewould¡¯ve laughed if someone had told him that before.


    Either the streets had changed, or high school kids were getting a lot more dangerous these days.


    As they stepped outside, Max felt Rain¡¯s eyes on him. A few glances, no words. Just quiet tension in the air.


    The rest of the Corps piled into the van. Dud and Max headed toward a separate car.


    "What?" Rain called out. "You¡¯re not letting him ride with us to the boss¡¯s place?"


    Dud didn¡¯t even slow down. "And give you all a chance to beat him into mush? Nah. This one¡¯s got value. I¡¯ve seen enough to evaluate that for myself."


    He opened the car door, glanced back one last time. "Sorry, Rain. You¡¯ll have to wait a while before you get your hands on him again."


    The car pulled out first, with the van trailing close behind. As they drove, Max watched the city blur past the windows, slowly giving way to more open roads and empty space. Streetlights thinned out. Buildings got smaller. Fewer people. Fewer signs of anything normal.


    Where are we even going? Max wondered, watching the skyline disappear behind them. It felt like they were leaving the city entirely.


    Eventually, he started seeing fences, tall, rusted, heavy-duty metal ones, stretching in every direction.


    Is this... an old military base? Max thought. Of course it is. These guys love their theme a little too much.


    Finally, Dud slowed the car and rolled up to a massive metal hangar. It looked abandoned from the outside, weathered paint, bullet-pocked steel, but something about it still felt alive underneath. Like it was holding secrets.


    Dud threw the car into park and stretched his arms like they hadn¡¯t just stomped a gang into the floor a few minutes ago.


    "Alright!" he said, cracking his neck. "We¡¯re here. And the boss is waiting for you."

 Chapter 124: Meeting The Boss

    Chapter 124: Meeting The BossWhen Max stepped out of the car and into the hangar base, something immediately caught him off guard, the sheer number of people.


    It wasn¡¯t just the ten or so guys from the van.


    There were way more.


    Outside, some were lifting crates, hauling gear, or sparring in the dirt like it was routine. A couple of them were just goofing off, drifting cars in wide, loud circles, tires screeching against the cracked concrete.


    In total, Max counted at least fifty members, maybe more. That was a lot. Sure, it matched the number of delinquents he¡¯d fought back in school, but for a street gang? This was a whole different level.


    Compared to a group like the Pit, these guys are stacked, Max thought. Bigger numbers usually mean more power. And this isn¡¯t just a gang... this is something else.


    The whole vibe... it feels like they¡¯re one step away from being classified as a full-blown organized crime group. But if they¡¯re still under someone else¡¯s command, then whoever¡¯s above them must be massive.


    He followed Dud through the open hangar doors.


    Inside, rows of long tables had been set up. Packages were being sorted, taped, labeled, loaded. Guys moved in and out with practiced efficiency. It looked less like a gang hideout and more like a small-scale shipping operation.


    So this is it, Max thought. According to Dipter, this is where they got their packages. Dud¡¯s crew handles the intake, and Dipter¡¯s old crew handled distribution. That¡¯d explain why they¡¯re so large, they¡¯re not just a gang. They¡¯re a subdivision. A part of something even bigger.


    And I can¡¯t forget... somehow that idiot Chad managed to misplace one billion. A full billion, gone. That money¡¯s being filtered down through all the connected groups. Since Dud¡¯s crew is on the lower end of the ladder, they¡¯ve probably only seen scraps of it... but even scraps from a billion could change everything.


    As Max and Dud walked past the rows of tables, Max spotted a longer one set up at the very back of the hangar. Seated at the center was a man who stood out instantly, not just because of where he sat, but because of how he looked.


    He wore a sharp waistcoat and a tall black top hat, like he¡¯d stepped out of another era. Everything about him screamed style and control. At his side stood another man, marked with the same insignia Dud wore.


    If they¡¯re running this place by rank, Max thought, then those two must be equals.


    As they approached, the man in the top hat pressed his hands together with a warm, calculated smile.


    Dud gestured for Max to sit in the open chair. Max slid into it without a word.


    "I¡¯ve been meaning to meet you for some time now," the man said smoothly. "The one who took down Dipter."


    His name was Chrono.


    "I watched Dipter for a while. He was impressive, a strong student with vision. You could tell early on he wasn¡¯t built to follow. He was meant to lead. A bit like myself."


    Chrono leaned forward slightly, his voice calm, but confident.


    "That¡¯s why I offered him the chance to cut ties with his former crew. To work directly with us, but still lead his own group. It was meant to be a partnership, mutual benefit."


    Max nodded politely, but inside, he wasn¡¯t buying it. Sure, he thought, that¡¯s how it might¡¯ve looked on the surface. But anyone who knew the game understood what it really was.


    This wasn¡¯t about partnerships. It was about control.


    The Rejected Corps needed a street-level crew they could keep under their thumb. It was the fastest way to grow, use another gang as a puppet, and leverage that size to gain recognition from bigger syndicates. It was all about leveling up. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the underground world, names and rankings mattered more than most people realized. Street gangs, recognized groups, organized crime groups and syndicates, they were like different species in the same food chain. And the only way to climb the ladder was by winning battles. Making noise. Crushing someone in the tier above you.


    That¡¯s why newer gangs constantly started fights with the bigger players. That¡¯s how they earned a name. And it¡¯s why syndicates liked having smaller crews tied to them, it gave them extra reach, extra muscle, and fewer risks, and less fighting of their own.


    Chrono smiled again, but Max already knew, behind that smile was a long game. And Max was part of it now.


    "I¡¯ll cut to the chase," Chrono said, leaning forward slightly. "Dipter and his crew were supposed to work directly under us. That was the deal."


    He gave a small shrug, casual, almost amused.


    "But then you all had some kind of high school drama, whatever. I don¡¯t care. Dipter¡¯s out of the picture. So now I¡¯ve got a new proposal: I want you to take his place."


    Max wasn¡¯t surprised.


    This was one of the two outcomes he¡¯d already predicted. Either Chrono was going to eliminate him for disrupting business, maybe suspecting he was working with a rival group, or this. An offer. A replacement deal.


    But considering everything so far, the first option didn¡¯t seem likely. Chrono clearly saw it all as a schoolyard scuffle that got out of hand, not a threat to his operation.


    Max raised an eyebrow. "You want me, a high schooler, to join a gang? To do what, exactly? And how do you know you can even trust me?"


    Chrono chuckled. "I get it. Probably not what your guidance counselor had on the job board, huh?"


    He leaned back, voice turning colder, more honest.


    "But here¡¯s the truth: most of us in this life didn¡¯t choose it. We¡¯re not here because of some dream. We¡¯re here because we don¡¯t fit anywhere else. Guys like us, we speak with our fists. We solve problems by breaking things. That doesn¡¯t leave a lot of room for... respectable careers."


    His eyes locked on Max¡¯s.


    "You¡¯ve got three roads in front of you: prison, the hospital, or this. And don¡¯t get me wrong, even as a gangster, you¡¯ll still hit the first two eventually. There¡¯s no glamor here. It¡¯s not a movie. But if you¡¯re going down one of those paths no matter what... why not go down it rich? Why not take what you want while you¡¯re still standing, and maybe even rise to the top?"


    Max didn¡¯t say anything at first, but he could tell one thing instantly.


    Chrono was smooth. The kind of guy who knew exactly how to talk to a delinquent. How to sell power, freedom, and purpose to someone who felt like the world had already counted them out.


    "I don¡¯t need to test your skills," Chrono added, his tone final. "If Dud didn¡¯t think you were good enough, you wouldn¡¯t be sitting here right now. That¡¯s why I sent him to find you."


    "And don¡¯t worry," Chrono continued, his voice smooth, almost friendly. "What I had planned for Dipter? I¡¯ll offer the same to you. Honestly, I didn¡¯t intend to keep using high schoolers like that idiot."


    He tapped the table with two fingers, then slid something across it, a black card with a number printed clean across the front.


    "I¡¯m shifting the approach. I want talent. I¡¯m offering you a direct placement with us. No middlemen. When I need you, I¡¯ll call. Simple as that."


    He gave Max a small nod.


    "You¡¯re also free to bring anyone you trust. Anyone you think has what it takes to roll with us."


    Max glanced at the card.


    The way Chrono said it all made it sound like a choice, like Max could say no, walk away.


    But they both knew that wasn¡¯t the case. This wasn¡¯t an offer he could say no to.


    Max was in. Whether he wanted to be or not, whether the school was still his territory or not, he was now officially tied to the Rejected Corps. Chrono might have ambitions of growing his gang with actual talent, but that didn¡¯t change the fact that Max had just been absorbed into something bigger.


    He gave me a card, Max thought. But it might as well be a leash.


    Chrono leaned back in his chair, calm and final.


    "You¡¯re free to go now. I¡¯ll be calling you soon... and when I do, I expect you to pick up."

 Chapter 125: PIcking A Partner

    Chapter 125: PIcking A PartnerWhen Max walked into school the next day, his mind was a storm.


    In his hand, he kept flipping Chrono¡¯s black card over and over, the name printed across it in clean, sharp letters. Chrono.


    So that¡¯s it, Max thought. I¡¯ve officially joined a street gang... while also building my own. Not exactly the high school experience I imagined. But right now, it¡¯s the best shot I¡¯ve got at surviving.


    He shoved the card into his pocket and kept walking.


    I can¡¯t tell Aron. He¡¯d lose it. He wouldn¡¯t get why I¡¯m doing this, wouldn¡¯t see the bigger picture. He¡¯d think it¡¯s too dangerous, and he¡¯s not wrong. But I¡¯ve got two edges on the Rejected Corps.


    One, they don¡¯t know I¡¯m Max Stern. Not yet. And two, I¡¯m growing the Billion Bloodline right under their noses.


    Still, one name tugged at the edge of his thoughts: Chad.


    What do I even do about him? Max wondered. The Rejected Corps don¡¯t seem too bothered. Probably because he owes money to the group above them, the Blackhounds. That¡¯s a whole different monster.


    The most frustrating part?


    His crew wasn¡¯t ready.


    They weren¡¯t even close.


    For now, Max had to wait. Play the long game. Do what Chrono said. That¡¯s why, in the middle of class, he was casually entering Chrono¡¯s number into his phone.


    Across the room, the teacher glared at him.


    Look at that damn kid, the teacher fumed silently. Ever since he found out about our little secret, he¡¯s been walking around like he owns the place. Now he¡¯s just... on his phone. In the middle of my class.


    "Donto!" the teacher suddenly snapped. "How many times have I told you, stop breathing so loudly!"


    The entire class turned.


    Donto blinked in confusion, pointing to himself like, Me?


    He glanced around, trying to figure out what he did wrong, especially since Max was clearly on his phone, not even pretending to hide it. He¡¯d seen Max sleep through class, text during tests, and not once had the teacher said a word. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Donto¡¯s eyes drifted to the back corner, where Max sat calm, cool, untouchable.


    It wasn¡¯t fair, but nobody said school was.


    "Alright," the teacher said, already irritated. "Who can tell me, out of the following tools, which one would be best for conduction in this scenario?"


    Silence.


    Not a single hand went up.


    The teacher¡¯s eye twitched.


    "That¡¯s it, Donto!" he snapped. "Stop being a distraction to the class and get out!"


    "What?!" Donto shot up, confused and defensive. "I haven¡¯t even done anything!"


    "Exactly," the teacher barked. "You¡¯ve been useless. Didn¡¯t answer the question. Now get out!"


    Donto knew there was no point arguing. With a loud sigh and an annoyed shuffle, he grabbed his bag and walked out.


    Back inside the classroom, Joe was sitting near the back. He was back in school now, bandaged up but patched enough to be on his feet. He¡¯d already said hi to Max that morning, and weirdly, he¡¯d apologized.


    Apologized for not stopping the guys who¡¯d jumped them.


    Max didn¡¯t know how to respond to that.


    It reminded him of something, the way members of White Tiger used to apologize to him after they lost fights. Like they¡¯d let him down personally, just by losing. It was strange, but also... familiar.


    Still, Max had other things on his mind.


    If I¡¯m going to be working with a crew like the Rejected Corps, dangerous, deep connections, real consequences, then I need backup. I need someone I can trust to contact Aron if things go south. Just in case.


    Chrono did say I could bring someone I recommend, right?


    Max scanned the room.


    At first, he thought of Jay. Strong. Committed to the Billion Bloodline cause. Loyal.


    But that strength also came with problems. Jay was confident, maybe too confident. The kind of guy who would act on impulse if he thought something was wrong. He also had a strict moral compass, the kind that didn¡¯t bend easily.


    And in a world like this, rigid morals could get someone killed.


    Max¡¯s eyes shifted again... to Joe.


    Max could already see it happening, something going down between Dud and Jay. A clash. And if that happened, it would turn into the two of them fighting for control, dragging the entire operation into chaos.


    Jay¡¯s out, Max decided. It¡¯s not worth the risk.


    And Joe? He looked over at the bandaged student.


    No... not him either. He¡¯s already been hurt by Dud. Throwing him into a gang like the Rejected Corps would be too much, too soon. Sure, he¡¯s getting stronger, and it might be good experience, but not now. Not like this.


    That left one other name: Steven. His newest recruit.


    Steven¡¯s strong. Reliable. Grateful. He actually listens. Since I put him in charge of the gym network, he¡¯s been working hard to get things running. But... could he even pass as a high school student?


    Max frowned.


    Unlikely.


    On top of that, Steven was busy contacting his old crew to help manage the other gyms under the Billion Bloodline name. Max had just placed him in that role. Pulling him out of it now would create another hole to fill.


    Does it even have to be a student? Max thought. Chrono said I could bring anyone I recommended. But if he starts suspecting I brought in an older friend, it could raise questions I don¡¯t want asked.


    So the criteria got tighter.


    Someone strong. Someone who listens. Someone who won¡¯t act on their own. Someone who can pass as a student. And most importantly... someone willing to do the job.


    Max¡¯s eyes lit up as the answer hit him.


    I think I¡¯ve got the perfect person.


    Without saying a word, Max stood up from his seat and walked straight out of the classroom. No explanation. No glance at the teacher.


    Max stepped over to the nearest window and pulled out his phone.


    Outside, Donto was still standing in the hallway, arms crossed, still salty about being kicked out of class. When he saw Max casually making a phone call, right there in the open, he nearly lost it.


    "What the hell kind of favoritism is going on in this school?" Donto muttered. "This dude just walks out, whips out his phone like it¡¯s nothing, and I¡¯m the one who gets booted for breathing too loud?"


    Meanwhile, Max wasn¡¯t paying attention to anything around him. He had his eyes on the screen, waiting as the call rang on the other end.


    Finally, someone picked up.


    "I¡¯ve got something I think is right up your alley," Max said, voice low and steady. "I¡¯ll pay you for it. But I need you."


    He paused, then smiled slightly.


    "What do you say, Wolf?"

 Chapter 126: What Did You Just Suggest?

    Chapter 126: What Did You Just Suggest?Max ended the call and leaned back, satisfied. He¡¯d gotten exactly what he wanted, Wolf¡¯s help. Not the rest of the Pit, not his crew, just Wolf as a solo act.


    Honestly, it made sense. Wolf looked young enough to blend in as a high schooler, especially if he wore a uniform. No one would suspect a thing. He was sharp in a fight, didn¡¯t have any messy ties to some billionaire family legacy, and most importantly, he didn¡¯t ask questions. If there was money involved, he was in.


    And Wolf hadn¡¯t demanded details either. All he said was, "One hundred grand a day. That¡¯s my rate."


    Yeah. A hundred K. Per day.


    Max had hesitated for a second, it was a ridiculous price, but deep down, he figured that was Wolf¡¯s way of saying he didn¡¯t really want the job. But the second Max agreed, Wolf dropped the tough-guy act and just said, "Cool. Hit me up when you need me."


    Max shook his head, half-smiling. I really hope I don¡¯t end up needing him for multiple days in a row, he thought. That kind of rate would wipe me out fast. Compared to everyone else¡¯s fees, it was off the charts, but understandable. Wolf had his own street gang to deal with, and they were currently under the White Tigers. It¡¯s not like Max could just recruit him. Wolf had his own turf, his own rules.


    Still, Max chuckled. Back when he was part of the White Tigers, he¡¯d never thrown money around like this. But now? Now it was actually solving problems. And fast.


    When he got back to class, Donto was already in his seat. Somewhere along the way, the teacher must¡¯ve told him to head back.


    Max didn¡¯t argue. He just slid into his seat like it was no big deal. Donto looked over, raised his hands, then slapped them down on his knees like he was trying to keep himself from saying something. But after a second, he held back. He bit his lip and stayed quiet.


    Truth was, as much as Donto wanted to say something, he knew the school was a better place because of Max. Whether he liked it or not, things had changed, for the better. So he let it go.


    As soon as Max got to his desk, he checked underneath it like he always did. Sure enough, tucked neatly against the underside was another note waiting for him.


    Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?


    Great food... no atmosphere.


    Still hungry for more?


    He smiled without meaning to. Every day, without fail, there was always a note, same spot, same time. No matter what kind of chaos he had on his plate, that little slip of paper gave him a second to breathe. A tiny slice of peace in his overcomplicated life.


    How does she come up with so many of these? Max wondered. And... is this really her type of humor?


    Lunch rolled around quicker than expected. Max was at the canteen, sitting at a table with Jay and a very injured Joe, whose arm was wrapped like a burrito in a cast and sling combo.


    "Man, I can¡¯t even feed myself properly," Joe groaned, giving Max a look like please have mercy.


    "I¡¯m not feeding you," Max shot back flatly. "I¡¯ve had my fair share of busted hands, trust me. You¡¯ll figure it out. Use your toes if you have to."


    Joe stared at the floor like he was genuinely considering it. "My toes..." he muttered.


    Right then, the sound of clattering trays snapped him out of his toe-dining thoughts.


    Two girls walked up to their table.


    "This spot was starting to look like a total sausage fest," Cindy said with a wide grin as she plopped down across from Max. Abby joined her, sliding into the seat beside her like they did it every day.


    "Maybe we like eating sausages," Joe replied, crossing his arms with a smug look.


    Jay leaned over and whispered something into Joe¡¯s ear. Whatever it was, it made Joe¡¯s ears turn pink.


    "Wait, people actually use that word like that?" Joe blinked, raising an eyebrow. The girls giggled.


    Over the past few days, Cindy and Abby had started showing up at their table more often, like it was just the natural thing to do. Max didn¡¯t mind. And slowly, the others were getting used to them too.


    The conversation stayed casual, random talk about classes, this teacher or that assignment, everyone chiming in now and then. Even Max, who wasn¡¯t exactly Mr. Talkative, joined the flow here and there.


    "Cindy... I hate to ask this, but these guys are useless," Joe said, shooting a look at Jay and Max. "Would you mind picking up those beans and, uh... placing them in my mouth?"


    Cindy gave him a long look. "Did you have to say it like that?" she sighed.


    Still, she grabbed the spoon, scooped up some beans, and jammed it right into Joe¡¯s mouth with zero hesitation. His cheek puffed out like a chipmunk.


    Then, without warning, she yanked the spoon out and smacked it against his front teeth.


    Pain lit up Joe¡¯s face as he raised both hands, wincing like the shock had hit his entire skeleton. "I... I think I¡¯d rather starve than suffer like this!"


    "Wow, are you seriously complaining right now?" Cindy shot back. "You owe me for this. Do you know how many guys would pay to have me feed them? Just a video of me doing it would go viral. Could make millions. You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m doing it for free."


    Joe froze. After that comment, he gave her a quick once-over, subtle, but not subtle enough, then turned his head to the side and mumbled, "I guess you¡¯re not too bad."


    The whole table fell into a rhythm after that. Jokes, dumb comments, teasing, it almost felt like real high school. And like any real high school scene, Cindy was the one to stir the pot a little more.


    "Hey," she said, eyes lighting up. "What if we did a group outing after school?"


    "You mean, like... a group date?" Joe asked, his voice way too loud.


    Instantly, Jay started coughing, choking on a mouthful of food he¡¯d just stuffed in.


    Max gave him a slow side-eye. Oh yeah, he thought. Back when we ran into those girls from Seaton... Jay completely crumbled. Total social meltdown.


    Note to self: Jay¡¯s weakness is girls. Which, yeah, pretty common, but for him, it¡¯s next level.


    "A group date?" Abby repeated, gripping Cindy¡¯s arm. "Come on, we can¡¯t call it that. Besides, it¡¯s not really a group date... right?"


    "You¡¯re right," Cindy said, scanning the table. Her eyes moved from one person to the next, two girls, three guys.


    She squinted. "Okay, wait a sec. I know exactly who we need."


    Without another word, Cindy shot up from her seat and walked off with purpose. The rest of the group exchanged confused glances, listening as distant voices echoed from across the canteen.


    "Hey, where are you even taking me? I was happy eating alone!" someone protested.


    The grumbling got closer until Cindy returned, dragging along a reluctant girl with short hair and a permanent scowl.


    "I would like to introduce you all," Cindy said with a dramatic sweep of her hand, "to our third girl. This is Sheri!" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sheri looked like she wanted to disappear.

 Chapter 127: A Triple Date?

    Chapter 127: A Triple Date?With all three girls now sitting at Max¡¯s table, it was impossible not to notice the shift in the room. Heads turned. Whispers started. The energy in the cafeteria changed like someone had flipped a switch.


    To be fair, Max was already pretty well-known. Ever since his rise in status, people had been watching him. But now? Now they weren¡¯t just staring because of him. They were staring because of who was sitting with him.


    Cindy was the loud, friendly type, the kind of girl who could start a conversation with anyone in the hallway and make it seem natural. She always had her hair done, always dressed like she cared just enough. Confident. Bright. Sometimes a little sharp with her comebacks, but it only added to the charm. Guys liked her, and whether she knew it or not, girls did too.


    Then there was Sheri. Quiet. Distant. Ice cold on the outside, and beautiful in a way that almost felt too perfect to approach. She had this untouchable vibe, like some kind of elegant mystery. The kind of girl who made people nervous. Even if someone did build up the courage to ask her out, they¡¯d probably freeze up after the first sentence, because no one really knew her.


    And then there was Abby.


    At first glance, she didn¡¯t stand out. She wasn¡¯t flashy, she didn¡¯t try too hard. But that was exactly what made her different. There was something easy and natural about her, like she didn¡¯t need to work at being pretty, she just was. Hanging around Cindy all the time didn¡¯t hurt either. It brought her into the spotlight more than most.


    But the real kicker? No one had ever seen all three of them together like this. Sure, it had happened once or twice in passing, but never long enough for anyone to actually believe they hung out as a group. Now they were all at the same table, laughing, talking, eating lunch like it was no big deal.


    And for everyone watching from the sidelines, that was very dangerous.


    "Max gets all the boys, and now he has to take all the girls too?" someone muttered bitterly from another table.


    The jealousy in the room was practically a storm cloud.


    "Hey, if you wanna try stealing them from him, be my guest," one guy muttered from a nearby table. "But I¡¯m not sticking around if he¡¯s holding a pencil, let alone surrounded by food trays. Can you imagine what would happen if you got on his bad side?"


    Back at Max¡¯s table, the atmosphere had shifted. It felt heavier somehow, like everyone was waiting for someone else to speak first.


    Even Max was quiet. He wasn¡¯t sure what to say.


    Sheri sat stiffly at the table, clearly dragged there against her will by Cindy. No one really knew what her connection to Max was, not even the guys she was now sitting across from.


    "Okay," Cindy announced, standing like she was about to give a sales pitch. "I know these three guys look a bit like losers, but I¡¯ve heard they¡¯re actually pretty strong."


    She pointed to Joe. "If you¡¯re not into strength, this one¡¯s at least funny."


    Then to Jay. "This one¡¯s like a big friendly giant." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And finally to Max. Cindy paused for a beat, then smirked. "And this one... is mysterious."


    She gave a little shrug and turned to Sheri. "Since we forced you over here, you get first pick. Choose your fighter."


    Then she glanced over at Abby, mouthing the words don¡¯t worry.


    In her head, Cindy figured there was only a one-in-three chance Sheri would pick Max. And if she did, well... she¡¯d just find a way to shut that down quick.


    Sheri¡¯s eyes moved slowly from Joe to Jay. But when her gaze met Max¡¯s, she froze, and then looked away like she¡¯d touched something hot.


    It had been a while since they¡¯d talked. Too long. She hadn¡¯t even told him the good news yet, that her family¡¯s business had finally stabilized. They were okay now.


    And maybe that should¡¯ve been the end of it. Her ties to the Sterns were over. She didn¡¯t have to be involved with Max anymore.


    But for some reason, she still wanted to be. Even if she didn¡¯t feel like she deserved to be, not after everything.


    Then Max stood up, breaking the silence.


    "Sorry, girls," he said calmly, brushing his hands off on his pants. "A group date sounds fun and all... but I¡¯m gonna have to pass. I¡¯ve been busy lately."


    Before anyone could reply, before they could even ask why, Max was already walking away.


    Joe and Jay exchanged a look, then scrambled to grab their trays and follow him.


    "I¡¯ll try to convince him," Joe said, tossing his tray onto the return counter. "If I can get through to him, that triple date is still happening!"


    Now that school was safer, Max didn¡¯t really need to shut people out, not here, anyway. Inside the gates, he could afford to talk, laugh, maybe even relax a little. But outside... things were different.


    Way different.


    His ties to the Rejected Crops ran deeper now. Deeper than they ever had with Dipter¡¯s crew. And the Rejected weren¡¯t just some street gang, they were volatile, unpredictable, and dangerous on another level.


    That¡¯s why Max kept his distance. He wasn¡¯t trying to be cold. He was trying to protect them.


    Back at the table, the three girls sat in silence, alone again.


    "Maybe we pushed him too far," Cindy said quietly. "Things felt like they were going somewhere, and I just wanted to... you know. Give them a nudge."


    "Were you trying to set something up?" Sheri asked. "Like Max and Abby?"


    "Is it that obvious?" Abby mumbled, pulling her shirt up over her face. Only the top of her forehead, bright red, peeked out.


    "Okay, since this whole mess was my fault and I clearly misread the vibes," Cindy said, hands on hips, "I¡¯m still taking you guys out today. My treat. We¡¯re getting BBQ. End of discussion."


    "You don¡¯t have to. It¡¯s really not a big deal," Sheri said.


    "What¡¯s the matter?" Cindy grinned. "I said it¡¯s on me. So don¡¯t worry if you¡¯re broke, I got you."


    Sheri could already tell there was no way she was getting out of this. Cindy had made up her mind.


    When the final bell rang, the three girls met up like planned. Cindy and Abby were already waiting outside Sheri¡¯s classroom, waving as soon as she stepped out.


    They headed down the street together, choosing to stay local instead of heading into the city. The high street nearby had enough food spots, and more importantly, enough space to feel like they could breathe.


    The three girls kept walking, chatting casually, until, out of nowhere, they felt arms slide around their necks from behind.


    All three froze.


    At first, they thought maybe it was someone playing a prank. But when they turned their heads, they saw unfamiliar faces. Women, teenagers, like them, but none they recognized.


    "Hey there, new friends!" one of them said with a sugary, fake smile. "We heard you girls love bowling. So how about we head out for a fun little game, huh? You like bowling, don¡¯t you?"


    Her tone dipped, the smile curdling into something darker.


    "And if you don¡¯t like bowling... well, I¡¯d be careful."


    Cindy, Sheri, and Abby exchanged a panicked glance. What the hell is going on? None of this felt right. Who were these people?


    As they looked down, they caught it, just barely visible under the girls¡¯ handbags and jackets. A flash of silver.


    Knives.


    Pressed close to their sides.


    Hidden, but very real.


    Another one of the strangers leaned in, voice cold and flat. "Just so you know... no isn¡¯t an option."


    Sheri¡¯s eyes narrowed. That¡¯s when she noticed it, the school crest stitched into the blazer of the girl beside her.


    Seaton Academy.

 Chapter 128: A Day Of Regret (Part 1)

    Chapter 128: A Day Of Regret (Part 1)The three girls were led forward, sharp pressure digging into their sides as the cold metal stayed hidden beneath bags and jackets. Their phones had already been snatched away, confiscated and clutched by one of the girls trailing behind them. No way to call for help. No way to run.


    They were completely on their own.


    Each of them was still trying to wrap their heads around how the situation had spiraled so fast. Just minutes ago, they were talking about barbecue. Now, they were being forced down unfamiliar streets by strangers with knives.


    Cindy was the first to really take in the school uniform.


    Seaton Academy... she thought, narrowing her eyes. Isn¡¯t that the all-girls school? I heard the place was full of delinquents, but this is way outside their usual territory.


    She glanced over at Abby, who was walking stiffly, eyes wide. They were heading into a large park now, its tall trees and open paths giving it a quiet, almost eerie emptiness.


    The area was known for two things: it was in one of the poorer parts of town, and it was home to a run-down bowling alley that barely stayed in business. Locals didn¡¯t go there often. The students from public schools nearby didn¡¯t have extra money to waste on stuff like bowling. And even if they did, they stayed away.


    Everyone knew the place was a hangout for delinquents, especially during the week. Only on weekends, when families came out in numbers, did the space feel safe again.


    Cindy looked back at Abby and caught the subtle tremble in her arms.


    She¡¯s shaking, Cindy realized, heart sinking. This is the second time I¡¯ve been with her, and we¡¯ve ended up in a situation like this. Is it me? Am I the one bringing bad luck?


    Her stomach twisted. And now Sheri and Abby are involved too. I dragged them into this. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But Cindy wasn¡¯t the only one thinking.


    Sheri had also noticed the school emblem. She recognized it immediately. And her mind was racing.


    Damn it, she thought. My parents were just talking about switching schools, moving me out of here and into a new district. Now that our financial situation isn¡¯t so dire anymore, they want everything to go back to normal.


    We still owe so much, Sheri thought, eyes locked on the pavement as they walked. Whoever that corporation is, we¡¯ve been spending money we don¡¯t even have. Our situation isn¡¯t "fixed", it¡¯s just quieter.


    We don¡¯t deserve to be living like everything¡¯s fine... like we¡¯ve made it. And yet... I stayed. Maybe it wasn¡¯t just because of the money. Maybe there was another reason.


    Her thoughts spiraled.


    Why would girls from another school come after us like this?


    Did someone find out who I really am? Are they trying to blackmail me now, squeeze money out of me?


    Sheri was a Curts, after all. Her family had been loaded once, a name tied to real wealth. But no one at this school really knew that. Who would believe that someone with that kind of background would be stuck in a public school anyway? Sheri certainly didn¡¯t advertise it. That wasn¡¯t the kind of thing she brought up.


    Up ahead, the neon sign flickered weakly.


    The bowling alley.


    They were led through the front entrance and past the lanes, straight to the back, toward a round, semi-closed-off cubicle, usually reserved for kids¡¯ birthday parties or private events. It was tucked away just enough to feel hidden.


    As they stepped inside, everything clicked.


    Eyes wide. Stomachs sinking.


    Waiting for them in the booth were three very familiar faces. Faces from their own school.


    Grinning like they¡¯d just won the lottery.


    "Would you look at that," Kira sneered, barely able to contain her laughter. "Who would¡¯ve guessed one stupid little move would come back around and bite you?"


    She leaned forward, enjoying every second.


    "We were only after one of you," she said. "But lucky us, we managed to bag all three in one go."


    There they were, the same three girls they¡¯d run into in the hallway. The ones who had a grudge after watching Max talk to them. The jealousy had been obvious then, but no one expected this.


    Now it was clear.


    They were the ones behind everything.


    Cindy turned to make a break for it, but froze.


    Three more figures had just appeared, flanking the Seaton girls. They wore different school uniforms, none from around here, and their presence was instantly unsettling.


    Their outfits were disheveled, sleeves rolled sloppily, bandages and scuffed-up faces giving them the look of kids who didn¡¯t just get into fights... but looked for them.


    "If you scream or try to run," one of the Seaton girls said coldly, "we¡¯ll make sure you regret it."


    Kira, Nightly, and Susan stood up in unison, stepping aside just enough to reveal a nearby glass room.


    It was usually meant for kids¡¯ parties, long single table that could fit thirty little chairs, a cheap projector mounted to one end of the wall. The walls were glass so parents could keep watch from the outside.


    The kind of room meant for laughter.


    Not this.


    The girls were shoved forward, forced inside, the rest of the group following close behind. The three unfamiliar guys came too, stepping in silently like they¡¯d done this before. The moment they were all in, someone yanked the blinds down, sealing them off from outside view.


    Kira turned toward Abby, her voice low and venomous.


    "Slapping me that day?" she sneered. "That¡¯s going to be the biggest mistake of your life."


    The tension in the room was suffocating. Cindy, Abby, and Sheri were backed into a corner, trapped, outnumbered, unsure what was about to happen next.


    But outside, just a few feet away, not everyone was ignoring it.


    At a table across the main area of the bowling alley, two men sat sipping coffee. Older. Calm. Watching the entire scene unfold.


    One of them reached for his phone, dialed quickly, and held it to his ear.


    "We¡¯d like to make a report," he said, eyes still locked on the now-closed blinds.


    ****


    Meanwhile, Max had wrapped up his school day and was already heading toward the Billion Gym.


    If there was one thing he needed to stay sharp, it was maintaining his physical edge. Lately, during fights, especially against those other school punks, he could feel it. That spark. That power.


    He was getting back to his old self. Little by little.


    If Max could just reach his old self, fully, then situations like the one with Snide wouldn¡¯t even be a challenge. He wouldn¡¯t have hesitated. Wouldn¡¯t have second-guessed anything.


    But deep down, he knew even that wasn¡¯t enough. For what he really wanted to do, he¡¯d have to go beyond that. Past his former peak. Past whatever limits he used to have.


    As he walked toward the Billion Gym, focused and determined, his phone buzzed.


    He glanced at the screen.


    The name on it made him stop immediately.


    A call he couldn¡¯t ignore.


    He answered, already bracing himself. "What¡¯s up? If you¡¯re calling me instead of the other way around... I¡¯m guessing something¡¯s wrong."


    "Yes, sir," Aron replied, his voice steady but serious. "Our security team filed a report. It appears that Abby, along with a few others, has been taken, against their will."


    Max stopped dead in his tracks.


    His voice dropped. "You mean... kidnapped?"

 Chapter 129: A Day Of Regret (Part 2)

    Chapter 129: A Day Of Regret (Part 2)A storm of thoughts crashed through Max¡¯s mind the moment he heard the word taken. Was this Chad making a move? Trying to force Max into a corner, to squeeze him for his wealth?


    Only Chad and Dipter really knew that people were a kind of weakness for Max, or at least for the version of Max he let most people see.


    But then Max noticed something else.


    When he heard the news... his heart had jumped. Not in fear, not even in anger, just sharp. Immediate. Real.


    Aron continued, voice clipped and professional. "The security team you hired was keeping an eye on her. They kept their distance since the situation wasn¡¯t clear and didn¡¯t want to escalate too early. But it appears Abby, and two other students, Cindy and Sheri, were taken by individuals from Seaton Academy."


    Seaton Academy.


    Max¡¯s brow furrowed.


    Isn¡¯t that the school we just formed an alliance with? What¡¯s going on over there? Could it really just be a coincidence?


    "Do you want the security team to intervene?" Aron asked. "I can head over personally if needed."


    Max paused.


    "No," he said firmly. "Just send me the location. I think I¡¯ve got a way to handle this. Keep the team close, on standby. Only move in if things look like they¡¯re about to get seriously dangerous."


    He didn¡¯t expect high school students to go as far as murder. Not in broad daylight. Not in a semi-public place. That would bring way more heat than they could handle, especially with who the girls were.


    None of them were troublemakers. They weren¡¯t fighters, weren¡¯t from gangs or street crews. But they had connections. Sheri, in particular, had people who would raise hell to find her.


    They must¡¯ve gone out today after everything that happened...


    Max clenched his fist lightly at his side.


    I know I¡¯m not exactly to blame... but I still feel responsible. So I¡¯ll take care of this. And maybe find out just how useful this "alliance" with Seaton really is.


    Right after ending the call with Aron, Max didn¡¯t waste a second. He dialed another number. The phone didn¡¯t even ring twice before someone picked up.


    "I¡¯ve got a situation," Max said simply.


    Inside the glass-walled party room of the bowling alley, the atmosphere was suffocating.


    The three girls, Abby, Cindy, and Sheri, had been forced to sit shoulder to shoulder on one side of the long party table. Standing directly behind them were the three Seaton Academy girls and the rough-looking guys who had shown up earlier. Kira, Nightly, and Susan sat across from them, their eyes practically glowing with satisfaction.


    "First things first," Kira said coldly. "I need to pay you back for what you did to me."


    She snapped her fingers. "Synthia, slap the black-haired b*tch."


    Without hesitation, one of the Seaton girls grabbed Abby roughly by the back of her hair.


    "What are you doing?!" Cindy shouted, pushing herself up from the seat.


    But before she could take a step, one of the Seaton girls shoved her back down, hard, and dug her sharp nails into Cindy¡¯s shoulder. Cindy cried out, biting back another scream as the pain shot through her.


    "No one can hear you in here," Nightly said with a chilling giggle. "This room¡¯s soundproof, built for loud birthday parties. So go ahead. Scream all you want."


    With no one stopping her, Synthia yanked Abby¡¯s head to the side by her hair and swung her hand across her face.


    CRACK.


    The slap echoed through the room. Abby¡¯s cheek flared red instantly, the sting blooming across her skin. She could taste iron in her mouth, blood.


    "Hahaha, what did I tell you?" Kira said, grinning viciously. "You should¡¯ve stayed away from Max. Who do you think you are, huh? You said it yourself, you¡¯re not part of his world. And now? Look at you."


    She waved a hand at all three girls.


    "The fact that you can¡¯t even handle this? Proves everything I said. Again."


    CRACK.


    Another slap, this time to the other side of Abby¡¯s face. Synthia didn¡¯t hold back.


    Sheri finally snapped.


    "What do you want?!" she shouted. "Money? An apology? Just say what it is, I¡¯ll give it to you!"


    Kira turned her attention to Sheri, who¡¯d interrupted her fun. But she wasn¡¯t mad, far from it. The situation was still going exactly how she wanted, and that alone had her in a good mood.


    "Didn¡¯t you say I had no idea who I was messing with?" Kira sneered. "That if I touched Abby, I¡¯d regret it?" Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She leaned in slightly, eyes locked on Sheri.


    "Well? Where¡¯s that regret now?"


    Kira laughed, shaking her head. "You three are the ones getting punished. Not me. Like I said, you should¡¯ve listened. Don¡¯t get involved in this world if you don¡¯t already belong to it."


    She broke into full-blown laughter, and Synthia raised her hand again, winding up for another slap across Abby¡¯s already-swollen cheek,


    Click.


    The door opened.


    Kira snapped her head toward the sound. "Who the hell is coming in here now?"


    The laughter died in her throat.


    Three girls entered, each with bright, strikingly dyed hair. Their presence filled the room instantly, the tension shifting in an instant. Synthia immediately dropped Abby¡¯s hair, backing off like she¡¯d just touched fire. The other two Seaton girls froze, visibly nervous.


    Aki stepped forward.


    Her voice was calm. Cold. Dangerous.


    "What¡¯s going on here?" she asked.


    "Boss!" the three Seaton girls said in unison, bowing their heads.


    Sheri¡¯s eyes widened.


    That¡¯s her? The boss of Seaton Academy? I¡¯ve heard rumors... but I don¡¯t even have connections to someone like her. What¡¯s she doing here?


    Aki walked forward without hesitation. The moment she reached Synthia, she didn¡¯t waste a second. With a sudden, brutal kick, she drove the heel of her boot straight into Synthia¡¯s stomach.


    Synthia doubled over with a sharp gasp, collapsing to her knees.


    "Who gave you permission to lay a hand on them?!" Aki shouted.


    "Aki... wait, please," one of the Seaton girls stammered, her voice trembling. "We only did this as a favor. We go way back with Kira, from middle school. We didn¡¯t think it was a big deal. We¡¯ve done stuff like this before. Other people have too. We thought it was just... you know, nothing major."


    CRACK.


    Aki¡¯s hand lashed out, slapping the girl across the face so hard she nearly hit the floor. The smack echoed off the glass walls, silencing the entire room.


    "You idiots!" Aki shouted. Her voice thundered with fury. "You have no idea what you¡¯ve done. You don¡¯t know who these girls are. You don¡¯t understand the people you just dragged into this."


    Her chest rose and fell as she tried to rein herself in, but the rage was clear.


    "Do you know how badly this affects all of us? After everything I¡¯ve done, everything, to protect our school¡¯s name, to build stability... you just burned it in five minutes."


    Then, she turned her gaze on Kira.


    Aki¡¯s voice dropped, but it was more dangerous than before.


    "It was you, wasn¡¯t it?" she said, stepping forward. "You were the one who asked my girls to pull this stunt?"


    Kira didn¡¯t answer. She couldn¡¯t.


    The look in Aki¡¯s eyes burned straight through her.


    And for the first time since this all started... Kira actually felt fear.

 Chapter 130: You know Somone Already

    Chapter 130: You know Somone AlreadyAki and the girls from Seaton Academy weren¡¯t just delinquents, they were known for going further than most. They did what they had to do to survive, to win, to take whatever the world refused to hand them. And sometimes, that meant using their fists.


    This was one of those times.


    Without a word, Aki shifted slightly, her silent signal.


    Nightly and Susan immediately panicked, bolting from their seats and trying to make a run for the door.


    It was all too late.


    The two girls at Aki¡¯s sides moved fast. In a blur, they each drove a solid kick into Nightly and Susan¡¯s stomachs, folding them over with gasps of pain. Then, SLAP, a heavy palm strike across each of their faces snapped their heads sideways.


    But it didn¡¯t end there.


    Both attackers grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked the girls back, only to drive brutal punches into their chests. The blows sent them airborne for a split second before they crashed onto the hard floor. Before they could even groan, each girl had a foot planted firmly on her stomach, weight pressed down, hard, pinning them in place.


    Across the room, the guys who¡¯d helped capture the girls were watching, unmoved, even entertained.


    "These ones are a little rough, huh?" one of them said, chuckling. "Not like the sweet little angels we¡¯re used to."


    Aki gave them a cold glance but didn¡¯t waste a word. She turned her focus back to Kira, who was still seated across the table.


    "It¡¯d be smart if you didn¡¯t try to run like your friends," Aki warned, slowly balling her fist.


    Kira¡¯s eyes widened. "Wait, I, !" She threw her hands up, palms out, scrambling to defend herself.


    Too slow.


    Aki¡¯s fist slammed into the side of Kira¡¯s mouth.


    It wasn¡¯t a sharp sting, it was worse. It was the kind of hit that left her whole face numb, her vision blurred, her balance gone. Her ears rang, and for a second, everything around her vanished into white noise.


    She¡¯d been slapped before, Abby¡¯s hit came to mind, but this was nothing like that.


    This was real.


    Her whole body went limp, adrenaline crashing into her bloodstream as she started to tremble. Just as her head lulled forward, a strong hand grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her upright again.


    Aki grabbed a fistful of Kira¡¯s hair and slammed her face down hard against the table. The side of Kira¡¯s cheek smashed against the cold surface, skin flattening, pain blooming instantly.


    "You dragged my girls into this, for what?" Aki barked, her voice raw with fury. "For some stupid, petty grudge?!"


    She yanked Kira¡¯s head up, forcing her to meet her eyes.


    "Tell me, what pathetic reason made you think this was okay?!"


    Then, WHAM, she slammed Kira¡¯s face down again, the sound cracking through the air.


    Kira felt something shift in her mouth. Her tooth. Loose. Blood pooled at the edge of her lips, warm and metallic.


    "You think your dumb little actions don¡¯t have consequences?" Aki shouted, voice shaking with rage. "Your selfish choices screw up more than just your life, you selfish b*tch!*"


    Another slam. The third.


    Each time her head hit the table, Abby, Cindy, and Sheri flinched. Their eyes were wide, hearts hammering in their chests. They didn¡¯t even know who they were supposed to be scared of anymore.


    Was Aki here to save them... or had something worse just walked into the room?


    "I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m sorry!" Kira cried, her voice garbled through her bloody, bruised mouth. "I was just jealous... I was mad they were talking to Max... I¡¯m sorry!"


    The confession didn¡¯t surprise anyone. The girls had suspected it all along. But hearing it out loud didn¡¯t make it better.


    It made it worse. Aki wasn¡¯t done.


    "You let jealousy over a boy drive you to this? And you didn¡¯t even do the dirty work yourself, you used my girls?!" she screamed.


    Without warning, Aki lifted Kira completely out of her chair by the hair and flung her across the room.


    Kira slammed into the wall with a heavy thud and crumpled to the ground. She didn¡¯t move. Not because she couldn¡¯t, though her limbs felt like jelly, but because she was too scared to.


    If she stood up, if she made even a wrong breath, she knew... she¡¯d get hurt again.


    "You are never to call on anyone from Seaton Academy to do your dirty work again," Aki snapped, voice cutting through the air like a blade. "And you are never to lay a finger on these three girls. Not even a single hair. You understand?!" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I, I understand! I understand!" Kira cried, her body still trembling as she curled into herself on the floor.


    Even though Cindy, Abby, and Sheri had been dragged here against their will... even though they¡¯d been threatened with knives and slapped across the face... somehow, in this moment, they could only feel a little bad for Kira.


    Only a little.


    Aki turned to them, her expression softening just enough.


    "You three," she said, stretching her hand out and pointing toward the door. "You¡¯re free to go. Leave this place, forget this day ever happened. And if anyone ever gives you trouble again... just tell them you know Aki from Seaton Academy."


    A small smirk crept across her face as she added, under her breath:


    "Though it seems like someone even greater than me is already looking out for you."


    "Come on!" Cindy said, grabbing Sheri and Abby by the arms. "We¡¯re out of here."


    The three moved fast, slipping out of the room. But just before they exited, Sheri slowed and glanced back, drawn by a strange feeling she couldn¡¯t shake.


    That¡¯s when she saw it.


    The leader of the Seaton girls, Aki, had a jacket on. And across the back of it, printed in bold, was a blood-red droplet and words underneath:


    Bloodline Gym.


    Sheri blinked. Had that been there this whole time?


    Now that she noticed it, she saw it on all the Seaton girls. Even the ones who¡¯d threatened them earlier. Each of them wore something, jackets, patches, wristbands, all with that same logo.


    Bloodline Gym... is that some kind of group?


    Then something clicked in her memory.


    Didn¡¯t Mom say the company that saved us... the one that bailed out our family... was called Billion Bloodline VC?


    Her heart skipped.


    Could they be connected somehow? A gym and a private venture capital firm? What would delinquents like this have to do with a company that powerful?

 Chapter 131: Knowing The Right People

    Chapter 131: Knowing The Right PeopleThe three girls walked hand-in-hand, glancing back several times as the door to that room, the one they¡¯d been trapped in just minutes ago, finally swung shut behind them.


    They still didn¡¯t fully understand how they¡¯d gotten out of it. The whole thing felt like a blur, too fast, too intense. But none of them wanted to stick around long enough to ask questions.


    Instead, they left the bowling alley completely, not stopping until they were out of the park and back on a busy street, surrounded by the noise and movement of everyday life.


    Even with all the people walking by, they didn¡¯t feel safe.


    Not really.


    "What was that back there?" Cindy asked, still a little breathless.


    "I don¡¯t know," Abby said, "but it felt like there was some kind of internal fight going on. Like... they were all from the same group, right? I think the girls Kira brought in belonged to that other girl too, Aki or whatever her name was. And for some reason... she chose to help us."


    They kept walking, trying to make sense of it, until they noticed Sheri hadn¡¯t said a word. She was staring off into space, her expression blank, like she wasn¡¯t even there.


    "Sheri, are you okay?" Cindy asked softly. Then she sighed. "What am I saying? Of course you¡¯re not okay. None of us are."


    Cindy reached into Sheri¡¯s coat pocket and pulled out her phone. She tapped through the screen and quickly dialed her own number, holding it to her ear until it rang.


    "This is my number, alright?" she said, pressing the phone back into Sheri¡¯s hand. "If anything happens again, anything at all, you call us. I don¡¯t know what those people are capable of, and I don¡¯t care. You don¡¯t deal with it alone."


    Sheri finally blinked, snapping out of her daze. She looked down at the phone in her hand, then back at her friends.


    "There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been thinking about," she said slowly. "Have you ever heard of a group called the Billion Bloodline... or Bloodline Gym?"


    Cindy and Abby exchanged a look.


    "Those girls... they were all wearing the same logo," Sheri continued. "That red blood drop? It was on jackets, wristbands, everything. I didn¡¯t notice it at first. But when we were leaving, it hit me."


    She hesitated.


    ¡¯My mom mentioned the name Billion Bloodline VC before. Said they were the company that saved my family. But I don¡¯t get it. What does a gym, filled with fighters like them, have to do with a corporation that powerful?¡¯ Sheri thought, and didn¡¯t say it out loud.


    What the girls didn¡¯t know, what no one at school really knew, was that the delinquents from Seaton only wore the Bloodline Gym merch under specific conditions.


    They didn¡¯t flaunt it on school grounds. It wasn¡¯t about showing off. They wore it when they trained outside school, or when they had to handle... certain kinds of business.


    To most students, it was just gym gear. Nothing more. Nothing worth paying attention to.


    ***


    Back inside the bowling alley, the two men seated near the entrance, who¡¯d been quietly monitoring everything, picked up the phone again.


    "Yes. The three girls exited safely," one of them said in a low voice. "They left after others entered the room. The rest of the group hasn¡¯t come out yet... We¡¯ll stay put and keep watch. Just give us the word."


    He ended the call and set the phone back down on the table.


    ****


    In the glass-walled party room, the scene had changed.


    Aki stood over the Seaton girls, Synthia, and the two others, now kneeling on the floor. Synthia¡¯s cheek was still visibly swollen, red from where Aki had struck her earlier.


    Aki crossed her arms, disappointment simmering in her expression.


    "What the hell were you thinking?" she said. "Doing something like this just because a girl from another school asked you to?"


    Synthia looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "Aki... we don¡¯t understand. What did we do that was so wrong?"


    Aki exhaled through her nose, hard. "You should understand. You should know exactly what you did."


    She stepped forward.


    "That school, their school, we formed an alliance with them. You know what that means? It means from now on, they¡¯re off-limits. We don¡¯t mess with them. We don¡¯t touch them."


    Her voice dropped, heavy with warning.


    "And you didn¡¯t just mess with a few randoms... you laid hands on the wrong ones. Bad enough I might not be able to clean this up on my own."


    The three girls looked up at her, faces pale, reality finally sinking in.


    "Lucky for you," Aki continued, "it doesn¡¯t look like those girls were hurt too badly. We¡¯ll shift the blame if we have to. Twist the story. But I want you to know, I¡¯m doing this for you. Don¡¯t mistake it for mercy."


    Without thinking, Synthia stood up, stumbled forward, and wrapped her arms around Aki. Her shoulders shook as tears slid down her face, soaking into the back of Aki¡¯s jacket.


    "I¡¯m sorry," she whispered.


    Aki didn¡¯t return the hug. But she didn¡¯t push her away either.


    If there was one thing the Seaton Academy girls truly appreciated, it was that Aki genuinely cared about them.


    She wasn¡¯t just tough. She was protective. And they knew that.


    "I¡¯ve done a lot for us," Aki said quietly, her voice raw with exhaustion. "I didn¡¯t want to see everything we¡¯ve built go to waste. We don¡¯t have to live the way we used to. We don¡¯t need to throw ourselves into danger anymore. We don¡¯t have to date people we don¡¯t even like just to survive."


    She looked at each of them.


    "Things can be better. So don¡¯t pull a stunt like this again."


    All three girls stood and pulled each other into a tight hug, a silent promise passing between them.


    But the moment was cut short by low snickering behind them.


    The men in the room, the ones who¡¯d been watching silently this whole time, finally spoke up.


    "Oh, I see how it is," one of them said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "We¡¯re just tools to be used, huh? Disposable muscle? So all this time you¡¯ve been playing us."


    He stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "If that¡¯s true... then I guess you don¡¯t mind if we use you however we want too."


    The girls immediately stepped back, instincts flaring.


    "I was just speaking generally," Aki said carefully, her tone shifting. "It¡¯s been a long day. Tensions are high. Let¡¯s all just head out and cool down, alright?"


    She stepped past them slowly, her presence still commanding, her expression unreadable.


    But as the group began to leave, the mood shifted again.


    Synthia was near the back of the group when one of the men, Fallen, reached out and grabbed her wrist.


    "Hey, Synthia... it¡¯s not true, right?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You weren¡¯t just using me to beat up whoever you wanted, were you?"


    His grip tightened around her wrist.


    "Because if you were... I¡¯d be real upset."


    "F-Fallen, you¡¯re hurting me. Let go," Synthia said, her voice shaking.


    "No!" he barked. "I don¡¯t like being treated like trash!"


    With a sudden shove, he threw her backward, her body slammed into the edge of the table.


    "Stop it!" Aki shouted, rushing toward them.


    But just as she reached them, one of the other guys swung an arm without warning, and his fist cracked right into Aki¡¯s face.


    "Man," one of the guys said, glancing around, "there¡¯s a lot of women in here."


    His smirk widened.


    "And you heard what they said about this room, right? Soundproof. No one¡¯s hearing anything from in here... I can think of a few things we could do."


    The girls immediately huddled together, stepping back instinctively. Their eyes scanned the room for exits, none close enough. Panic was setting in.


    Then,


    BANG.


    The door burst open.


    Three adult men stormed in, wearing casual, mismatched clothes, but their presence was anything but random.


    "Get them," the lead one ordered without hesitation.


    The room exploded into motion.


    One of the men stepped forward and swung with brutal precision, his fist connecting squarely with a student¡¯s chin. The boy dropped instantly, unconscious before he hit the floor.


    The others tried to fight back, but they didn¡¯t stand a chance. The newcomers moved like trained fighters, slipping past every punch and retaliating with punishing blows to the gut, ribs, and head. One after another, the students dropped.


    The last guy was slammed against the ground, his arm twisted behind his back. He didn¡¯t move.


    "Everyone out. Now," the lead man commanded. "Take the girls who are down too."


    Aki, stunned but composed, nodded quickly. "You heard him! Move!"


    The Seaton girls scrambled to lift the unconscious ones, carrying them toward the exit. Aki herself helped guide them, checking to make sure everyone, even the girls who weren¡¯t theirs, was getting out.


    As she reached the door, she turned back toward the three men who¡¯d come to their rescue.


    "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you with the police?" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The man smiled faintly and shook his head.


    "Our client told us to protect anyone wearing Bloodline gear. So... we¡¯re just doing our job."


    Aki blinked, processing that.


    She nodded, then offered a slight bow of her head. "Tell your client... thank you."


    The man gave her a look that held weight, then replied with a half-smile. "I will. And it seems like you know how to make friends with the right people."

 Chapter 132: Receiving An Order

    Chapter 132: Receiving An OrderWith the chaos finally over, the six Seaton Academy girls made their way to one of their usual spots, a place that always felt like neutral ground.


    Aki¡¯s aunt, Coco, owned a nearby hair salon. She was a hairstylist with a loyal clientele, and more importantly, she gave Seaton girls a standing discount. It was always packed in the afternoons, but the girls didn¡¯t mind. It was close to school, in their territory, and surrounded by people who knew better than to mess with them.


    This time, it wasn¡¯t just Aki and her two closest friends. Synthia and the others, still shaken from what had happened, tagged along too.


    The moment they stepped into the salon, Coco looked up from her workstation, eyeing them like she could smell trouble before it walked in the door.


    "You girls always up to your dangerous business," Coco muttered, not even pausing as she brushed dye through a customer¡¯s hair. "I¡¯ve turned a blind eye ¡¯cause none of you have come back broken. But that luck runs out. One day it will."


    "We¡¯re trying to be more careful," Aki said, holding her voice steady. "I¡¯m trying to get everyone away from that stuff. We¡¯re fine... right?"


    "Most of you," Coco replied dryly, her eyes landing on Synthia¡¯s face, still red and bruised from earlier. She didn¡¯t know Aki was the one who left the mark, but the concern was clear.


    "What even happened back there?" Synthia asked quietly. "Those guys... the ones who saved us. I really thought it was over. I thought we were done."


    The Seaton girls had always relied on control, blackmail, recordings, information leverage. It had been enough to keep people in check. People didn¡¯t fight back when there were consequences waiting on camera.


    But this time... this time was different.


    Aki leaned back in her seat, her eyes trailing over the tile floor.


    She remembered the words. Her aunt¡¯s warnings. And Max¡¯s voice too, echoing in her head:


    "Sooner or later, you¡¯ll run into someone who doesn¡¯t care about consequences."


    Today felt like they¡¯d come way too close to that.


    "Didn¡¯t those guys say they helped us because we were wearing Bloodline Gym stuff or something?" one of the girls said, her brow furrowed in confusion.


    "Wait, seriously?" another girl, one who hadn¡¯t been there for the whole scene, spoke up. "You mean these clothes?" she tugged at the branded hoodie. "The gym you dragged us to join, that¡¯s why we got saved? What are you even talking about?"


    The group went quiet for a beat before Synthia and the others started explaining everything.


    They told them about how their boyfriends, guys they trusted, turned on them in the middle of the bowling alley. How things had spiraled fast, and no one knew what would happen next. And then, just as it got bad, three adult men had walked in and taken control, saying they¡¯d been instructed to protect anyone affiliated with Bloodline Gym.


    By the time they finished, there were more than a few raised eyebrows.


    "Didn¡¯t we only join the gym because of that alliance Max made?" one girl asked. "So... are those men part of the alliance too? Maybe this group is way bigger than we thought. Maybe it¡¯s not just about school."


    Aki sat back, arms crossed, thinking. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That actually made the most sense.


    Why bother clinging to a school name, she thought, when we could operate under something bigger... something with real reach.


    Because the truth was, they hadn¡¯t been saved because of luck. The only reason they were protected, really protected, was because of the alliance. And even more than that... because of who made the alliance.


    What confirmed it for Aki was simple: she hadn¡¯t shown up on her own. She¡¯d gotten a call.


    From Max.


    He had asked her to step in. To help his people.


    And now, it all clicked.


    "I think you¡¯re right," Aki said aloud. "How else would Max have even known those girls were in trouble? He must¡¯ve been watching the whole time."


    She looked around at the others.


    "He could¡¯ve stepped in himself, but he didn¡¯t. I think he was testing us, testing this," she said, motioning vaguely to the Bloodline logo on her jacket. "Testing to see if we could handle something on our own. If this alliance... actually means anything."


    "So Max has those kinds of connections?" Synthia asked, eyes wide.


    Her voice was low, thoughtful. The words of the man who¡¯d saved her still echoed in her mind:


    ¡¯Looks like you¡¯ve made friends with the right people.¡¯


    Aki stood up from her seat and clapped her hands together with sudden energy.


    "Alright, Auntie Coco!" she called. "Today, I need you working overtime! Every girl here, head to toe, needs to look their absolute best. I¡¯m talking hair, makeup, everything. And dig up as much Bloodline Gym merch as you can find!"


    Some of the girls immediately snapped to attention, already rummaging through bags and pulling off jackets to prep. Coco raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t protest. If Aki was serious, she was in.


    "Well, alright... but what are you up to now?" Coco asked, chuckling as she reached for her comb and dye kit. "You starting a gang fashion show or something?"


    Aki grinned. "I¡¯m making sure he knows we¡¯re useful."


    "I didn¡¯t think it was important at first," she admitted, "but now I see it differently. He asked us to model the merch. I thought it was just for show, but maybe it¡¯s way more important than I realized."


    She paused, her eyes sharp with determination.


    "He gave us a chance. So now we¡¯re going to make sure he doesn¡¯t regret that alliance."


    She said the name like it meant more than just a deal. Like it was a promise.


    ****


    Meanwhile, across the city...


    Max stepped into his apartment just as Aron stood waiting in the entryway, his usual calm expression in place.


    "So, the situation played out exactly the way you expected," Aron said. "Good thing you kept the security team on her."


    Max nodded slowly, sliding off his jacket. "Yeah. I didn¡¯t think Sheri would end up getting caught in it too. Now all three, Abby, Cindy, Sheri, they¡¯re connected to Billion Bloodline... whether they know it or not."


    He stepped deeper into the room, his voice steady.


    "And it¡¯s in our best interest to make sure they stay safe."


    Aron gave a subtle nod.


    "You handled it well," Max continued. "Keep tracking the family movements. If anything shifts, I want to know right away. As for me... I¡¯ll deal with my own mess for now."


    There was a moment of silence.


    Aron¡¯s eyes flickered downward, a trace of disappointment on his face. It was clear he wanted to be involved in everything, not just the external threats, but Max¡¯s personal world too.


    But Max turned his back before Aron could say anything else.


    Just as Max stepped into his apartment and tossed his bag onto the couch, his phone started pinging.


    Once.


    Twice.


    Then nonstop.


    He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Notifications were flooding in, specifically from his Binstagram account.


    It was the page he¡¯d set up for Bloodline Gym, mostly as a test. He hadn¡¯t expected much from it yet.


    But what he saw made him pause.


    He was tagged in several new posts.


    Tapping through, his eyes narrowed, then a smirk started forming.


    Photos. Dozens of them. Posed shots. Candid group pics. Styled outfits with the Bloodline logo front and center. Aki and the Seaton girls were showing off their gear like they were models on a mission.


    "Huh," Max muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Those girls are really putting in work..."


    The photos were actually good. Clean, eye-catching, confident. The kind of stuff that made people stop scrolling.


    Then the next wave of pings hit his screen.


    [You¡¯ve received an order]


    [You¡¯ve received an order]


    [You¡¯ve received an order]


    His feed lit up with sales notifications, one after another, coming faster than he could check them.


    The more he watched, the more the numbers rolled in.


    And the bigger his smile grew.

 Chapter 133: Your First Mission

    Chapter 133: Your First MissionThe next day at school, lunch rolled around like usual, and the familiar six had claimed their usual spot in the canteen.


    Jay, Joe, and Max on one side of the table. Cindy, Abby, and Sheri on the other.


    Sheri had been pulled along again, though this time she hadn¡¯t resisted much. Normally, she preferred to eat alone. Sure, a few people might sit at the same table, but they rarely said a word to her. So when Cindy basically dragged her over, she was hesitant... but deep down, a little glad to be included.


    As they sat down, it didn¡¯t take Cindy long to start talking. She wasted no time jumping into what happened the day before.


    She told them about the Seaton Academy girls, about the ambush, and even mentioned that some of the girls behind it were from this very school. Of course, those girls conveniently hadn¡¯t shown up today.


    But before Cindy could finish her story,


    THUD.


    Jay¡¯s fist slammed against the table.


    "Those Seaton Academy girls?!" he said, eyes wide. "I can¡¯t believe they pulled something like that, after we formed an alliance with them!"


    "Hey, calm down, big guy," Joe said, raising an eyebrow. "Clearly everything worked out. I mean, just look at these three. They¡¯re glowing." He flashed a wink that made Abby roll her eyes and Sheri look away. A shared internal cringe passed silently between them all.


    Still, Jay wasn¡¯t letting it go.


    "We should talk to them, Max," he said, leaning in. "What¡¯s the point of an alliance if they¡¯re out here threatening girls from our school?"


    "Wait, wait!" Cindy interrupted, holding up both hands. "You didn¡¯t let me finish."


    She leaned forward.


    "There was this girl, Aki. She¡¯s the one who came in and actually saved us. She¡¯s from Seaton too. So technically... they did help us."


    Jay¡¯s clenched jaw slowly relaxed. He sat back, still frowning, but the fire in his eyes was fading.


    Max and Joe exchanged a glance. Jay really was a sweet guy, fiery when he cared, but his heart was always in the right place.


    Now that Max was thinking about it, Aki hadn¡¯t just helped the girls.


    She had helped him, too, even back when they weren¡¯t on the same side.


    "Wait," Abby said suddenly, breaking his thoughts. "We were wondering earlier, why did that Aki girl fight against her own people to help us? Could it have been because of this... alliance?"


    "What do you mean you guys have an alliance with them?" she added, looking at each of the boys.


    The question made Jay, Joe, and Max exchange a few quick glances.


    They rarely talked about the state of the school, or what happened outside of it, with the girls. Not because they didn¡¯t want to, but because... how would they even start to explain the kind of world they were part of? A world full of codes, conflict, and unspoken rules.


    Joe finally broke the silence.


    "It¡¯s just like... an agreement," he said. "You know, there are troublemakers everywhere. Kind of like Dipter was here."


    He leaned back slightly, trying to keep his explanation surface-level. "If someone from their school sees someone from our school in trouble, they help. And we do the same. That¡¯s what the alliance is about."


    The other two were quietly relieved, Joe had actually explained it well without diving into the rougher, more violent parts of what that alliance sometimes meant.


    But then Sheri spoke up.


    "Does the alliance have anything to do with the Bloodline Gym?" she asked.


    The table fell still.


    That caught even Max off guard. Sure, plenty of delinquents trained there, but it was still kind of a niche thing. Most regular students didn¡¯t pay attention to the logo.


    "I saw those girls from Seaton wearing it," Sheri continued. "And I think I¡¯ve seen a few students here wearing it too. Is it like... part of the alliance? Is everyone connected by the same clothing or something?"


    Jay looked over at Max, unsure of how to answer.


    More importantly, unsure of how Max wanted it answered.


    Then Max casually placed his phone on the table and slid it toward the center.


    "It¡¯s not like that," Max said. "It just seems like the brand¡¯s trending right now."


    He scrolled through the Bloodline Gym Binstagram page. Post after post showed students from different schools, guys, girls, athletes, fighters, all wearing the same streetwear. The signature logo was everywhere. The captions were filled with hashtags, location tags, and subtle nods to something deeper.


    The others leaned in as Max flipped through, and someone pointed out one post.


    "That¡¯s them," Cindy said, pointing at the screen. "Those are the Seaton girls from yesterday."


    Max smirked slightly but said nothing.


    Because he knew the truth.


    The brand wasn¡¯t just trending, it was moving. Quietly building something bigger than anyone at that table fully realized.


    "Oh, so they¡¯re being sponsored by the company, then?" Cindy said, watching the phone screen. "Makes sense. I¡¯ve heard of brands doing stuff like that. Wasn¡¯t that how another gym brand started too, Gym Fish or something?"


    Sheri¡¯s face fell just slightly at the comment. The explanation was logical, typical even. A company investing in a gym, some branded clothing, a few influencer types... nothing strange about that.


    Still, she felt a twinge of disappointment.


    Why? she thought. That¡¯s the more normal answer, right?


    But it didn¡¯t feel satisfying. It felt... off.


    "I didn¡¯t realize you were into fashion, Max," Abby said, teasing gently. "You knew about this trend before the rest of us."


    "Just heard some people talking about it in class," Max replied coolly, sliding his phone back into his pocket like it was nothing.


    Abby smiled. "Well, I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re not getting hurt or involved in anything dangerous anymore."


    "You shouldn¡¯t be worried about me," Max said, leaning forward slightly. "You should be worried about yourselves. You three were the ones who almost got hurt. We¡¯re fine. Don¡¯t stress."


    But Abby was stressed, quietly. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kira¡¯s words from yesterday still lingered in her mind. About Max being the "leader" of the school. She¡¯d brushed it off then, but now... with everything about this alliance, the connection to the gym, and how oddly calm Max was about it all, her gut told her there was more.


    Part of her even wondered, was Max the one who helped them?


    And if he was... why didn¡¯t he just say it?


    That thought stuck with her. She didn¡¯t like the idea of him stepping into something dangerous for their sake. She didn¡¯t want to owe him that.


    Without saying a word, Abby reached into her bag and slid something across the table toward him. She gently took Max¡¯s hand and placed the item in his palm.


    "I didn¡¯t get a chance to leave it at your desk today," she said, avoiding his gaze. "So I figured I¡¯d give it to you in person."


    Max unfolded the small note and saw exactly what he expected. Another joke.


    "Why can¡¯t your nose be 12 inches long?"


    "Because then it would be a foot!"


    Max stared at the note, the corners of his mouth pulling into the widest grin he¡¯d worn in days.


    "So... it was you," he said, looking up at Abby with pure amusement.


    "You just figured that out?" she giggled, eyes sparkling. "I thought I was being really obvious."


    Max shook his head, still smiling, a rare kind of warmth filling his chest. For a moment, everything felt simple. Light.


    But then,


    Bzzz.


    His phone vibrated in his pocket.


    He glanced at the screen.


    [Chrono: The Rejected Corps]


    The smile faded just slightly. His thumb hovered for half a second, then he answered, lifting the phone to his ear.


    Chrono¡¯s voice came through, low and direct.


    "I¡¯ve got your first mission as a member of the Rejected Corps," he said. "I¡¯ll pick you up after school."

 Chapter 134: The First Mission

    Chapter 134: The First MissionThe first mission, as a member of the Rejected Corps.


    Just thinking about those words made Max chuckle to himself.


    He hadn¡¯t exactly taken the traditional route into the gang world. He didn¡¯t rise through the ranks like most people. Instead, much like he had done with the White Tigers, he created something from the ground up.


    So now, being just a member of a gang instead of the one leading it... well, that was definitely new territory.


    At his desk, Max sat tapping his pen against the surface, clicking it in and out over and over again. The sound was soft, but steady enough to get on people¡¯s nerves. A few students turned around with irritated looks on their faces, ready to snap, until they saw who was making the noise.


    Their expressions froze. They turned back around without a word.


    Joe, sitting nearby, couldn¡¯t help but let out a quiet laugh.


    No one wants to get a pen shoved into their hand by Max, he thought. Fair enough... but what¡¯s up with him? He¡¯s been off ever since that phone call.


    Max¡¯s thoughts were spinning. What would his first mission even be? Would they ease him into it, something simple to break him in? Or would it be a test, a way to size him up?


    And what exactly was the Rejected Corps hoping to gain from this arrangement?


    Did they think that having him on their side meant controlling the entire school? That he was some kind of key to a bigger plan?


    I have to think about my own goals in all of this, Max reminded himself. I need to play it smart with Chrono, stay on his good side so I don¡¯t end up on his list. But more importantly, I need to figure out what really happened with Chad... and where all that money went.


    If Chad¡¯s fortune couldn¡¯t protect him, then mine won¡¯t either.


    The idea of hiring private security teams to take down a ruthless gang sounded good on paper, but reality didn¡¯t work like that. If the gang was too big... too connected...


    No amount of money could save you.


    If the Rejected Corps had connections at the syndicate level, then hiring another gang wouldn¡¯t help. No one would dare take the job.


    Not unless they didn¡¯t know who they were really dealing with.


    When school ended, Joe approached Max like he always did, casual and upbeat. The two of them headed out together.


    "I¡¯m in good shape again, finally ready for some training," Joe said with a grin. "Maybe we should spar together? You¡¯re a little better than me, so it¡¯d help me improve, right?"


    Max turned and gave him a look.


    "I mean, a lot better," Joe corrected himself quickly, hands up in surrender. "Alright, calm down. But seriously, I¡¯ve improved a lot. That guy just caught me off guard last time. I¡¯ll do better next time. I¡¯m sorry."


    They were walking through the hallway when Max suddenly stopped in his tracks.


    "Do me a favor, Green," Max said, not even turning to look at him. "Don¡¯t apologize for things that aren¡¯t your fault. It¡¯s a habit that¡¯ll only hold you back."


    "I¡¯m... sorry," Joe replied on instinct.


    Max turned around and gave him that look again.


    Joe clamped his mouth shut, resisting the urge to let the words slip out again.


    "About the gym," Max started, "I won¡¯t be, "


    But before he could finish, Jay appeared on the bottom floor, just past the rows of lockers lining the walls.


    "Hey, perfect timing!" Jay called out, walking up to them. "Let¡¯s all head to the gym together."


    He paused for a second, then added, "Also... I wanted to ask. That phone call earlier, was it about what happened the other day?"


    Jay¡¯s voice was careful. He was dancing around the topic, especially with Joe standing right there.


    "Somewhat," Max said. "I¡¯ve got it under control for now. Just remember what I told you before, if you don¡¯t hear from me, call that number."


    Joe¡¯s gaze bounced between them, his head shifting back and forth like he was watching a silent tennis match.


    "What are you guys talking about?" Joe asked, frowning. "Why are you leaving me out of the conversation?"


    Then something clicked. "Wait... the other day, did something happen? Was it about that guy who attacked us? Did you figure out what¡¯s going on?"


    The look on Max and Jay¡¯s faces said it all. The silence that followed told Joe even more.


    "You guys can¡¯t just tell me to sit back and do nothing while you go off handling things behind my back," Joe said, voice rising with frustration. "That psycho attacked me, remember? Don¡¯t you think I deserve to know what¡¯s going on?" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He took a breath, but he wasn¡¯t finished.


    "Even Stephen¡¯s telling me to let it go, but how can I? I was there."


    Max glanced at Jay. He could tell both of them wanted answers.


    So he gave them the short version.


    He didn¡¯t mention his family, but he told them about the group Dipter had been working for, how now, he was helping that group out. It was just enough to fill in the blanks.


    "So that Dud guy..." Joe said slowly, processing it. "You¡¯re working with that psycho?"


    There was a tightness in his voice. He didn¡¯t know how to feel. Part of him felt betrayed, but part of him also understood.


    "That ¡¯Dud guy¡¯ and the group he works for... they¡¯re a lot stronger than us," Max said. "We can¡¯t beat them the same way we beat Dipter. Even if you, or Stephen, were there, I don¡¯t think the outcome would¡¯ve changed. There¡¯s no need for anyone else to get involved unless they have to."


    Now it was Jay and Joe who felt guilty, like Max was carrying the weight of everything just to protect them.


    As they reached the school doors and stepped outside, Max stopped and turned to the two of them.


    "I won¡¯t be going to the gym today," he said. "They¡¯ve called me in. But you guys... don¡¯t worry. Just focus on building the Billion Bloodline. That¡¯s the best way you can help me right now."


    Maybe Max was just saying that to ease their minds, but it didn¡¯t stop either of them from feeling useless. If they couldn¡¯t help him in the situation he was facing now...


    Then what were they even being paid for?


    "I hope... whatever he¡¯s doing isn¡¯t too dangerous," Joe muttered, concern written all over his face. "We¡¯re talking about real gangs here. Max could end up in serious trouble."


    Jay didn¡¯t say anything, but the tension in his jaw said enough.


    As they continued walking, both of them noticed someone standing by the school gate, someone waving casually in their direction.


    "Wait..." Joe squinted, then pointed. "Is that... that guy?!"


    His voice pitched up with disbelief.


    "That guy from the Pit!"


    Sure enough, it was Wolf. Standing there with that wide, toothy grin, he waved enthusiastically at them like they were old friends meeting up for lunch, completely ignoring the fact that his reputation alone sent shivers down people¡¯s spines.

 Chapter 135: Swap Clothes

    Chapter 135: Swap ClothesThe memories of Wolf were still fresh in both Joe and Jay¡¯s minds.


    They remembered their trip to Notting Hill City, meeting the members of the Pit for the first time. How they¡¯d been backed into a corner, forced to fight just to survive. But what stood out the most... was Wolf.


    The way he fought against Dipter and his crew was unforgettable. Wild. Relentless. Unpredictable.


    There was no doubt, he was powerful. But thinking of him as an ally? That was something else entirely. The moment they saw him at the school gate, it put them both on edge.


    Had someone hired him to come after them?


    "Wait, why are we scared?" Joe said suddenly, trying to hype himself up. "This is our school, and he¡¯s on his own!"


    He took a step forward, but immediately realized something was off.


    His whole body was trembling from head to toe.


    What¡¯s wrong with me? he thought, teeth clenched. Is it because of that fight with Dud? I lost to Max and didn¡¯t feel like this. Even when Ko beat me, I wasn¡¯t shaking. So why now? S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Meanwhile, Jay didn¡¯t hesitate. He stepped forward confidently, standing beside Max at the front of the school.


    Wolf was already waiting, hands in his pockets, that same laid-back smile on his face.


    "So I¡¯m here, just like you asked," he said. "But it feels like someone¡¯s a little scared of me?"


    His eyes slid over to Joe.


    "Don¡¯t tease my people," Max said, his tone sharp.


    "We¡¯re here to help each other. They deserve your respect, just like they¡¯ll give it to you."


    "Right, right," Wolf replied casually, still smiling. "You¡¯re the boss, at least in this situation, for now. I¡¯m not here to tease."


    He paused, glancing around.


    "Came as soon as you made the call. But I gotta say... I¡¯m surprised you wanted to meet here of all places. You sure it¡¯s a good look, having everyone see you standing with me?"


    As more students filed out of the school, it didn¡¯t take long for them to notice Wolf.


    He was impossible to miss, wild hair, strange energy, and a fashion sense that looked like he¡¯d raided the baby section of a thrift store.


    But there was something else about him too. Something people were only just starting to pick up on.


    "Who¡¯s that guy?" one girl whispered.


    "He¡¯s hot," another replied, eyes lingering a little too long. "I¡¯ve never seen him before... and that smile?"


    "I¡¯d let him pin me against the wall and do whatever he wanted," another girl giggled, a little too loudly.


    The comments weren¡¯t subtle, and as the girls passed by, they burst into laughter, clearly not trying to hide their interest.


    Joe¡¯s mouth dropped open in disbelief.


    "Really?This is what girls are into now?" he blurted, staring at Wolf. For a second, he actually considered switching up his own look.


    "Is it the clothes?" Joe muttered, tugging on his uniform. "That¡¯s gotta be it, right?"


    "Yeah, totally," Jay said, playing along. "Change your outfit, and bam, brand new man."


    Max, arms crossed, turned his gaze from Joe to Wolf and back again.


    "Speaking of clothes..." he said, already forming a plan. "You two are about the same size. Joe, let Wolf borrow your uniform."


    It wasn¡¯t a request. It was more like an order.


    "Wait, why me?!" Joe protested, gripping his school blazer like it was made of gold. "Why do I have to give up myuniform?"


    "Didn¡¯t you just say you wanted to try his style?" Jay reminded him, grinning. "Here¡¯s your chance to swap."


    Max nodded. "Look, we¡¯re short on time. We¡¯ll make a circle around you. Just get changed here real quick. I¡¯ll pay you for the clothes."


    Joe sighed dramatically, but the next thing he knew, he was being ushered to the corner of the school wall, about twenty meters from where the rest of the students were exiting.


    Jay, Wolf, and Max moved into position, forming a makeshift wall to give him cover as he reluctantly started undressing.


    "Max, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re paying me and all," Joe grumbled from behind the wall of bodies, "but just so you know, I¡¯m doing this because you asked me, not because of the money."


    He paused for a moment, then muttered, "Money can¡¯t solve all your problems."


    Max smirked at the comment. Lately, all he¡¯d heard was that money did solve everything. So which was it?


    Once Joe had peeled off his school uniform, Wolf pulled off his jacket and top and handed them over in exchange. Then came the awkward moment of swapping pants.


    After a quick and clumsy change, both were finally dressed, Joe now in Wolf¡¯s bizarre outfit, and Wolf in the clean-cut school uniform.


    When Joe stepped out, the transformation was... shocking.


    Jay burst out laughing the second he saw him.


    "Hah! Man, those clothes really don¡¯t suit you at all!"


    And the reaction from the students? Even worse.


    As more girls exited the school building, their eyes immediately landed on Joe. A few pointed. Then the giggling started, not the same flirty, flustered kind Wolf had gotten. No, this was straight-up laughing at him. And Joe knew it.


    "I hate girls," Joe declared dramatically. "That¡¯s it. I like boys now."


    "Hey, hey!" Jay said, raising his hands. "Let¡¯s calm down a bit. First off, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how that works. And second, if you are serious about it, don¡¯t just throw it out there as a joke."


    He smirked. "But if you are serious, I¡¯m gonna need some proof."


    "You two idiots, knock it off," Max said, shaking his head. "I¡¯m leaving the Billion Bloodline, and the whole school situation, in your hands. And with how you¡¯re acting, you¡¯re really making me lose hope. Especially you, Jay."


    Both of them straightened up, expressions turning a little more serious. Max¡¯s words hit home.


    "Max..." Jay said quietly. "Don¡¯t die out there."


    Max sighed and gave a casual wave as he walked off.


    "Thanks for the death flag," he replied over his shoulder.


    "Alright," Wolf said, adjusting the collar of his borrowed school uniform. "Are you gonna tell me why you made me wear this, or are we just committing to the whole dress-up act?"


    He gave Max a sideways glance.


    "I like a bit of mystery, sure, but this feels a little more serious than just beating up some high schoolers."

 Chapter 136: You Didn’t Tell Me This!

    Chapter 136: You Didn¡¯t Tell Me This!"Okay, I see now," Wolf said, lacing his hands behind his head like this was just another walk in the park. He was kind of liking his school uniform look as well, and wondered how the others would react if they saw him in his current get up. "That¡¯s pretty wild... but I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve got your reasons."


    He glanced over at Max.


    "So the plan is: we¡¯re joining another street crew. The same ones running those little wannabes we roughed up earlier. And now they¡¯re asking you to join them, but they said to bring someone along. Since you couldn¡¯t trust anyone else, you picked me. Sound about right?"


    "Not quite," Max replied.


    "I trust my people. But they¡¯re not built for this kind of job, not yet. They don¡¯t know the gang world, not the way you do. They don¡¯t know what to do when things go sideways. You do. Plus out of the other options I had you had the most baby face look about you."


    Wolf lifted his hands and stroked his bare chin. Although his hair was wild and long, the rest of his skin was pretty pale and hairless.


    "And so do you, you also know how to handle yourself in front of gangs and groups right, just like you did with us?" Wolf said, narrowing his eyes, clearly fishing for more. "Right?"


    The question hung in the air.


    Wolf wasn¡¯t the type to prod openly, but something about Max bothered him, in a good way. He was a puzzle. A guy who moved like someone way deeper in the game, but had nothing on record. Nothing the White Tiger¡¯s network could dig up. If they just couldn¡¯t find any information maybe he would have let it go, but to tell them to stop investigating or it would bring trouble.


    Someone who knew about them, but stayed invisible?


    It didn¡¯t add up, and just made him more curious.


    "If you can handle yourself," Wolf said, "then why bring me at all? You clearly have backup. So why me?"


    Max gave a short, simple answer.


    "Because you can pass as a high schooler."


    That made Wolf grin. Fair enough.


    The two of them had reached a beat-up bus stop on the edge of the city, the designated pickup point. They stood there, waiting, the buzz of traffic in the distance, the air charged with something unspoken.


    Wolf figured this was the best chance he¡¯d get.


    Max needed him. That meant he could poke a little, push a few buttons, maybe crack the mystery open just a bit more.


    Wolf knew how this worked, if two people were going to be deep in enemy territory together, they needed trust. Or at least, something close to it.


    And if they didn¡¯t get there, fast, he could easily blow the whole operation without even trying.


    "So," Wolf started, leaning back on the bus bench like this was casual, "you got an end goal in all this? Or are you just planning to pay my day rate every time you want me around?"


    He raised an eyebrow. "Because sometimes my crew keeps me busy. Can¡¯t just drop everything for a side gig."


    "The end goal," Max said, not missing a beat, "is to not get caught."


    That made Wolf huff a short laugh.


    "I won¡¯t need you all the time," Max added. "But I don¡¯t know how dangerous this group really is yet. Once I figure it out, I¡¯ll move quick."


    Truth was, Wolf didn¡¯t really care why Max was doing it. As long as the money was flowing, it wasn¡¯t his problem. He was a gang boss pretending to be a grunt, for a fat paycheck. Easy money.


    "Alright," Wolf said, stretching his arms. "Since we¡¯re working so close now, let me ask you something."


    He shot Max a sidelong glance.


    "All this cash you¡¯re throwing around, where¡¯s it coming from? You some kind of trust fund kid? Or the son of a mob boss?"


    Max didn¡¯t answer.


    Wolf smirked. "You were looking into the White Tigers too, right? Don¡¯t tell me, lemme guess. They killed your dad, left you the empire, and now you¡¯re playing revenge with a golden credit card?"


    It was one of the theories Wolf had cooked up. It didn¡¯t explain how Max was a ghost on every background check, but it did explain the bodyguard, the cash, the strange pull he had.


    Still, Max didn¡¯t bite. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You¡¯ve been reading too many comics," Max replied coolly. "My money¡¯s my business. I spend it how I want, and that¡¯s all you need to know."


    He glanced sideways. "And if you did try to kill me, you wouldn¡¯t get a whiff of it. So don¡¯t get any ideas."


    Wolf let out a short, amused laugh. He hadn¡¯t expected Max to spill anything, but it was worth the jab. The mystery only made him more curious.


    Then, across the street, a sleek, jet-black S-Class Bezedez Benz rolled up to the curb.


    It was the kind of car that screamed, you don¡¯t belong here. Too polished for a neighborhood like this. And definitely not the ride of your average street thug.


    Wolf tilted his head. "That your ride?"


    When Max gave a slight nod, Wolf whistled low.


    "Man, when you said ¡¯street gang,¡¯ I didn¡¯t know you meant the luxury kind. Maybe I will figure out where that money¡¯s coming from."


    The passenger door popped open, and Dud leaned out, waving them over.


    "Let¡¯s go!" he shouted. "We ain¡¯t got all day!"


    Max and Wolf crossed the street toward the car. Max could already tell, this was no accident. Last time, the Rejected Corps sent a junker. Now they were rolling out the high-gloss welcome mat.


    Trying to impress me already? Max thought. Looks like someone¡¯s trying too hard to sell the perks. Childish move.


    Just as Max reached for the handle, Wolf grabbed his shoulder.


    "Whoa, hold up," he said. "You didn¡¯t tell me we were dealing with them."


    His eyes narrowed slightly.


    "If we¡¯re walking into the Rejected Corps, Max... you better double my pay."

 Chapter 137: Going Up In The World

    Chapter 137: Going Up In The WorldJudging by Wolf¡¯s comment, he clearly recognized the Rejected Corps, and not from hearsay or reputation. He knew them because of Dud. Just one look at the guy was all it took. It wasn¡¯t the car, it wasn¡¯t the way they were dressed, at least Max didn¡¯t think that was the case, but because of one look at the man in front of them.


    Max remembered the days when people would look at him and instantly remember who he was as well, but now was not the time for reminiscing.


    Max found himself wondering why that hadn¡¯t occurred to him sooner. Why hadn¡¯t he asked Wolf about them? They were both street gang veterans. There was always a chance their paths had crossed, or at least brushed close.


    Then again, Max reminded himself, they came from different cities. That was the main reason he hadn¡¯t brought it up. He figured, since he hadn¡¯t heard of the Rejected Corps before, it was safe to assume Wolf hadn¡¯t either.


    Wrong assumption.


    They were approaching a crosswalk, waiting as a string of cars passed in front of them, the delay giving them a brief moment alone before they caught up to the others.


    "Wait," Max said, cutting through the hum of engines. "You know them? As in, you¡¯ve seen them before?"


    Wolf didn¡¯t hesitate. "Not all of them. You don¡¯t need to stress about that. They won¡¯t recognize me."


    Max narrowed his eyes. "So how do you know who they are?"


    Wolf nodded toward Dud across the street. "I know that guy. Dud. He¡¯s the reason I know anything at all about the Rejected Corps."


    He paused for a second, like he was weighing how much to say. Then he added, "He doesn¡¯t know me. We¡¯ve never met. But he stirred up a lot of trouble in the gang scene back in the day. More than you¡¯d think. There were crews out for his head. He was a target for a while."


    Max raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"


    "Yeah. I wasn¡¯t involved, but I kept tabs. He caught my attention. So I learned his face. Found out eventually he ended up joining the Rejected Corps. I don¡¯t know how strong the whole group is now... but that guy? Dud¡¯s dangerous. That¡¯s a fact."


    Max thought back to the brief fight in the restaurant a few days ago. Dud had handled himself like a pro. Even then, Max could tell he wasn¡¯t just some tough guy. But if Wolf had taken notice of him in the past, and if Dud had that kind of reputation among gangs...


    Maybe Chrono and the rest of the Rejected Corps weren¡¯t the real problem. Maybe it was Dud he needed to watch out for.


    "Alright," Max said as the last car passed and the street cleared. He stepped forward, crossing with purpose. "I¡¯ll double your pay."


    Wolf gave him a sharp glance. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But you better be worth every penny," Max added. "No dead weight."


    Wolf grinned as he fell into step beside Max.


    "You got it, boss. I won¡¯t disappoint."


    When they reached the car, they slid into the backseat. The interior was a surprise, sleek, spacious, and decked out with seats that felt more like cushions from a luxury lounge. Max instantly clocked that the back had more room than the front, and every inch screamed high-end.


    But that wasn¡¯t the only thing that caught their attention.


    Someone was already in the driver¡¯s seat. And it wasn¡¯t Dud.


    The man had a beard that masked most of his face and a deadpan expression that didn¡¯t shift an inch when they entered. He wore a hat almost identical to Dud¡¯s, same style, same strange insignia stitched into the top. The match wasn¡¯t a coincidence.


    "My name is Na," the man said, his tone clipped and direct. "I¡¯ve been sent by the General to give you a taste of what life is like in the Rejected Corps." He glanced at them through the rearview mirror, sharp eyes locking on Max.


    "I see you brought someone with you," Na added. "Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re not a disappointment. Chrono has high expectations for you."


    "He won¡¯t be," Max replied without missing a beat. "If we need to prove ourselves, we will."


    Na gave a curt nod. "Good answer."


    The car pulled away from the curb, slipping smoothly into the flow of city traffic. The world outside became a blur of buildings and neon.


    Na spoke again, his voice calm, almost casual. "This car? Costs as much as an apartment. It¡¯s one of the perks we Sergeants get. A luxury, granted by the General himself."


    Max exchanged a quick look with Wolf, eyebrows raised.


    Na continued, "Unlike most gangs out there, our General believes in rewarding the people who matter."


    At that moment, Dud turned around in the passenger seat, meeting their eyes for the first time.


    "In case the titles confuse you," he said, his voice steady, "our group runs kind of like a military outfit. Ranks, pay, privileges, they all come from the top. From the General. Chrono."


    He paused, making sure they were following.


    "Everything you get, everything you keep, it depends on your rank."


    "Me and Na? We¡¯re the same rank, Sergeants," Dud explained, his voice low but steady. "Just one step below the General. The ranking system doesn¡¯t really make a lot of sense, to be honest. Everyone came from different units, different pasts, so we simplified things."


    Wolf was struggling to keep a straight face. It was obvious, the Rejected Corps were pulling out all the stops to impress them. The car. The conversation. Even the effort in having someone like Na personally show up. It wasn¡¯t just about Max anymore. They were trying to win both of them over.


    But they had no idea.


    They didn¡¯t realize Max had just agreed to pay enough to buy two of these luxury cars, just to have Wolf at his side. That knowledge, the sheer irony of it, was almost too much for Wolf to handle. It was eating him alive on the inside.


    Na spoke again, this time more pointedly. "The reason Chrono is putting his neck on the line for you, Max, and maybe your friend, if he surprises us, is because he sees potential in you."


    He glanced in the rearview mirror again, making sure Max was listening.


    "He saw potential in Dipter too. The plan was to make him a Lieutenant in the organization. But you beat him. You outmatched him. That changed everything."


    Max stayed quiet, his mind already racing ahead.


    "Now," Na continued, "Chrono wants you to rise to that level. To become a Lieutenant yourself."


    Max thought back to the last time he was wrapped up in a fight alongside Dud. The war with the Chalkline Boys. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory burned bright.


    The car slowed, then pulled into a lot. Max looked out the window.


    They¡¯d stopped in front of a massive restaurant, two stories tall with a huge, stylized dragon coiled around the building¡¯s face. Its body curled in an endless loop, lit up with pulsing neon. A hot pot place. High-end.


    Na turned in his seat slightly. "Look, here¡¯s the truth. What we need most right now is strength. Strength to grow the Rejected Corps. Not just in numbers, but in status. We¡¯re aiming for something bigger."


    Dud nodded, backing him up. "There aren¡¯t many people who match what we need. The General¡¯s picky. We¡¯re not just grabbing randoms off the street."


    Na picked it back up. "We don¡¯t want to be seen as a street gang anymore. That label? It holds us back. We¡¯re aiming higher now. We want to be known as the next tier, an organized group."


    Max¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "And the Chalkline Boys?" Na added. "They¡¯re not some small-time crew, like Dud tried to explain last time. They¡¯ve already made that jump. They¡¯re an organized group. And right now, we¡¯re in the middle of a full-scale war with them."


    "If we win this war," Na said, his voice steady, "we rise. All of us. And if you¡¯re with us when that happens, Max... you rise too."


    With that, Na stepped out of the car. Dud followed, silent but alert, already scanning the area.


    Moments later, a van pulled up, same kind as last time.


    "This time," Na said, turning back toward Max, "we want you to show us what you¡¯re made of. Prove you¡¯ve got what it takes to be more than just a fighter. Prove you have the talent to become a Lieutenant in the Rejected Corps."


    Max stepped out, boots hitting the pavement with a quiet thud. He didn¡¯t say anything. Just stood there, staring up at the restaurant, two stories of flashing signs and coiling dragons, glowing against the night like a challenge.


    ¡¯You idiots,¡¯ he thought as the car door shut behind him with a solid click.


    ¡¯You have no idea who you¡¯re talking to. You¡¯re pitching dreams of power and titles to the leader of the damn White Tigers.¡¯

 Chapter 138: What Class Are They?

    Chapter 138: What Class Are They?Now Max was starting to see the bigger picture, not just what was happening in front of him, but the entire system at play. The deeper structure. The hidden ambitions driving every move.


    When gangs worked together, especially street gangs tied to a larger Syndicate or organized group, it was never just about survival. Everyone had their own agenda. Everyone was chasing the top spot. Climbing, always climbing.


    He should¡¯ve realized it back when the Chalkline Boys attacked the restaurant. That wasn¡¯t some random hit job. That place didn¡¯t even seem like a major hub for the Rejected Corps. It was a distraction. A smaller outpost, not a base.


    And yet, the Chalkline Boys had hit it hard, then moved on to target several other spots. That kind of coordination didn¡¯t scream street gang. That was strategic. That was war.


    Now it made sense why the Rejected Corps were trying to step up their game. They weren¡¯t satisfied being seen as street-level anymore. They were chasing evolution. Status.


    That was why they¡¯d been after Dipter. The guy was a natural, talented, brutal, efficient. Fighters like him weren¡¯t just useful; they were rare. Most of the people lining up to join gangs were filler. Street-level muscle. But a real fighter? Someone who could take on five, ten people alone and walk away without a scratch?


    That was currency.


    Each one of those fighters could shift power. They were the kind of people gangs would kill to recruit, and kill to stop from becoming rivals. Because if you didn¡¯t bring someone like that into your fold, you were practically guaranteeing they¡¯d one day start their own crew.


    And no one wanted to face off against the beast they failed to tame.


    Behind him, the van¡¯s rear doors creaked open.


    Ten men stepped out in unison, all wearing the same berets and camo pants from before. Military vibes with street gang sharpness. It was the exact same unit Max had seen last time.


    They spotted him immediately, and gave a small, respectful gesture. Not a salute. But not casual either.


    One of the squad members paused as the group headed toward the restaurant. His eyes locked on Max, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.


    "You brought a friend this time?" Rain asked, voice laced with dry amusement. "Might wanna let him know, no one¡¯s gonna babysit him. And hey, who knows? Maybe another stray plate comes flying your way. Could get messy."


    Max didn¡¯t respond, just kept walking.


    Na and Dud led the way toward the restaurant doors, the rest falling in behind them.


    "Well, you¡¯re certainly popular," Wolf said, leaning in slightly as they walked. "Now I get why you wanted me here. Don¡¯t worry, boss, I¡¯ll make sure no plates hit your pretty face."


    The entire setup had the same rhythm as last time. Same van. Same crew. Same air of quiet anticipation.


    But there was one key difference: Dud.


    He seemed calmer. Focused. Less volatile than before. That edge-of-madness energy he¡¯d carried into the last mission? Gone, or at least controlled. Max figured that had a lot to do with Na. His presence alone shifted the vibe. Sergeant Na wasn¡¯t just calm, he was surgical.


    Just before stepping inside, Na slipped on a pair of gloves. The kind reinforced with steel across the knuckles. Serious gear. Then, without a word, he opened the restaurant door.


    Inside, the place was full. Families gathered around hot pots, steam rising off bubbling broth. Couples shared quiet meals, tucked into booths. A warm buzz filled the space, chatter, laughter, the clink of metal chopsticks.


    The restaurant had a distinct Eastern theme, rich reds and golds, dragon ornaments coiled along the walls, vases lined up in elegant rows. It looked almost ceremonial. Peaceful.


    Then Na and Dud entered, and the temperature in the room dropped.


    The squad followed, fanning out across both sides of the restaurant with practiced precision.


    Na didn¡¯t wait. He stepped forward, voice cutting through the noise.


    "We¡¯ve received reports of a planned attack at this venue. Everyone not on staff, leave. Now. You¡¯ll be reimbursed. Just go."


    For a second, no one moved. People froze, confused. A few looked toward the kitchen staff, uncertain whether this was some kind of prank or performance.


    Na raised his voice, louder, sharper.


    "Now!"


    That did it. Chairs scraped, conversations stopped. Guests began standing and filing toward the exits, nervously glancing at the uniformed group spread across the room.


    The squad¡¯s coordinated outfits and massive builds gave them the presence of a private military unit. No one questioned them after that.


    Unlike last time, there was no immediate chaos. No sudden violence. It was almost unsettling how clean the operation was.


    Max couldn¡¯t help but notice the difference, and wonder what it meant.


    As the guests scrambled out the front entrance, chaos turning to calm, Wolf stood near the back with a grin pulling at his lips.


    "It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been in a full-scale war like this," he said, eyes scanning the room with interest. "Kinda refreshing. Nice to see what the other cities are working with, don¡¯t you think?"


    Max didn¡¯t answer. He was already watching Na.


    The moment the last civilian exited, Na stepped forward, walking straight down the center of the restaurant like he owned the place. His presence was magnetic, calm, dangerous, unwavering.


    A staff member snapped.


    With a sudden cry, the man grabbed a pair of scissors from a counter and hurled them at Na. Sharp. Fast.


    Na shifted to the side, just enough. The scissors sliced past his shoulder, clattering harmlessly against the floor.


    Another man rushed him head-on.


    Na didn¡¯t hesitate. He launched a heavy fist into the attacker¡¯s face. The crack of bone was audible, the man¡¯s teeth spraying like loose gravel before he hit the ground, unconscious.


    Without breaking stride, Na kept moving, slamming another blow straight into the gut of the next man. The attacker crumpled instantly, like a rag doll, air knocked out of him.


    "Come on!" Dud¡¯s voice rang out from across the room. "Let¡¯s get started!"


    The squad surged forward. Dud led the charge.


    The first person to cross Dud¡¯s path didn¡¯t last long. Dud jumped, twisting midair, his legs snapping around the man¡¯s arm like a trap. He slammed them both to the ground in one fluid motion. Before the attacker could react, Dud¡¯s legs twisted with brutal precision, disarming him in seconds.


    Then Dud lifted both fists above his head and brought them crashing down on the man¡¯s throat. One hit. Done.


    All around them, the battle erupted.


    The Chalkline Boys had numbers, just like last time. More bodies, more weapons.


    But the Rejected Corps?


    They had skill.


    Max watched as the difference became immediately clear. Where the Chalkline fighters moved with aggression, the Rejected Corps moved with purpose. Precision. Power.


    Na, now on the move again, climbed the stairs to the second floor.


    At the top, another enemy lunged. Na drove his fist straight into the man¡¯s throat, then grabbed him by the collar and flung him off the balcony. The guy hit the ground floor hard, landing like dead weight.


    Wolf watched with a kind of awe. Na wasn¡¯t just strong, he was efficient. Each hit was clean. Brutal. No wasted movement. No flair. Just pure destruction.


    Dud was chaos in motion, but not without purpose.


    Unlike Wolf, whose fighting style was fluid and calculated, Dud¡¯s was something else entirely. Wild, raw, but laced with brutal efficiency. He didn¡¯t just throw punches. He used every part of his body, every surface around him, and whatever techniques he¡¯d learned from whatever unit he¡¯d once belonged to.


    No hesitation. No rhythm. Just pure instinct and destruction.


    He flowed from one opponent to the next like a storm, dismantling each target with improvised brutality, chairs, walls, elbows, knees. If it could hurt, he used it. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max stood off to the side, scanning the floor as chaos unfolded.


    Then Wolf stepped up beside him.


    "I should tell you something," he said, voice low but serious. "I hope you¡¯re not planning on fighting these guys. Either of them."


    Max raised an eyebrow.


    "Because both Na and Dud?" Wolf continued. "They¡¯re A+ class."


    He paused, letting that sink in.


    "That means... they¡¯re even stronger than me."

 Chapter 139: A+ Ranked

    Chapter 139: A+ RankedMax had heard Wolf¡¯s words clearly.


    A+ class ranked fighters.


    But the truth was, he didn¡¯t actually know what that meant, not by Wolf¡¯s standards, anyway. The ranking system wasn¡¯t something universal or widely known. It was something personal, something Wolf claimed as his own talent. His own secret way of measuring people.


    Some said it was just ego, some called it instinct, and others, especially those who didn¡¯t like him, thought Wolf made it all up as he went along. No one knew for sure where his so-called ranking system came from. There was no manual, no scale, no list. Just Wolf¡¯s gut.


    But despite that, the people closest to him, the ones who¡¯d actually seen him fight, who¡¯d watched him size up killers and come out alive, knew better. They knew that when Wolf gave someone a rank, he wasn¡¯t doing it lightly. He wasn¡¯t the type to exaggerate.


    In fact, if anything, Wolf was too humble about his rankings. Too strict.


    So the fact that he¡¯d labeled both Na and Dud, two Sergeants in the Rejected Corps, as A-class meant something serious. It meant he saw them as more dangerous, more effective, and potentially more deadly than even himself.


    That thought settled deep in Max¡¯s chest like a weight.


    "You think I didn¡¯t know that?" Max replied sharply, his voice dry and calm. "Why do you think I¡¯ve been playing along with their nonsense?"


    The answer surprised Wolf. It wasn¡¯t that he thought Max was naive. Max was a tactician, a leader, a man with money, influence, and power. He was street-smart and sharp. But this?


    Was Max saying he was complying with the Rejected Corps out of caution? Maybe even fear?


    The White Tigers were known for being untouchable. Ruthless. Even the syndicates hesitated before crossing them. People feared even researching the White Tigers, let alone fighting them.


    And yet, here was Max. The leader of that very group. And he was playing it safe with the Rejected Corps.


    The more Wolf learned, the more it shook him.


    Meanwhile, the battle around them had started escalating.


    The Chalkline Boys had poured in from the back, dozens of them, even more than last time. Max immediately noticed the numbers. The restaurant was larger than before, and it looked like the enemy had scaled accordingly.


    It was confirmation that the Chalkline Boys weren¡¯t just any street gang. They were an organized force. They had logistics. Coordination. Strategy.


    This was no ambush. This was war.


    And the Rejected Corps?


    They were adapting.


    Unlike the chaotic brawl from the last encounter, this time the Rejected Corps were tighter. Sharper. They fought with formation and structure, pairing off, backing each other, defending and attacking with rhythm.


    Max watched it all unfold with precision in his eyes.


    They were calling out code words, quick and efficient. Short bursts of language, almost like military signals, that told their partners what move was coming next. It was tactical. Professional.


    One member ducked under an incoming strike, snatched a steaming pot of broth, and hurled it across the room. The boiling liquid splashed into a group of attackers, scattering them in pain. Another fighter rolled low, grabbed a knife off the floor, and hurled it into an enemy¡¯s foot with pinpoint accuracy.


    They didn¡¯t stop there.


    Both soldiers charged forward, landed two crushing uppercuts in perfect sync, and moved on without missing a beat. It was relentless. Clean. Deadly.


    This is the second time I¡¯ve seen the Rejected Corps fight, Max thought, eyes locked on every movement. But it¡¯s not the same. This time, they¡¯re more serious. They¡¯re getting hit less. They¡¯re backing each other up like they¡¯ve trained for this. They¡¯re not just brawling, they¡¯re evolving. Becoming something else. A real unit. A force.


    And above it all were two outliers: Na and Dud.


    Na moved like a machine. Brutal. Efficient. Surgical.


    He launched himself at one of the attackers, wrapped his legs around the man¡¯s head, and slammed him down. In a single motion, he stole the knife from the stunned attacker¡¯s grip and hurled it across the room, burying it in the chest of another who was charging forward.


    Na rolled to his feet and exploded upward, driving his knee into another man¡¯s sternum with bone-cracking force. Before the man could even hit the ground, Na had launched his body forward, using the rebound to crash into the next group like a wrecking ball.


    It was clear: one skilled fighter like Na was worth more than ten average gang members. Maybe more.


    Dud, on the other hand, was a different kind of storm.


    While Na was controlled destruction, Dud was chaos with a purpose. He didn¡¯t tire. Didn¡¯t slow. His wild, feral energy never wavered. No matter how many he dropped, he was still moving like it was the first punch of the night.


    His stamina was terrifying. His unpredictability was worse.


    And now, Na had reached the second floor.


    Two massive men came out to meet him, tall, thick, built like battering rams. They were easily seven feet, a mix of muscle and mass that looked like they could knock down walls.


    But Na didn¡¯t even hesitate.


    He charged between them, dipping low and snapping a kick into the back of one of their knees. A chair came swinging at his head, Na ducked it effortlessly and launched his fist straight into the chin of the nearest brute.


    The sound was sickening.


    "Just because you¡¯re big doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re strong!" Na yelled, standing tall.


    He brought his arm around in a brutal arc, slamming his elbow into the face of the second man.


    "You¡¯ve relied on your size your whole life," he said. "You¡¯ve never had to actually fight. That¡¯s why you¡¯ll never match up to someone like me." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Back on the ground floor, Max and Wolf were still standing at the entrance, unmoving. Observing. Studying.


    But then they looked up.


    Na stood on the second-floor banister, holding one of the massive men up by his face. His legs dangled like a rag doll, the sheer force of Na¡¯s grip lifting him off the floor.


    Na locked eyes with Max and Wolf.


    "What are you two idiots doing?" he roared. "You just gonna stand there and stare? Or are you gonna show me you belong here? Because right now, neither of you deserve the Rejected Corps title!"


    He dropped the man unceremoniously and folded his arms.


    Wolf glanced at Max, a grin spreading across his face.


    "You heard him," he said. "Let¡¯s show them what we can do."

 Chapter 140: Max Upgraded

    Chapter 140: Max UpgradedUnlike last time, the Rejected Corps were holding their own, too well, in fact.


    So far, not a single member of the Chalkline Boys had broken through their ranks. No one had even touched them.


    But Max knew better than to stand still. Just because the enemy hadn¡¯t come for them yet didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t. The second he and Wolf got involved, they¡¯d become new targets. That was how this kind of battlefield worked, momentum shifted fast.


    Max moved. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He spotted a Chalkline member sneaking up behind one of the Rejected Corps fighters, arm pulled back for a strike. Max lunged, grabbing the attacker by the back of his collar and yanking him down hard. The movement was so quick and sudden it almost choked the man.


    Before he could react, Max kicked him, hard. The side of his foot collided with the man¡¯s head, slamming his teeth together with a sickening crack. The attacker slumped.


    More enemies were closing in, having spotted Max in the open.


    He didn¡¯t wait.


    He grabbed two ceramic plates from the table next to him and hurled them at the incoming men. The plates smashed into their faces with enough force to knock one of them off balance, sending both stumbling back, stunned just long enough for Max to charge in.


    He drove a knee into one attacker¡¯s stomach, then grabbed him by the shoulders and delivered three more brutal knees in rapid succession. Each one knocked the air out of the man¡¯s lungs, until he dropped like a sack of bricks.


    Another enemy came running at Max, swinging a meat cleaver.


    Max didn¡¯t panic.


    He twisted, shoving the man he¡¯d just finished fighting into the path of the attacker. The cleaver sunk deep into the injured man¡¯s shoulder, his own ally.


    The attacker froze in shock, and Max used that opening to elbow him across the jaw, then knee him square in the ribs.


    "Man," Max muttered, shaking his head, "with the amount of meat cleavers these guys use, maybe they should change their name. Chopline Boys or something."


    Up on the second floor, Na stood silently at the railing, watching everything unfold.


    Everyone else on that level had already been dealt with. The bodies, groaning, unconscious, or worse, lay scattered behind him. It gave him a moment to observe.


    His eyes locked onto Max.


    ¡¯He¡¯s definitely fought before,¡¯ Na thought. ¡¯And not just the one-on-one kind. This kid knows how to handle group combat, and how to dominate it. That¡¯s rare. Especially for someone so young.¡¯


    Na crossed his arms, studying the technique, the mindset.


    ¡¯He doesn¡¯t hesitate. Hits hard. Finishes clean. If someone goes down, he makes sure they stay down. And he¡¯s not afraid to use what¡¯s around him, plates, people, anything lethal. That¡¯s a good instinct. Street-smart.¡¯


    But there was more.


    ¡¯He¡¯s not scared of weapons, either. Doesn¡¯t rush them, but he doesn¡¯t freeze up. Keeps a cool head and moves with purpose. That calm, that discipline, that¡¯s not normal for a high schooler. No way. I see why Chrono thinks he¡¯s worth something.¡¯


    Then Na¡¯s gaze drifted sideways, to the other one.


    The wild card.


    Wolf.


    He fought with his arms loose by his sides, shoulders slightly slouched, almost like he didn¡¯t care.


    And then, bam, he spun, avoiding a series of strikes, and while mid-spin cracked a man across the face with the back of his hand. As another opponent tried to strike, Wolf jumped back, only to lunge forward the next second, slamming his arm into the man¡¯s chest with a bone-rattling shot.


    It was strange.


    There was no specific technique. No clear martial art. No style to copy or counter.


    His movements were unpredictable, awkward even, but deadly.


    ¡¯This one¡¯s sharp,¡¯ Na thought. ¡¯Like he¡¯s got eyes in the back of his head. It doesn¡¯t look like much, but he hasn¡¯t even been touched. Not once.¡¯


    Wolf grabbed an incoming attacker by the head and slammed his face into the steaming hot pot still boiling at one of the tables. The man screamed, the spicy broth searing into his eyes and mouth.


    ¡¯He doesn¡¯t care about getting rough either,¡¯ Na observed. ¡¯That unpredictability, that speed. That¡¯s the real weapon.¡¯


    Back on the floor, Max and Wolf were now drifting toward each other as they took down enemies. Eventually, they crossed paths again in the central aisle of the restaurant, a cleared walkway where the waiters had once carried dishes between tables.


    Now, it was the battlefield¡¯s centerline.


    "Hey," Max said, glancing sideways as they stood back to back. "I think you¡¯re fighting too well."


    "Sorry," Wolf replied, not sounding sorry at all. "Hard not to when they keep coming. And I don¡¯t exactly like getting hit."


    "Yeah, well, if you show me up too hard, they¡¯ll start getting more interested in you," Max warned. "That¡¯s not exactly the best move for your long-term safety."


    Just then, two Chalkline fighters rushed them, screaming as they charged.


    Wolf stepped back.


    "Alright, then. I¡¯ll take a breather. You handle this one."


    Max ran forward without hesitation. When he was just within striking distance, he pivoted sharply and launched into a spinning side kick. His heel smashed into the man¡¯s gut, lifting him clean off his feet. The force knocked him back so hard he vomited mid-air before crumpling to the ground.


    Wolf¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    Wait... wasn¡¯t that Dipter¡¯s move?


    Before he could think on it, Max was already onto the second attacker. He stiffened his shoulders, made himself compact, then slid past a punch and dug a punch into the man¡¯s gut.


    The attacker keeled over, and Max didn¡¯t stop. He followed up with a swift hook to the face, and when the man dropped to his knees, Max drove his fist straight down, knocking him out cold.


    That last combo... that looked like something Na did, Wolf realized. Not exactly the same, but close. Did he just copy both of their moves? On the spot?


    Wolf¡¯s mind was racing.


    Not only was Max stronger than the last time they¡¯d fought side by side, but his hits were cleaner. He still didn¡¯t have the raw power others had, but his precision made up for it. Each strike landed exactly where it needed to.


    He¡¯s stronger, Wolf thought. Not by much, but it¡¯s enough to notice. Still not near the top-tier muscle, but with the way he moves...


    He assessed it quickly, the way he always did.


    Strength and speed, up to a D-rank now. Add that to his S-rank battle instincts and his apparent ability to copy moves at an S-rank level...


    Wolf smirked.


    You¡¯ve improved, Max. You¡¯re no longer a D.


    You¡¯re a solid C-rank fighter now.

 Chapter 141: Clashing Morals

    Chapter 141: Clashing MoralsIt didn¡¯t take long for the Rejected Corps to claim victory.


    The restaurant floor was chaos incarnate, broken plates, shattered glass, overturned tables, and bodies. Chalkline Boys were scattered across the scene like discarded props, groaning or unconscious, blood smearing the tiles in streaks and pools. Some slumped over booths, others splayed on the ground, still twitching.


    Despite the intensity of the fight, the Rejected Corps had only sustained two serious casualties, fighters who, by the looks of it, wouldn¡¯t be joining the next battle anytime soon. Even so, compared to the damage they¡¯d inflicted?


    Minimal losses. Another brutal, overwhelming win for the Rejected Corps.


    As for Max and Wolf, they¡¯d come out of it without a scratch. No bruises, no blood, just a clean record and a healthy stack of knocked-out enemies. Both had taken out more than their fair share, and now stood near the entrance, breathing steady, barely winded.


    Max looked around at the wreckage.


    The place¡¯s done for, he thought. Won¡¯t be serving hot pot again anytime soon.


    He scanned the battlefield, taking in the full picture, not just the victory, but the message it sent. The Chalkline Boys had been hit hard. Really hard. This wasn¡¯t something they¡¯d walk away from quietly.


    They won¡¯t just let this go, Max thought grimly. They¡¯ll retaliate. And when they do, the Rejected Corps will need help again. Which means... they¡¯ll come calling. Probably for me.


    Down the middle of the room, Na walked through the aftermath with cold precision, checking on each fighter, assessing damage, collecting a mental report.


    "They were tougher this time," Dud muttered, brushing blood off his knuckles.


    Na nodded. "Right. That¡¯s why Chrono sent me."


    Dud tilted his head. "You think Chrono could¡¯ve just sent another squad with us? Might¡¯ve saved us a few injuries."


    Na¡¯s gaze drifted. He looked toward Max and Wolf.


    "I think you¡¯re right," he admitted. "But I think Chrono wanted to test them. With another squad in the mix, we wouldn¡¯t have gotten a clear read on what they¡¯re capable of. He wanted proof. What do you think of them?"


    Dud crouched beside one of the Chalkline fighters and casually started rifling through the man¡¯s pockets.


    "You¡¯re not gonna care what I think," Dud replied as he slipped a silver watch off the man¡¯s wrist and pocketed it. "Chrono¡¯s gonna ask you, not me. So I¡¯ll flip it, what do you think?"


    Na scowled. "Do you have to do that?"


    "What?" Dud asked, looking up with mock innocence.


    "If the others see you looting our enemies for scraps, they¡¯re gonna start thinking we¡¯re underpaid."


    Dud grinned and pointed straight at Na¡¯s face. "Money is money. And as the victor, I take what I want."


    Then, with a flash of that crooked smile, he added, "And don¡¯t forget, Sergeant. You don¡¯t give me orders."


    The tension between them didn¡¯t go unnoticed. Other Rejected Corps members paused mid-cleanup to glance over. The air thickened.


    Everyone knew, Dud and Na didn¡¯t get along.


    They never had, since the first day the two had met each other. Most members of the Rejected Corps had gathered close to the start of the formation of the group. Na had been there from the beginning where Dud had joined at a later time. So they had seen the countless close encounters the two had between each other.


    And that¡¯s why Chrono never paired them unless he had no choice. Their arguments were like storms waiting to explode. At some points. Some of the other members didn¡¯t help, as they had bets placed on who they thought would win if the two ever were to clash.


    And it just made everyone feel the tension every time they were in the same room.


    The reason was simple: their morals.


    Dud looted the battlefield. Every time. Enemy or ally, it didn¡¯t matter to him. If someone had something valuable and they couldn¡¯t keep it, it became his. There were rumors, whispers among the ranks, that he¡¯d once stolen a jeweled keepsake from a fallen squadmate. Something the soldier¡¯s daughter was meant to receive as a final memory.


    Dud claimed he¡¯d earned it. He said that if he hadn¡¯t survived to return with it, it would¡¯ve been lost forever in some foreign country. He¡¯d brought it back alive, so it was his. End of story.


    But it wasn¡¯t that simple. That final argument with his commanding officer had pushed things too far. Too loud. Too disrespectful. And Dud had been kicked out of his old unit.


    At least, that¡¯s how the story went. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Na, on the other hand, was the opposite.


    He followed protocol to the letter. Cold, focused, controlled. He didn¡¯t crack jokes, didn¡¯t smile, didn¡¯t break rank. He was Chrono¡¯s right hand, always by the General¡¯s side, rarely out in the field.


    No one knew why he had been dismissed from his previous unit. And that mystery? Made people fear him even more.


    Na turned back to the matter at hand.


    "They have potential," he said, finally. "They¡¯re raw, but they have what it takes. Could be Sergeants one day. Not now, but in time. Maybe a few years from now. They¡¯re valuable. The danger is... Chrono might be seeing them too highly, too soon. Because of the situation we¡¯re in."


    Dud chuckled. "Good answer. Now you can tell Chrono all that, and I can collect my bonus for doing a job well done."


    He moved on to the next downed fighter, kneeling beside him to check for anything worth taking.


    When the team finished their cleanup, the last thing they did was lock the restaurant doors behind them. The building was unsalvageable for now. Broken glass crunched beneath their boots as they headed back to their vehicles, the silence around them heavy with aftermath.


    Na turned toward Max and Wolf as they reached the cars.


    "Alright, you two," he said. "We¡¯re heading to the hangar. The boss wants to see you."


    His voice left no room for argument.


    Max glanced at Wolf, then nodded.


    Whatever came next, they were in it now.

 Chapter 142: Treatment Like A King

    Chapter 142: Treatment Like A KingWolf, Max, Na, and Dud had all returned to the Rejected Corps¡¯ hangar base.


    After pulling up in one of the blacked-out sedans, they were told to wait outside while preparations were made inside. That left Wolf and Max standing just outside the wide industrial entrance, surrounded by a sprawl of activity, cargo being loaded, men moving supplies, and vehicles lined up like a private army.


    It gave them a rare moment of quiet. Alone, side by side, just observing it all.


    "Wow," Wolf muttered, his voice carrying a hint of admiration as he took it in. "The number of members they¡¯ve got... it¡¯s way more than I expected. And the base? It¡¯s massive. Flashy, too. I¡¯m starting to wonder if that double fee you offered me is still enough."


    Max shot him a side-eye glare. "Don¡¯t even think about it. You didn¡¯t even break a sweat out there. And you know jobs like this don¡¯t come around every week."


    Wolf chuckled. "Relax. I¡¯m messing with you. Mostly. But seriously, this operation? It¡¯s impressive. Between this place and that monster Dud, I¡¯m not sure you can even call them a street gang anymore. Honestly, with this kind of infrastructure... they¡¯re already operating like an organized group."


    He paused, then added, "Maybe that¡¯s what this whole war is really about. Not just territory, but recognition."


    Max didn¡¯t say anything right away, but he was thinking the same thing. The Rejected Corps were technically under another group, one with more power. If they started reaching that same level... if they started getting too big, then internal conflict was inevitable.


    Groups that rose too quickly always threatened the balance.


    Still, maybe that wasn¡¯t his concern. Not yet.


    "What do you even do with your money anyway?" Max asked, changing the subject. "You got a big payout last time. You could¡¯ve upgraded your base, started growing your gang. But you haven¡¯t done anything."


    Wolf scratched the back of his head. His face turned slightly red, and his eyes drifted away.


    "Well... there is a reason."


    Max squinted. "What is it?"


    "Have you ever heard of Gacha games?" Wolf asked, a little hesitant.


    "Gacha games? What the hell is that?"


    "You don¡¯t know?" Wolf blinked, genuinely surprised. "You¡¯re younger than me, I figured you¡¯d be all over it. Anyway, Gacha games are these mobile games where you go through dungeons, fight enemies, and, more importantly, you collect characters or cosmetics. Like, ultra-rares, S-ranks, legendary skins, stuff like that. But the drop rate is garbage. Super low. So you have to keep buying boxes or spins to get what you want."


    Max raised an eyebrow.


    Wolf nodded solemnly. "It¡¯s... a hobby of mine. A very expensive one. I¡¯ve sunk a lot of cash into it over the years. If I have money saved up, sometimes I skip jobs entirely. But when the Gacha funds run low, " he tapped the side of his head, "I take a job. And your jobs pay better than anyone else¡¯s."


    Max looked like he was trying to decide if this was hilarious or sad. "So you¡¯re telling me you take on life-or-death combat missions... for digital loot?"


    "It¡¯s not just digital loot," Wolf defended. "It¡¯s the thrill of it. Like... that rush when you finally pull an S-rank after thirty failures. It¡¯s addictive. Look, I work hard. I earn my pay. If I want to burn it all chasing rare characters, that¡¯s mybusiness."


    Max shook his head but cracked a small smile. "Sounds like gambling to me." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don¡¯t bet what I don¡¯t have," Wolf said, folding his arms. "And if it weren¡¯t for Gacha... I wouldn¡¯t be standing here helping you right now."


    "So what, I should be thanking your addiction?"


    Wolf grinned. "You¡¯re welcome."


    As absurd as it was, Max found himself intrigued. It explained a lot. The erratic job schedule. The random bursts of motivation. Even Wolf¡¯s ranking system, calling Dud and Na "A+ class", that obsessive detail felt very Gacha-like.


    Eventually, Na returned. Dud trailed behind him for a moment, but made a sharp turn and walked off without so much as glancing at Max or Wolf.


    Na gestured with his hand. "Follow me. The General is ready for you now."


    Inside, the hangar looked almost identical to last time, crates stacked high, industrial lighting flickering from above, squads busy with logistics.


    At the far end, seated in his elevated chair like a king surveying his court, was Chrono.


    "I heard you two did well," Chrono said as they approached. "Na watched everything. It looks like you have an eye for choosing talented students. I knew you were something special the moment I heard you took down Dipter."


    He leaned forward, his voice rising with enthusiasm.


    "That¡¯s why I gave the order for Na to treat you like royalty. The luxury car. The access to move freely across the city. The kind of power that gets people to turn their heads when you walk by."


    He clenched a fist.


    "The kind of power where, if you want something, you take it. With your own hands. Your own fists."


    Chrono smiled wide.


    "This is just a taste of what you can earn, what you can build, if you¡¯re part of a group like ours."


    He leaned back, eyes narrowing.


    "So... how was it?"


    Max paused, like he was truly reflecting. But the answer was already locked in his mind.


    Maybe Chrono felt the same thing when spinning the Gacha, every victory, every new recruit, every step forward... it was addictive. Growth felt good. Too good.


    Max let his lips part slightly. "It¡¯s a life I never imagined I could have," he said. "As you said... there¡¯s finally a use for my fists."


    Chrono grinned, satisfied with the response.


    He reached under his desk and pulled out two thick bundles of cash, wrapped in rubber bands. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed them across the table. One slid toward Max, the other toward Wolf, though Wolf¡¯s bundle split, bills scattering slightly.


    "That right there is ten thousand for each of you. Your payment for today¡¯s work. Keep performing like this, and there¡¯s plenty more where that came from."


    He smirked. "It¡¯s real. No strings. You¡¯ve probably never seen that kind of cash in your life. But I assure you, it¡¯s just the beginning."


    Max stepped forward to take his money.


    But just as he reached for it, he heard something behind him.


    Laughter.


    Guttural, uncontrollable.


    "Hahaha!"


    Wolf was doubled over, one hand on the table, the other holding his stomach, shaking with laughter.


    Chrono¡¯s smile vanished.


    "What," he asked sharply, his eyes narrowing like blades, "exactly is so funny?"

 Chapter 143: Tears Of Sadness

    Wolf bursting into laughter wasn''t exactly on Max''s bingo card for how this meeting would go, especially not here, and not now. But deep down, Max knew exactly why he was doing it.


    Chrono had been smug since the moment they walked in.


    From the moment he started talking, he acted like he was the king of the city, like putting a pile of money in front of them should''ve been enough to make them fall to their knees in gratitude.


    Chrono believed that power meant everyone bowed to him. That ten thousand in cash was more than enough to buy their loyalty. But he had no idea that Wolf was already being paid more than that, just to tag along with Max.


    And that was what made it all so damn funny to Wolf.


    The entire situation was ridiculous. From the oversized ego to the oversized stacks of money, the whole interaction played out like a parody of a gangster flick, and Wolf just couldn''t help himself.


    I brought you here to support me, Max thought as he side-eyed Wolf, not to risk getting us both killed. Chrono is furious.


    He could feel it. The air shifted.


    Wolf was still laughing, even after Chrono''s sharp question. He didn''t stop, if anything, he doubled down. Then, casually, he reached forward and grabbed his stack of money.


    "Haha! Hahaha!" Wolf cackled louder, bending over, one hand on his stomach. "Sorry, I just... I couldn''t believe it! I''ve never had this much money in my life. I thought maybe I was dreaming!"


    The room held its breath.


    Then, unexpectedly, Chrono laughed too.


    "Haha! I like you," he said, easing back into his chair. "I like the way you think."


    Just like that, the tension diffused.


    "Anyway," Chrono added, waving his hand, "go ahead, both of you. Enjoy the rest of your day. Spend the money. There''s plenty more where that came from."


    As Max and Wolf walked off, Na caught up and informed them a taxi was waiting outside, arranged by the Corps. It was parked a few blocks down the road.


    Max glanced over his shoulder as they left. Chrono was still smiling, his eyes cold beneath the curve of his grin.


    Once outside, Na stayed behind, leaving only Chrono in the hangar office with him.


    "They''re interesting, those two," Chrono muttered.


    "Indeed," Na said. "They''re young, but talented. Raw, yes, but useful. In the fight today, they were already more valuable than some of our trained men. With formal training and continued field exposure, they could rise quickly. Maybe even to Sergeant level."


    Chrono''s grin widened, almost gleaming.


    "If we have four Sergeants at that level¡­ then our debut as an organized group won''t just be official. It''ll be unforgettable."


    He leaned back in his chair.


    "Treat them well. Keep them close. I don''t want them slipping away."


    The taxi they''d arranged dropped off Wolf and Max on a street about three blocks from Max''s actual address. He didn''t want Wolf, or the driver, knowing where he lived. In his world, paranoia wasn''t a flaw, it was strategy.


    Once the car pulled away and they were alone on the sidewalk, Max let out a long, slow sigh.


    "That was way too close."


    "No kidding," Wolf replied. "I barely held it together. But man, when Chrono put down that ten grand like he''d just saved your life... I couldn''t help it. I thought, ''This is where he gets all his cash?''"


    He chuckled again, wiping a tear from his eye. "Thankfully, I''ve got quick recovery skills."


    Max shook his head. As annoying as Wolf could be, this was why he brought him along. He could adapt. No matter how tense the moment, Wolf had a way of slipping through the cracks, of saying exactly what was needed to keep things from blowing up.


    Max smirked. "So what now?"


    "Well," Wolf said, stretching, "I guess I''ll head back to Notting Hill. Hopefully, they don''t call me up too often, or you''ll run out of money. And don''t worry about the taxi. I''ve got it."


    "You were really expecting me to pay for your taxi," Max muttered. "After doubling your fee?"


    Wolf winked, turned, and strolled off. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max stood there for a few seconds longer.


    He was doing well, playing the part of the street gang member, keeping both sides in check while slowly building up his own network. So far, he was still in control. But how long would that last?


    The next day was Friday.


    Max sat at his desk during morning classes, staring out the window. The last school day before the weekend.


    His mind wasn''t on school.


    No calls from the family, he noted. No pushback from using the funds. No mandatory events this weekend either.


    Still... he didn''t want to waste his time.


    There has to be a way to use this time. Something productive. Something that makes me stronger.


    He thought back to three things: Na''s strength. Dud''s endurance. Stephen''s warning.


    Even if I trained nonstop for a month, I still wouldn''t catch up. Not to Na. Not to Dud. Even Wolf said they were stronger than him. Hiring Wolf again wouldn''t change that.


    His fingers drummed against his desk.


    Is there a faster way to get stronger?


    He dug into his memory, his past with the White Tigers. He had heard of something. Risky, uncommon... but maybe worth a shot.


    When the break bell rang, Jay and Joe slipped into his classroom. They didn''t head to the canteen, because they knew the girls would follow them there. And they needed to talk privately.


    "So," Joe asked, "what happened with that whole situation? You''re here, so I guess everything worked out, yeah?"


    Max didn''t answer right away.


    Instead, he reached under his desk and pulled out two thick bundles of cash.


    He slid one across the table toward Joe.


    Then slid the other to Jay.


    "Joe," Max said. "You earned this fighting for the Billion Bloodline Gym. Consider it your payment."


    He turned to Jay. "And you, I never paid you for helping me out against Clapton High. This is yours."


    Both of them stared in disbelief.


    Then the counting began.


    Hundreds stacked. The realization hit fast.


    Each of them had just been handed five grand.


    Joe grinned wide, almost giddy. "Jay, can you believe this? Five thousand!"


    But Jay didn''t say anything right away.


    His shoulders began to shake.


    And then¡­ the tears came.


    "Thank you¡­" Jay whispered. "Thank you. Thank you so much¡­"


    Max watched in silence.


    I knew it, he thought. There''s something going on with Jay. There''s a reason someone that kind-hearted is doing this. There''s a reason he was working under Dipter.


    And whatever it was¡­


    Max intended to find out.

 Chapter 144: You Mean Something To Me

    Tears kept streaming down Jay''s face, falling freely from someone Max had always seen as a kind of gentle giant.


    Jay was strong. Firm. He never flinched in front of the other delinquents, never showed weakness, especially not in public. This was the first time Max had ever seen his armor crack.


    Even Joe, who never passed up the chance to tease someone, stayed quiet. Though maybe that was because Joe knew the truth too, if Jay ever wanted to, he could fold Joe in half without breaking a sweat.


    "I''m sorry," Jay said suddenly, standing up and grabbing the stack of money. His voice wavered, and then, without another word, he rushed out of the classroom.


    Max stared after him.


    "You know what that was about?" he asked.


    Joe shook his head slowly, still watching the door.


    "No. I''ve never seen him cry before. It kinda¡­ hurt, you know? Seeing someone like him break down like that."


    Max turned back, his mind spinning.


    "Let me ask you something else. Why would a guy like Jay be working for someone like Dipter? You said yourself, he might be even stronger than Dipter. So why follow him?"


    Joe furrowed his brow, fingers resting against his chin as he tried to piece it together.


    "Now that you say it... yeah, it was always weird," Joe admitted. "There were always rumors about Jay. Everyone talked about how strong he was. But he never went around starting fights or acting like he was the top dog."


    He paused, eyes drifting to the side.


    "I remember hearing that people would challenge Jay just to test themselves. It got to the point where every time someone wanted to make a name for themselves, they''d go after him. He beat them all, quietly. Efficiently. Never made a big deal out of it. But the word got around."


    "And when Dipter tried to take over?" Max asked.


    Joe nodded. "That''s when everyone expected them to fight. The whole school was waiting to see who''d win if they threw down. But... it never happened. Jay just sort of got absorbed into Dipter''s group. No questions. No fanfare."


    Max remembered that. Joe had told him before, but it hadn''t really clicked until now.


    "If you break it down," Max said, thinking aloud, "Dipter always had ambition. He wanted power, territory, control. He was building something."


    He looked down at his hands.


    "Jay¡­ he was just strong."


    Joe nodded. "And those tears¡­ man, they weren''t like mine. When you handed me that cash earlier, I wanted to cry too, but it was joy. Pure joy. But Jay''s tears?" He looked away. "Those weren''t joy. That was something else."


    Max raised his hand and smacked Joe lightly on the back of the head.


    "Ow! What the hell, man?" Joe rubbed the spot.


    "You really think he was sad because he got paid?" Max replied. "No. It''s what the money means to him. And no one, no one, bothered to ask what kind of situation he might be in."


    Joe fell silent.


    "Well... why don''t you ask him?" he said after a moment. "If you care that much. I don''t think I''ve ever seen Jay hang around with anyone but us. We might be all he''s got."


    He paused, eyes softening. "Same for me, really. We''re each other''s only friends."


    That realization struck Max harder than he expected.


    Everything, every bond in this school, had been born out of money. Dipter brought people together by paying them. Loyalty, respect, power, it all came with a price tag.


    But Jay¡­ Jay was different.


    Jay didn''t fight for the money. He acted because of something else, something Max hadn''t understood.


    "I think you''re right¡­" Max said quietly. "Crap. You guys... might really be my only friends."


    The word friends felt heavy on his tongue. It wasn''t something Max used lightly. After all, it was friends who had built the White Tigers alongside him. And it was a friend who had betrayed him and taken everything.


    Maybe that''s why he''d kept a distance this time.


    Why he''d used money. Control. Strategy. He thought it would protect him from getting hurt again. From being betrayed again.


    But it hadn''t worked. Not really.


    Stephen was loyal now, not because of the money, but because of what they''d built together. And Max realized something painful and simple.


    Maybe the problem wasn''t them.


    Maybe it was me.


    He''d never bothered to ask about the others. About what they needed. Why they fought. What their stories were.


    Jay had run off to the bathroom.


    There, hunched over the sink, he splashed cold water on his face. It mingled with the tears already running down from his red, bloodshot eyes.


    His large frame trembled as he gripped the edge of the sink with one hand, and clutched the wad of cash with the other. The money felt heavier than any punch he''d ever taken.


    "Finally," he whispered to himself, barely audible, "I can help. I can actually do something. But why does it feel like it was just handed to me? Do I deserve this? Is this even... right?"


    His voice broke with emotion.


    Eventually, Jay pulled himself together and made his way back.


    Even though he wasn''t in the same class as Max and Joe, it was still lunch break, and he didn''t want to just disappear without saying anything. That would be awkward. Rude, even.


    I didn''t even say thank you, he thought bitterly. I just ran out. I''m such an idiot.


    He stepped into the room and saw Max and Joe still sitting where he''d left them. He hesitated, but then made his way over and sat down quietly. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Before he could speak, Max cut in.


    "Jay¡­" Max said gently. "Can you tell me why the money means so much to you? Why you joined Dipter''s group if you don''t even like fighting?"


    Jay blinked, caught off guard.


    "I''m not trying to force you to do anything you don''t want to do," Max added. "I just¡­ I want to understand. I want to help if I can."


    He hesitated, then said it.


    "As a friend."

 Chapter 145: Jay’s Past

    "You want to know¡­ why I fight? Why I joined Dipter?" Jay echoed, his voice cracking around the edges.


    It wasn''t just surprise in his tone. It was something heavier. Something tangled deep in his chest. No one had ever asked him that before, not like this. Not as a person. Not as someone who mattered.


    And he hadn''t expected it from Max. Of all people.


    He thought Max just saw him as the muscle. A blunt tool for a dirty job. Big guy, big fists, end of story. But now Max was asking why, and what''s more, he''d said Jay didn''t have to fight at all if he didn''t want to. No pressure. No strings. Just a choice.


    That messed with his head more than anything.


    Those words echoed, twisted into something warm and unfamiliar. They brought him back to the first time Max had stood up for him, that moment with Snide. When Max had drawn a line and said Jay didn''t deserve to be treated like trash.


    That had stuck with him. Maybe more than he wanted to admit.


    "If it''s you asking," Jay said slowly, "the one who''s been backing me up¡­ then yeah. I''ll tell you."


    He took a deep breath. And opened the door to everything he usually kept locked away.


    *****


    Jay had always thought of himself as a protector. He didn''t earn that title. He claimed it. Carved it out of necessity.


    Because no one else was going to do it.


    He wasn''t alone in the world, not at first. He had a sister. Mira. Her name meant "light," and maybe that was fitting, because she was the one good thing that hadn''t been taken from him.


    But from the day she was born, everything else had gone wrong.


    Their mother died giving birth to her.


    Jay had been nine. Nine years old, standing in a hospital hallway he barely remembered now, clutching the edge of a plastic chair while his father stared blankly at the floor.


    It destroyed them.


    His dad turned into someone else. Someone cruel. Angry. Dangerous. He blamed Mira for the death, openly, bitterly. Even though she was just a baby. Just a tiny bundle with wide eyes and no idea how broken the world already was.


    Jay didn''t know what to do. So he stepped in.


    When his dad screamed, Jay took the shouting. When he swung, Jay stood between him and Mira. At nine years old, he was already bigger than most kids. Big enough to shield her. Big enough to take the hits. And he did.


    Every single one.


    Until one night, in a storm of fear and fury, Jay shouted something he didn''t mean, but maybe he did. That they''d be better off without their dad. That if he left, maybe things would finally stop hurting.


    He didn''t expect those words to matter.


    But they did.


    A year later, their dad was gone. No note. No goodbye. Just vanished. One day he was there. The next, he wasn''t.


    The rent was prepaid, but that was it. Jay and Mira were alone in a tiny apartment with peeling paint, empty cabinets, and no idea what came next.


    So Jay decided. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At ten years old, he became a father, a brother, and a survivor, all at once.


    He learned how to change diapers by watching old videos online. He boiled water for bottles. He held Mira against his chest when she cried and whispered lullabies he barely remembered from before everything fell apart.


    He taught himself to cook with canned beans and instant noodles. He visited food banks, telling them his father sent him. He used fake names and made up stories. Anything to keep the food coming.


    But it was never enough.


    There were days he didn''t eat. Nights he cried into a couch pillow while Mira slept next to him, wrapped in a secondhand blanket and wheezing softly in her sleep.


    He reached out to everyone he could think of, neighbors, teachers, people at church. But help never came. People looked away. Or they gave him tight smiles and muttered "that''s so sad" before turning back to their own lives.


    By the time he turned fourteen, Jay stopped asking.


    Growing up, Mira never got stronger. She got sicker.


    She had been born too early. Her lungs had never developed right. Her immune system was weak. Sometimes it felt like the world itself was too heavy for her to carry.


    She missed more school than she attended. Spent more time in bed than out of it. Some mornings, she couldn''t even lift her arms. Her cough sounded like it was tearing her apart.


    Jay would sit next to her, hold her tiny hand, and tell her things he wished were true. That one day they''d live in a house with big windows and sunlight that kissed her face. That one day she''d run without gasping. That one day she''d breathe like everyone else and never have to stop halfway up the stairs.


    He made her believe in those dreams, even when he didn''t.


    Behind the scenes, he was breaking.


    He took jobs he wasn''t old enough to have. Worked night shifts at greasy fast food joints. Lifted crates until his back throbbed. He skipped breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner, just so Mira wouldn''t have to.


    He sold everything. His phone. His sneakers. His games. Everything he''d ever saved, gone to the nearest pawn shop.


    But the bills kept coming. Rent. Medication. Doctor visits. Inhalers. X-rays. Lab tests. Always more. Always something.


    And then, one night, Mira collapsed in the bathroom. Blood in the sink. Tears in her eyes. Jay holding her in his arms and begging her not to die.


    That night rewrote everything.


    That night, he stopped pretending kindness was enough.


    That''s when Dipter found him. Or maybe he found Dipter. Jay couldn''t remember anymore. Just that someone offered him money. Real money. And he took it.


    He hated himself for it. Hated the things he had to do. Hated the bruises. The lies. The way Mira looked at him like he was still her hero, even when he didn''t believe it anymore.


    But every time he handed cash to a pharmacist or paid off a stack of bills, he told himself it was worth it.


    And then Max showed up.


    Max handed him five grand like it was nothing. No questions. No conditions.


    To Jay, it might as well have been five million.


    It meant a month of treatments Mira couldn''t afford. Blood tests the clinic had been pushing for. A real blanket, one that didn''t smell like damp and mildew. It meant hope, something he hadn''t dared to feel in a long time.


    That''s what broke him.


    That''s why the tears came.


    "And that''s my story, Max," Jay said finally. His voice shook with all the weight he''d just unloaded. "I''m not giving this back. I can''t. I need it. Bad."


    Max nodded. Calm. Steady.


    "I told you. It''s yours."


    Jay met his eyes. "But I need you to know something."


    He took a breath. It felt like stepping into new air. Fresh. Real.


    "I''m not just thankful. I''m¡­ changed. No one''s ever helped me without wanting something in return. Not once. You didn''t even ask what it was for. You just¡­ gave. That means more than you could ever understand."


    He straightened up, taller than before. His voice stopped shaking.


    "Whatever you''re doing, whatever you need, I''m with you. For life, Max. You''ve got me."


    Max looked at him for a beat, then nodded again. "Good. Because I don''t need followers, Jay. I need people I can count on."


    Jay smiled.


    For the first time in years, it wasn''t forced.


    "You''ve got one."


    There was a beat of quiet.


    Then Joe burst in, all grin and no filter. "Great! So I''ve decided something. Now that you''re officially part of the main group¡­ you get to be the Pink Ranger."


    Jay blinked. "Me¡­ the Pink Ranger?"


    Joe shrugged. "Yup. Because you''re a big ol'' softie."

 Chapter 146: Pulling Off The Impossible

    "Wait, why am I the Pink Ranger?" Jay asked suddenly, jabbing his thumb into his chest.


    Joe grinned like he''d been waiting for that question. "Come on, man. You know Max is obsessed with that old show, what was it called? Bower Bangers? No, wait, Bower Rangers? Ugh, that sounds wrong¡­"


    He scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Whatever. You get what I''m saying. There were only so many colors, and you, my friend, are Pink. Because deep down, you''re a big softie."


    Jay raised an eyebrow. "I''ve seen that show. And aren''t the Pink and Yellow Rangers, like¡­ always girls?"


    Joe shrugged. "And? They''re just colors, man." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But, "


    "And even if they are girls," Joe cut in, "you just told us about your little sister. I bet Pink was her favorite. So, being the Pink Ranger? That just means you''re the one she''d look up to. Her hero."


    Jay blinked.


    The logic was weirdly solid. Weird¡­ but kind of sweet.


    "Ease up," Max said. "You''re putting too much pressure on him."


    He turned to Jay, his voice softer now. "I told you, I understand why you fight. And I''ve got a way to fix your problem."


    He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something small and square, a card. Not like the others he usually passed out. This one was different. It wasn''t sleek or flashy. It was a rough beige color, with just one name embossed into the surface like a brand:


    Warma.


    Max slid it across the table like it weighed a hundred pounds.


    "Send all your sister''s hospital bills to this guy. He''ll handle them. Doesn''t matter what it is, medications, specialists, equipment, house repairs, send everything. You don''t have to live like this anymore, Jay."


    Jay stared at the card, unmoving.


    "I''m serious," Max said. "No strings. I''m not going to sit here and watch a friend suffer if I can do something about it. I''m paying for it. For as long as I can. And you don''t have to lift a finger. This isn''t a loan. It''s yours."


    He paused.


    "I told you I''d pay you back for saving me that day. This is how I do that. This, " he tapped the card ", this is your reward. Spend it however you want."


    Jay didn''t speak right away. He didn''t even blink. His throat tightened like a rope was being pulled around it, but he swallowed hard and forced the lump back down.


    "No," he said finally. "I mean, yes, I''ll take it. I''ll take the help. Pink, Yellow, whatever Ranger you want me to be, I''ll be there."


    He looked Max in the eye.


    "I meant what I said. I''ll help you with whatever you need. And you don''t need to feel guilty for even a second. Because I never would''ve had this chance without you. You didn''t just give me a card. You gave me hope."


    He paused, and his voice cracked again.


    "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."


    Jay kept saying it over and over again until the school bell finally rang, pulling them back to reality. He barely noticed he was being ushered back to class. He didn''t care. None of them had eaten lunch that day, but it didn''t matter.


    The day had already fed something deeper than food.


    Later that afternoon, Max sat at his desk, pretending to listen to the final class of the day.


    His mind was somewhere else entirely.


    It felt good, back then¡­ fighting with my friends by my side, he thought. Back when we were just a bunch of kids in the White Tigers trying to make a name for ourselves.


    But somewhere along the way, we stopped fighting for each other, and started fighting for power.


    We wanted more. More territory. More influence. More control.


    And in chasing all of that¡­ we lost what made us strong in the first place.


    He stared out the window, half-seeing the clouds drift by.


    Now that I look back¡­ the arguments, the splits, the betrayals, it was always about growth. Expansion. Control.


    Not about us anymore.


    His fingers curled into a loose fist.


    We hurt a lot of people in the process. The White Tigers¡­ we were strong, but we were never kind.


    But this? Helping Jay? It''s different. It feels good. Right.


    For me, it''s nothing. For him, it''s his entire world.


    He leaned back, staring at the ceiling now.


    And somehow, without trying¡­ I''m building something better this time. A real team. A family. Loyal people who''d follow me not out of fear, but choice.


    After school, Max and Joe met up at the gates. Jay joined them soon after, and for the first time in a long time, the three of them were heading to the gym together, just like old times.


    As they walked toward the Bloodline Gym, Max noticed something odd.


    Several students were wearing branded hoodies and jackets, emblazoned with the Bloodline logo.


    Jay noticed too. "Wait¡­ I''ve never seen them at the gym before. Do they even go?"


    "You''re right. They don''t," Max said, smirking. "Turns out the clothes have become a fashion thing. Seaton''s been pushing the brand outside school, and it''s catching on."


    Joe raised a brow. "Isn''t that exactly what you didn''t want?"


    Jay nodded. "Yeah¡­ won''t people get confused about who''s actually in the gym and who''s just wearing the gear for style?"


    Max shrugged. "Nope. This is perfect. If we start a trend, we build hype. And if we build hype¡­ we build profit."


    He grinned to himself, the wheels already spinning.


    "I was trying to build something solid from the ground up, and now it might actually pay off."


    Jay just shook his head.


    He thought Max was crazy sometimes. The guy had more money than he could ever spend in five lifetimes. So why was he still trying to make more?


    But somehow¡­ it was working.


    Max''s phone buzzed.


    He pulled it out, glanced at the screen.


    [Big job for you tomorrow. Be ready.]


    , The Rejected Corps


    Max swore under his breath.


    Crap. Not now.


    Tomorrow was the weekend.


    And weekends meant Aron.


    Wherever Max went, Aron would be with him. No excuses. No skipping.


    And now the Rejected Corps was handing him a mission?


    How the hell am I supposed to pull this off, with him following me around?

 Chapter 147: Bloodline Merch

    Across Notting Hill, in group chats, online forums, and scattered lunchtime conversations, a single name kept popping up among teens:


    Bloodline Merch.


    It wasn''t just a brand anymore. It was a thing.


    "Hey, have you noticed everyone''s wearing that Bloodline stuff lately?" one kid asked, spinning his phone in his palm as he leaned back on a park bench.


    "Yeah, I''ve seen it around. Kind of a lot, actually. Must be some new drop from a streetwear brand or something."


    "I heard they got a bunch of local influencers pushing it. Like real ones. From around here."


    "That explains the hype. But you know how these things go. Probably another industry plant. Hype now, trash later."


    "I thought the same," another kid chimed in, "but their pricing isn''t insane. It''s not trying to be designer or exclusive. Just¡­ regular prices. Like Nike-tier."


    "For real? Lemme check, "


    Tap tap tap.


    "Yo, you''re right. Prices aren''t bad¡­ but it''s all sold out. Damn."


    "Guess if you get real influencers and don''t overcharge, people actually buy. Wild concept."


    "It''s more than that, though. This one feels different. Like, even with influencers, most people don''t care. But with Bloodline? People are actually going out of their way to find it."


    "And because it''s local, it feels more genuine."


    "You think this could be the first big brand to actually come out of Notting Hill?"


    "I heard something else too. A rumor. The merch? It''s coming from those new gyms that opened up. You know, the sketchy ones down by the tracks."


    "No way."


    "Yeah, and apparently if you go there in person, they''ll sell you some, if they''ve got any left."


    "¡­I dunno if I''m ready to risk getting stabbed just for a hoodie. I''ll wait until they restock online."


    That was the buzz among the general teen crowd, kids across the city noticing the trend, chasing the hype. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But in the neighborhoods closest to the gyms, in the schools where the Bloodline name had taken root, conversations were different. The tone wasn''t about fashion.


    It was about survival.


    "You get your hands on any Bloodline merch yet?" a girl asked her friend as they walked down the school hallway.


    "Nope. Sold out everywhere. I even checked the resale apps."


    "We might have to go straight to the source. The gyms themselves."


    "You sure that''ll work? What if the rumors aren''t real?"


    "Wait, what rumors?" someone else butted in. "I was too busy beating up my little brother, dude was trying to suck my toes again."


    A beat of silence.


    "You seriously need to get him checked out."


    "Anyway, what rumors?" another friend snapped, ignoring the tangent.


    "That the delinquents, all of them, have been steering clear of anyone wearing Bloodline gear."


    "Like, completely ignoring them. Not robbing them. Not picking fights. Just letting them walk."


    "Dead serious. It''s like anti-bullying clothing."


    "¡­That''s kind of genius."


    "Yeah, but why though? Why are the troublemakers backing off just from a hoodie?"


    "I heard, it''s connected to a gang. Like, a real one. Word is, Bloodline''s being run by them. Not that the gang cares if random kids wear it, but the delinquents don''t want to take any chances. They see the logo, and they freeze."


    "Yo. That''s wild. So we won''t get in trouble for wearing it?"


    "We can''t. The gyms are selling it publicly. It''s not like we''re claiming turf or anything."


    "I dunno, it''s like this whole movement popped out of nowhere. One minute, no one''s heard of them. Next thing you know, it''s everywhere. Feels like they''re doing legit business through the gyms."


    "Well, whatever it is¡­ I''m in. I''ll pool whatever money I''ve got, ask my parents for early birthday cash, whatever it takes. We have to get that merch."


    What started as streetwear hype had mutated into something else.


    The Bloodline logo meant different things to different people.


    To some, it was just a fashion statement.


    To others, it was protection. A badge.


    But no matter the reason, the result was the same:


    A wave was building.


    And it wasn''t just the merch flying off shelves. The gyms were booming too.


    The regulars, the fighters, lifters, and loyal members, had no complaints. With the renovations and new equipment, their old haunts had only improved. They didn''t care who ran the place now. As long as the gear worked and the space stayed clean, they were in.


    Then there were the new faces.


    Some came looking for merch, drawn in by the rumor mill.


    That''s where the sales tactics kicked in.


    Discounts on clothing for gym members. Waiting lists for restocks. Priority access for those with active memberships. It was smart. Aggressive.


    Others came just to see what was happening. Curiosity turned to interest. Interest turned to sign-ups.


    A few stuck around.


    They started learning. Training. Watching the older kids spar.


    Fighting techniques. Strength routines. A sense of structure. For some, it was their first time feeling part of anything real.


    On a warm Friday evening, with the sun still low in the sky, a sleek black sedan rolled through the quieter edges of the city.


    Inside, Na sat in the driver''s seat. Another member of the Rejected Corps lounged beside him, scrolling through his phone lazily.


    "You noticed something lately?" the passenger asked, glancing out the window. "More and more kids wearing that Bloodline gear."


    Na didn''t respond right away. He hadn''t been paying much attention, but now that it was pointed out, he saw it too.


    Delinquents smoking on street corners, wearing it.


    Students walking home in packs, wearing it.


    A symbol. A shadow. Everywhere.


    "Hadn''t heard of them before," the passenger continued. "Think it''s a gang? Should we report it to Chrono?"


    Na raised an eyebrow like the guy had just suggested calling the cops on a lemonade stand.


    "Report what?" he scoffed. "That a bunch of high schoolers are playing dress-up with matching hoodies?"


    The passenger hesitated.


    "I mean, if it''s spreading that fast, "


    "Relax," Na said, eyes narrowing. "It''s nothing. Just kids playing an adult''s game. Let ''em wear their uniforms and act tough. It doesn''t mean anything."

 Chapter 148: Triangle Of Peace

    Max woke up with a dull ache pressing against his chest. He didn''t move right away. He just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind already spiraling with everything that was waiting for him.


    The blanket was twisted around his legs, too warm, too heavy, like it was trying to keep him from facing the day. And honestly? He didn''t want to face it.


    Because today wasn''t just any day.


    It was the weekend.


    And every weekend came with problems, specifically, one big, unavoidable problem.


    Max sighed, peeled the quilt off, and sat up slowly. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and tapped the screen. The date glowed back at him in cold white numbers.


    "Yeah. It''s real," he muttered. "Weekend again."


    That meant it was time to deal with him.


    Max unlocked his phone and flicked through his messages, his stomach tightening with every scroll. He knew the text would be there. It always was.


    And there it was, bold and blunt as ever:


    [The Rejected Corps will be picking you up at midday. Same spot as last time. Be ready.]


    Max stared at the message for a long moment. He didn''t reply. What was there to say?


    He tossed the phone on his bed and rubbed his face with both hands. His brain was already racing.


    How do I get Aron off my back? Do I lie? Tell him something vague? Tell him nothing?


    Max had run through every possible scenario. None of them ended well. If he told Aron the truth, Aron would do what he always did, barge into the situation without thinking, fists up and mouth running.


    Especially if someone like Rain from the Rejected Corps so much as looked at Max sideways. Aron wouldn''t ask questions. He''d swing.


    And that was the problem. Aron wasn''t just stubborn, he was dangerous because he cared. He wasn''t reliable in the way Max needed him to be right now.


    Even if I tried to explain why he couldn''t come¡­ even if I made him promise¡­ he''d worry. He''d act on his own. He''d follow me anyway. And eventually, he''d get caught up in something way too big for him.


    Because this wasn''t just about Max anymore.


    This whole operation, this whole mess, was still connected to the Stern family, and that made everything ten times more complicated.


    It wasn''t just a street gang problem. It was political. Corporate. Underground.


    So yeah, telling Aron the truth? That was off the table.


    I need to come up with a reason, something that sounds real, something that actually helps him too. If he thinks it benefits both of us, he won''t argue. Or at least¡­ not as much.


    Max leaned back on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He could already hear the imaginary conversation.


    Aron: "Why can''t I come?" sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max: "It''s complicated."


    Aron: "You always say that."


    Max: "Because it is."


    There was a reason everyone joked about Aron being the "Stalker of Max''s phone." If Max didn''t reply within five minutes, Aron was already on the way to his house. They only had two full days together every week, and Aron treated those days like sacred rituals.


    But Max hadn''t spent the whole night pacing for nothing.


    He had a plan.


    "If I tell him I need time to get stronger," Max whispered, "if I frame it like it''s about protecting both of us¡­ maybe he''ll let me go."


    It wasn''t even a lie.


    Max had been thinking about strength more and more lately. Ever since his conversation with Stephen, it had taken root in his mind.


    He''d been training. Pushing himself. He figured, maybe in six months, he could get his body back to where it used to be. Maybe even better.


    But the truth was, that wasn''t enough.


    Six months of training wouldn''t make him strong enough to face the White Tiger again. Not now. Not after everything that had changed.


    It wouldn''t make him strong enough to survive in a world with monsters like Dud and Na walking around. These weren''t just fighters. They were war machines with fists.


    Max needed to go beyond what he used to be.


    He needed to evolve.


    Luckily, Max had something no one else did: information.


    The kind of information most people never saw. Most people lived in the safe zones, the surface world. But beneath it, there were layers.


    The Underworld called it the Triangle of Peace.


    Three forces holding the world in check, constantly shifting, but never fully tipping.


    The first point of the triangle? Syndicates. Global gangs with enough muscle and connections to sway political decisions and rewrite rules in the shadows.


    The second? Corporate empires. Business giants like the Stern family, whose influence seeped into every corner of modern life, from the phones people used to the laws that passed without question. They pulled strings behind curtains no one even noticed.


    Sometimes the two sides crossed paths. Deals were made. Wars were started. But there was still a clear line.


    Then came the third corner of the triangle, the one no one liked to talk about.


    Super Humans.


    They didn''t wear costumes. They didn''t shoot lasers or fly through the sky. But they were just as terrifying.


    These were assassins who could wipe out entire organizations without leaving a trace.


    Soldiers trained in secret units, masters of combat and stealth.


    Martial artists who had vanished from public life, only to reemerge with power that defied logic.


    They weren''t bound to any one side. They could be hired, sure, but only if they allowed it. Sometimes they acted alone. Sometimes they stepped in just to maintain the balance.


    Each corner of the triangle respected them. Feared them.


    And then, beyond the triangle, there was a rumor.


    A group. An organization with no name, no face. No one knew who ran it. No one even knew how to find it.


    But everyone knew about the invitations.


    If you got one, you were being watched. Considered. You were powerful enough to matter.


    In his past life, as the head of the White Tiger, Max had only just received that invitation.


    And then he''d died.


    So now? In this second chance? He knew what had to happen.


    If I want to take down the White Tiger... If I want to protect Aron... if I want to rewrite how all of this ends,


    "Then I need to become a Super Human myself," Max whispered.

 Chapter 149: A Super Human

    Right on cue, there was a knock at the door.


    Not a second too early. Not a minute too late. Just like always.


    That was Aron.


    Max had been expecting him, but somehow the knock still set his nerves on edge. He took one last glance at himself in the mirror, just casual clothes for now. Nothing that might give away the real plan hiding underneath. He was planning to change later, after Aron was gone.


    He had to play this right.


    Opening the door, Max forced a smile.


    "It''s good to see you with no wounds for once," Aron said immediately. He placed a hand over his chest and let out a dramatic sigh. "Every time I knock, I brace myself for the worst. Thought I''d find you beaten black and blue again. Honestly, this is a relief."


    Max let out a soft chuckle. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."


    Once inside, Aron made himself at home like he always did, flopping down on Max''s bed and leaning back like it belonged to him.


    "So," Aron said, getting right to business, "any big plans this weekend? Something you want to do? Any clues about the Stern family? Because as far as I know, they''ve gone quiet. No signs. No sudden movements."


    That, at least, was some good news. Max nodded, filing that away.


    "I do have something," Max said, dragging his desk chair across the floor and turning it around so he could lean over the back. He rested his arms across the top, locking eyes with Aron. "I need you to do something. And I think you''re the only one who can pull it off."


    Aron straightened, eyes narrowing slightly. "Okay... I''m getting the sense this is something you want me to do solo."


    "Don''t jump to conclusions yet," Max said, raising a finger. "Let me explain first."


    Aron leaned forward slightly, still wary.


    "Have you ever heard of the term Super Human?" Max asked.


    "I have," Aron replied, "but I doubt it''s the same version you''re about to give me."


    Max nodded. "Probably not."


    And then he launched into the explanation.


    He told Aron everything, about individuals who didn''t just operate outside the system, but above it. About assassins who could dismantle syndicates solo. Soldiers turned into one-man armies. Martial artists hidden away from the world, legends that could wipe out entire platoons.


    To someone else, it might''ve sounded like Max was quoting straight from a comic book. But he tried his best to ground it, pulling from stories, rumors, even whispers in the darker corners of the internet. He knew Aron needed something solid to believe in.


    Aron listened quietly, absorbing every word.


    "Now that you mention it," Aron said slowly, "I think¡­ I might have heard of something like that before. Can''t say I remember details, though."


    He paused. "But what does any of this have to do with you?"


    Max leaned in.


    "Because you know people are still coming after me. You know I can''t count on you always being around. And honestly? I don''t want to keep relying on you like that."


    Aron frowned but said nothing.


    "So," Max continued, "what better way to prepare than to find one of these Super Humans and have them train me?"


    There was a beat of silence.


    Then Aron stood up, brushed off his pants, and turned toward the door.


    "Well then," he said with a grin, "let''s go find one."


    "Wait!" Max said, jumping to his feet.


    Aron stopped and raised an eyebrow, half-smiling like Max had just suggested they go wrestle a lion.


    "You remember what I said," Max continued. "This is something you need to do alone."


    "That''s¡­ probably the dumbest thing I''ve ever heard you say," Aron replied, crossing his arms.


    "Look, these people are dangerous. One wrong step, one wrong word, and I''m toast. You, though? You can handle it. You''re stronger. Faster. Smarter in a fight. If I''m there, it''s just a bigger risk. For both of us."


    Max could see Aron trying to make sense of it, trying to find the flaw in the logic.


    "We don''t know when I''ll be attacked next," Max pressed. "Time''s ticking."


    Aron rubbed the back of his neck. "Then why not let me train you? Wouldn''t that be easier?"


    "I don''t think that would work," Max admitted. "Your skills, they weren''t taught, not really. You grew into them. They''re instinctual for you. That''s why you''ve never trained anyone before. And that''s okay. But I need something different. Something bigger."


    Max walked closer, his tone softening.


    "You''re my Silver Ranger, Aron. You''ve always been the one I could count on. And right now, I need your skills more than ever."


    He reached into his desk and pulled out a slip of paper.


    "I''ve already done the research. I''ve tracked one down, or at least a lead. There''s someone nearby. A Super Human. They call him Hercules."


    Aron raised both brows at that.


    Max handed him the paper. "Use whatever money you need. Use every resource you''ve got. This is your mission. Find him. Convince him to see me. Convince him that I''m worth training." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aron stared at the note in his hands. For once, he didn''t speak right away.


    "And most importantly¡­" Max added, his voice low, "don''t get hurt. If it gets too dangerous, leave. Promise me."


    Aron looked up, and something shifted in his expression.


    This was the moment. Would he accept it? Would he go? Or would he insist on staying close to Max, protecting him the way he always had?


    It felt like the entire room was holding its breath.


    Max decided to give him one last push.


    "I''ll stay in my apartment all weekend," he said. "No trouble. Nowhere to go. If everything works out, maybe tomorrow we''ll go see Hercules together."


    Aron''s lips twitched into a smirk, then a smile.


    "Alright," he said. "It makes sense. I''ll do everything I can to find this Hercules guy. I''ll get him to meet you. I promise."


    He walked over and clapped a hand on Max''s shoulder.


    "You can count on me. Your Silver Ranger¡­ and your brother."


    The word hit harder than Max expected.


    Brother.


    For a second, Max almost told him the truth. Almost.


    But he held it in.


    Because no matter how guilty he felt, this was something he had to do. And truthfully? He really did need Aron''s help.


    "Thanks, Aron," he said quietly.


    Aron grinned and turned toward the door.


    Max watched him go, the slip of paper still in his hand.


    "One more thing," Max called out. "The Super Human I want you to find, they call him Hercules."

 Chapter 150: Who Is He?

    After finally explaining everything he needed to, Max was relieved, no, grateful, that Aron had left.


    Without wasting another second, he changed out of his flashy Billion Bloodline merch and into some normal gym wear. Nothing fancy. Just plain, forgettable clothes. Then he bolted out the door and headed straight for the meeting point.


    I''m lucky Aron''s the kind of guy who can be¡­ persuaded, Max thought as he jogged down the street. And yeah, I know he''ll throw himself into this mission like it''s a full-blown blockbuster, but that''s exactly what worries me. I just hope he makes it out okay.


    Far on the outskirts of the city, past the last row of crumbling fences and half-dead streetlamps, was a wide, cracked field. Dusty. Forgotten. The kind of place you''d avoid unless you had business that preferred silence.


    Several vehicles had pulled up on the brittle asphalt, their tires crunching against loose gravel. Aron stepped out of his car, his boots hitting the ground with purpose.


    Around him, men emerged from the other cars, tall, broad, and geared up. Body armor. Batons. Black sunglasses that made them look more like a cinematic hit squad than anything official. They weren''t government. Not even close. This was a hand-picked mercenary team. Private. Expensive. Dangerous.


    "Alright, listen up!" Aron shouted, clapping his hands for attention. "You''ve all been briefed. You know who we''re looking for."


    One of the men raised a hand, frowning. "Uh, sir? Are we sure these descriptions are... reliable? Because, no offense, but some of them sound like bad fanfiction."


    "There''s no confirmed photo of the man," Aron replied, not missing a beat. "This is all the intel we''ve got. We work with what we have."


    Another operative swiped through the info packet on a tablet, raising an eyebrow as he read aloud. "Built like a mountain, with the charm of a Greek god and the hair of a shampoo commercial?"


    "Are we tracking a fugitive or a mythological thirst trap?" another guy muttered.


    "That''s nothing," someone else chimed in. "Ours says he once punched a bear... to save the bear from itself."


    There was a long pause.


    "¡­What does that even mean?"


    The laughter was low but contagious. Another operative joined in, holding up his screen. "Here''s ours: he''s supposedly six-foot-seven, muscles on muscles, voice like thunder, eyes like twin suns, and he smells like courage."


    "So basically, a cologne ad," someone snorted. "We''re looking for a cologne ad, not a suspect."


    "Enough!" Aron barked, his voice slicing through the noise. "This is what we''ve got. And we''ve got a sighting, suspected to be him, in the mountains. We are going to use every resource available to find him. Understood?"


    There were nods, quiet affirmations, and the mood shifted. Still skeptical. Still confused. But focused now. Ready to move.


    As Aron turned around, he broke into a sprint, and the rest of the squads followed close behind. Together, they rushed toward three relatively large helicopters waiting with rotors already whining to life. Within moments, the blades were spinning fast, cutting through the air, and the aircraft lifted off the ground like giant metal birds.


    As they flew over the city, people on the streets stopped what they were doing to watch. One helicopter wasn''t unusual. Two was noteworthy. But three, flying low and tight in formation? That got attention. Phones came out. Fingers pointed skyward. Some guessed it was a movie shoot. Others thought maybe a high-stakes rescue team was headed into the mountains. Either way, it wasn''t something you saw every day.


    Up in the mountains, the lead helicopter reached the designated search area first. The zone was huge, miles of forested wilderness sprawled in every direction. Too much for one team to handle alone. The helicopters split into a triangle formation, each covering a different section of terrain.


    From above, the plan was simple: fan out, spread wide, search hard.


    Thick ropes uncoiled and dropped from the choppers like vines.


    "Need help, sir?" one of the squad members asked as they prepped to descend.


    "I''ve done this before," Aron said, already gripping the rope. He slid down effortlessly, barely slowing at the end before jumping to the ground with practiced ease.


    One of the men still in the chopper leaned toward the door, watching. "Wait¡­ who is that guy? I thought he was just some rich snob."


    "Does it matter?" another squad member snapped. "Our job is to help him search for this guy. So shut it and get moving."


    The rest of the teams rappelled down from the helicopters, one after another, boots hitting dirt and leaves. The search had officially begun.


    The mountain was dense. Heavy tree cover. Tall trunks and thick undergrowth. Even the air felt crowded, like it didn''t want them there. Plants twisted in strange directions, and visibility dropped fast, anything more than a few feet away was just a blur of green and shadow.


    The helicopters stayed above, circling with slow, steady passes. Inside, crew monitored thermal imaging scanners, eyes glued to screens.


    "We''re getting no heat signatures," one crew member reported into his headset. "Just animals and our own teams. No signs of anyone else."


    "Why are we even wasting time in this place?" someone grumbled over the comms. "If no one''s here, why not move on?"


    Aron stopped walking and turned to face the voice.


    "This is the last known location he was seen," he said, voice low but sharp. "We''re not here because it''s easy. We''re here because it matters."


    He took a step closer, eyes locked on the man who had complained. "And you need to remember who we''re looking for. Does anything about those descriptions sound like we''re tracking an ordinary man? Because I can promise you, someone like that, someone who doesn''t want to be found, isn''t going to show up on your cheap little sensors."


    The squad went quiet.


    Then, without waiting for a response, Aron turned back and pushed forward into the trees.


    The squad members just stared at each other, expressions ranging from confused to mildly horrified.


    "I think we might''ve been hired by a crazy person," one of them muttered.


    They pressed deeper into the forest, the brush thick and clinging, branches snagging at their gear. Eventually, something caught Aron''s eye, and he sprinted ahead, fast and focused.


    When the others caught up, they found him standing over it, silent and tense.


    "¡­Is that a freaking bear?" one of them asked, leaning in. "And, not just any bear, a giant, brown-furred, muscle-mountain of a bear. That''s a Grizzly, right? But¡­ how did it even die?" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They circled around the body. The bear was massive, motionless, sprawled across the forest floor like a fallen titan. But its body had barely any damage, just one area wrecked.


    "The only wounds are on its face," another observed. "It looks mangled. Like something just pounded it straight in."


    "Wait¡­ do you think the bear punched itself?" one of the younger guys asked, totally serious.


    Everyone turned and stared at him.


    "No, seriously, remember the intel packet? ''Punched a bear¡­ to save the bear from itself''? It means the rumors were true!"


    "Sir," someone asked dryly, "can I hit this idiot?"


    "Permission granted," Aron said without looking up. "But only after the mission."


    Just then, a burst of static crackled from the walkie-talkies strapped to their belts. One of the other teams was checking in.


    "Following a sighting from the helicopter, we picked up a heat source farther up the mountain. We managed to locate a cabin!" a voice reported. "Requesting permission to enter, or awaiting further orders."


    Aron''s eyes narrowed. "What sector are they in?"


    There was a pause.


    "¡­What the¡ª?" the voice cut off. "No. No! No!" A scream pierced the channel, and then, silence. The radio went dead.


    Nobody moved.


    "It''s him," Aron said under his breath. "It''s Hercules. I know it."

 Chapter 151: Take My Offer

    When Max arrived at the meeting spot, he wasn''t alone.


    Wolf was already there, waiting like they''d agreed the day before. But something was... off. It took Max half a second to realize it wasn''t Wolf himself. It was what he was wearing.


    Wolf noticed the look.


    "What?" he said, shrugging. "I can''t risk giving myself away, right? Us Pit members have a look. So I figured I''d wear the exact opposite of it."


    He motioned to the woolly jumper he was wearing, even though it was mid-spring and definitely not sweater weather. He had on loose brown trousers and, topping it off, a pair of round, fake glasses that made him look like a professor from some low-budget mystery drama.


    "The glasses are too much," Max said, deadpan. "Actually, all of it''s too much. But start by ditching the glasses."


    Wolf sighed and pulled them off, tucking them into his pocket.


    Just like last time, the car arrived right on cue, sleek, expensive, and clearly designed to impress. The whole over-the-top, luxury aesthetic screamed still trying to win Max over. But there was one key difference this time.


    It wasn''t the same car, it was a BBW, still high-end, but not quite the show-off model from before. And when they slid into the backseat, there was only one other person waiting for them.


    Dud.


    The moment he laid eyes on Wolf, he didn''t even try to hide his reaction.


    "What the heck are you wearing?" he blurted. "Is your plan to get beat up for charity or something?"


    "It''s the weekend," Wolf said casually, reaching for the glasses that weren''t there, then stopping mid-motion as he remembered Max made him take them off.


    "This is how I dress on weekends."


    Dud just shook his head, muttering something under his breath.


    The setup was familiar, same kind of job, same kind of tension, but the people were different. The backup this time was a new crew, smaller in size and unfamiliar. Max and Wolf didn''t recognize a single face.


    They weren''t at some back alley or grimy warehouse this time, either. This place was fancier, a restaurant inside a larger commercial building, nestled on the fourth floor. Offices surrounded it. It felt more corporate, but that only made things feel more off.


    "We''ve had to spread our forces out," Dud explained as they approached the building. "Multiple hits at once. Turns out the Chalkline boys aren''t dumb enough to just sit around and wait. So this is us adapting."


    He stopped at the elevator, pressing the call button with a sigh.


    "Which means we''re gonna be relying on your manpower more from now on. So try not to lose a finger. Or a hand. I''m not picking up that crap for you unless it''s got a ring on it."


    The routine was the same as before, storm the restaurant, shut it down, and clean house.


    Only this time, Dud didn''t wait for the guests to leave. He walked in and started swinging.


    The chaos spread instantly. Screams. Chairs crashing. People scrambling to get out. In the end, the result was the same, the place cleared itself.


    But Dud hadn''t been lying earlier. With fewer backup members this time, both Max and Wolf had to get their hands dirty fast. There was no easing into it, they were thrown right into the deep end.


    Max didn''t mind. Not even a little.


    He welcomed the pressure. Every punch, every move, every bit of the adrenaline-fueled rhythm, it was waking something up inside him. Something old. Something sharp. The instincts were coming back. Muscle memory. Flow. Power.


    He moved like he belonged in the fight.


    One opponent swung. Max blocked and countered without thinking. Another charged him, he slammed them into a table. A third came from the side, but Max spun, ducked, and cracked the guy across the jaw.


    He backed himself against a wall, tightening his position so he only had to deal with what was in front of him. It was efficient. Brutal. Precise.


    Wolf wasn''t far off, holding his own with the kind of unpredictable style that kept people guessing, and bleeding.


    The current members of the Rejected Crops watched the two of them work. Some of these guys had never seen Max or Wolf in action before. Now, they couldn''t look away.


    When the last opponent hit the floor, the outcome was obvious.


    Another win. And a surprisingly easy one, all things considered.


    But everyone knew why.


    It was because of Max and Wolf.


    "Excellent, excellent!" Chrono said, grinning behind his desk in the massive hangar office later that evening. "You two, marvelous. Absolutely marvelous."


    He clapped his hands together as he spoke. "One of our other groups had a little hiccup today, so I was mildly concerned. But then I get the update, your team walked away without a scratch. And I said to myself, of course they did. I''ve got an eye for this stuff."


    He pulled open a drawer and slid two thick envelopes across the desk. The same kind of payment as before, ten grand each. Clean. Heavy.


    Most kids would''ve lost their minds getting that kind of cash in under a week. Chrono knew that. He was betting on it.


    In fact, the pay was higher than what some of the Billion Bloodline members were pulling.


    Then his smile shifted, still wide, but heavier with intent.


    "I''ve got a suggestion for you, Max," he said. "Well, for both of you, really."


    He leaned forward.


    "Drop out of school."


    Max didn''t respond. Neither did Wolf.


    "I''m serious," Chrono went on. "Come join us full time. Your parents, your family, whoever? I doubt they''d be surprised. And let me tell you something I''ve learned over the years: the fastest way to shut someone up is to show them the money."


    He tapped the envelopes with two fingers.


    "You bring home this kind of cash, your parents won''t care what you''re doing. Trust me, they''ll understand. So what do you say?" His voice dropped slightly. "How about dropping out... and joining us on a more full time basis?"


    Max needed to buy time.


    Getting on Chrono''s good side? That was part of the plan. But dropping out of school? That was never on the table. Not now. Not ever. So he gave the safest answer he could think of, something that sounded open without actually committing to anything.


    "I''ll think about it," Max said, nodding slowly. "The offer''s... really good. And honestly? I enjoy being here. But I''m not sure I''m ready for full-time yet. There''s only one more year of school, it''d feel weird to quit now, you know?"


    Chrono didn''t say a word.


    He just twirled his fingers together, looking thoughtful, or at least trying to seem like it, then turned his gaze to Wolf.


    Waiting.


    Wolf gave a lazy shrug and pointed at Max. "I''m following him," he said simply. "He''s the reason I''m even in this life. He''s the one who recommended me to you. So wherever he goes, I''m going too." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max thought it was a decent answer. It pushed the attention back on him but without sounding like a flat-out rejection. Clean. Low drama. But still¡­ he didn''t like the way Chrono was looking at them.


    The smile was gone.


    "Both of you, feel free to head home," Chrono said, waving a hand like he was dismissing kids from detention.


    Max didn''t need to be told twice. The tone in Chrono''s voice said enough, he was not happy.


    Once the two were out of sight, Chrono turned toward Na, who had been standing quietly beside him the whole time.


    "What do you think of Max?" Chrono asked, his eyes still on the door. "It felt like he was dodging my offer."


    "I believe so too," Na replied coolly. "And¡­ there''s been talk. Some of the other members have started complaining about the favoritism you''re showing him. The higher pay. The luxury. The attention."


    Chrono''s tone sharpened. "So you think I''m making a mistake?"


    "Of course not, sir," Na said quickly. "But if we''re investing this many resources into one person, money, image, trust, we need to make sure it pays off. Maybe¡­"


    He paused just long enough to make it matter.


    "Maybe we find a way to control him. Just in case things¡­ get out of hand."

 Chapter 152: A Super Student

    Chapter 152: A Super Student


    The weekend job had wrapped up earlier than usual. The sun was still hanging low in the sky, golden light spilling across the buildings. No rush. No threat. Just Max and Wolf walking side by side through the main high street, heading toward the train station.


    It was one of those rare quiet moments, the kind where people let things slip without meaning to. And Wolf, as always, took the opportunity to pry.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten a lot better at fighting,¡± Wolf said, hands tucked behind his head like he didn¡¯t have a care in the world. ¡°No, scratch that, that¡¯s not quite right. It¡¯s like you already knew how to fight, but your body couldn¡¯t keep up. Now it¡¯s starting to catch up.¡±


    This guy gets it, Max thought. His read is scary sharp. And honestly, he wasn¡¯t wrong.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Max said. ¡°But according to you, I¡¯m still C-rank. I was lucky to beat Dipter. And even now, if I had to fight him again, I¡¯d lose, unless I pulled off some other trick.¡±


    He paused, letting the words hang for a second.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I have to get stronger. Fast.¡±


    ¡°Right, right,¡± Wolf nodded. ¡°But, honestly? You¡¯re moving fast already. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s even possible to progress quicker without snapping something in your spine. And come on, with all the money you¡¯ve got now, you could just chill. Play games. Live it up. Why keep pushing so hard?¡±


    Max didn¡¯t answer right away.


    If he said, I need to take out the White Tiger, he could already imagine Wolf¡¯s reaction. And it wouldn¡¯t be good. Max didn¡¯t know exactly where Wolf¡¯s loyalties stood, but if he had to guess, they were probably a lot more aligned with the White Tiger than with him.


    So Max kept it vague. Careful.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got my own way of getting stronger,¡± he said. ¡°And I need to make sure nothing falls apart along the way.¡±


    Wolf didn¡¯t press further. But Max could feel it, he was thinking about it. Reading between the lines.


    Max thought back to the research he¡¯d been doing. The deep-dive into the world of Superhumans.


    Most of the info online was vague, half-whispers, twisted rumors, scattered scraps on forums buried ten pages deep in search results. Still, Max had tracked it all. Paid access fees. Dug into shady websites. Followed every lead, no matter how thin or ridiculous it sounded.


    He didn¡¯t waste a single opportunity.


    That¡¯s when he found something.


    A name: Hercules. A man he¡¯d heard about before, but whose whereabouts had always been a mystery. No one knew where he lived. No confirmed photos. No interviews. Just stories, wild, impossible stories. Sightings in forests. Hikers swearing they¡¯d seen someone ¡°not normal¡± near mountain trails. These reports weren¡¯t even confined to one place, they were spread across the country.


    But Max found a way to narrow it down.


    All signs pointed to the Notting Hill area. Or somewhere nearby. He pieced it together from another lead, something most people would¡¯ve missed.


    Apparently, Hercules had taken on a student once.


    That part had been buried deep. Scattered references. No names. No clear records. But Max found enough to connect the dots. The student had gone to a local school. Not part of any gang. No affiliations. Just¡­ a force of nature.


    Unstoppable.


    This was a few years back. Before Dipter had shown up on the scene. And the wildest part?


    The kid had still been in middle school.


    That alone made the rumors sound absurd. But to Max, it only added weight. Someone that young, that dangerous, could¡¯ve only come from Superhuman training.


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    Apparently, the student snapped. Went too far. Killed three classmates in a fight. And even though he was rumored to be Hercules¡¯s pupil, that didn¡¯t protect him. Not legally. Not socially. Not in any way that mattered.


    After that, the kid vanished from all talk. Max knew why. Even being tied to a Superhuman couldn¡¯t save you if the world saw you as a monster.


    There hadn¡¯t been anyone willing to step in. Not back then. And even if Hercules had tried to act himself, then what?


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    It probably wouldn¡¯t have made a difference.


    Max figured even Hercules hadn¡¯t seen it coming. Maybe he didn¡¯t believe his own student would go that far. That kind of violence? That kind of outcome? There was a good chance Hercules had been blindsided by it, which would explain why he never stepped forward. Never defended the kid. Never tried to intervene.


    Now, that student was just another name in the system.


    Locked up in juvie.


    And once he turned of age, he¡¯d be transferred, straight into prison, alongside the adults.


    He¡¯s probably in the same juvie as Dipter, Max thought. I wonder if they¡¯ve ever met. Then again¡­ it¡¯s not really my business.


    The thought hung for a moment, then he shook it off.


    If he¡¯s in juvie, he can¡¯t help me. I¡¯m not trying to learn from a Superhuman¡¯s student, I want to learn from the Superhuman himself.


    That was the other reason Max had picked Hercules as his target.


    He had taken a student once. Which meant, unlike some of the others out there, Hercules wasn¡¯t completely closed off. He was willing to teach. To train. To pass something down. That gave Max hope, maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could actually work out.


    Eventually, Max and Wolf reached the train station. The low hum of the city buzzed in the background, and the sky was starting to burn orange.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re the type to overthink everything,¡± Wolf said as he turned to him. ¡°So I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve already got some plan to get stronger.¡±


    Max didn¡¯t respond, but Wolf wasn¡¯t really asking.


    ¡°So if you ever want a re-ranking from me,¡± Wolf added with a grin, ¡°first one¡¯s on the house. I¡¯d love to see how far you can go.¡±


    He gave a lazy wave and headed off toward the platform.


    Max just watched him go, half-hoping no new mission would come through anytime soon.


    Wolf was useful, sure. But his rate? Was getting expensive.


    When Max finally got back to his apartment, it was just after six. The sun was low, the light spilling through the windows in a dull orange haze.


    The place was quiet. No one was there. No sign of Aron either.


    Max pulled out his phone, thumb hovering as he checked for messages.


    Nothing.


    No updates. No calls. No sign of Aron.


    He stared at the screen a little longer than he meant to, then locked it and let out a slow breath.


    ¡°If he¡¯s not here,¡± Max muttered to himself, ¡°then that means he¡¯s still out there. Still searching, right?¡±


    He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the door, tension settling in his chest like a stone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why, but¡­ I¡¯m a little worried about him.¡±


    His voice dropped, barely audible now.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine against Hercules¡­ right?¡±


    But even as he said it, the doubt didn¡¯t go away.

 Chapter 153: The Bulding Of A Hard Life

    Chapter 153: The Bulding Of A Hard Life


    Dipter had been sentenced to juvenile detention for a total of five years. The charges against him included the use of illegal substances and his role in running a particular underground organization. He wasn¡¯t the only one, several of his close friends were caught up in it too.


    Due to their age, their sentences weren¡¯t as harsh as they could¡¯ve been. The court had ruled they be sent to a juvenile detention center instead of prison. For now. But once they came of age, they¡¯d be transferred, no questions asked.


    Dipter didn¡¯t know how to feel about any of it.


    He¡¯d never expected to end up in a place like this.


    Back in the real world, when he¡¯d hit a few kids his age, the teachers always brushed it off. Boys will be boys, they¡¯d say with a shrug. Even when things went too far, the worst that ever happened was a scolding or a warning. The police barely paid attention.


    At school, he¡¯d had the principal and most of the teachers in his back pocket. It was then that Dipter realized, I¡¯m untouchable.


    Or so he thought.


    The drugs? They weren¡¯t even directly tied to him. Usually, the police went after the bigger fish. Even the low-level sellers didn¡¯t get more than a slap on the wrist. But this time was different. He couldn¡¯t slip through the cracks. Not with someone specific behind the scenes, pulling strings and making sure he was locked up for good.


    Someone had made this personal.


    What stood out was that all the people arrested with him were sent to different detention centers. It wasn¡¯t random. The authorities wanted to keep them separated, make sure they couldn¡¯t regroup or build a gang inside the system.


    The entire process felt distant. Surreal. Dipter went through the motions like a ghost. The numbness never really left.


    When he arrived at the detention center, he was placed in a room with five others. Six of them total. Ages ranged from thirteen to seventeen. All boys. All broken in their own ways.


    They were scum. He knew it right away. Worse than him, even if the world lumped them together.


    Dipter still believed he¡¯d only fought to protect what was his. That he was just trying to rise up in his world. But these kids? They didn¡¯t care about loyalty. They didn¡¯t care about limits. They were the kind of people who burned everything just to watch the flames.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the first one to try asserting dominance.


    He was around Dipter¡¯s age. Claimed that all new guys had to prove themselves by taking on the worst jobs, cleaning the toilets, making the beds, running errands for everyone else.


    Dipter refused.


    They didn¡¯t take that well.


    All five tried to jump him at once.


    They thought he was an easy target. Fresh meat. The new guy.


    They were wrong.


    Moments later, they were all laid out on the floor, coughing and clutching their ribs. Dipter had a few bruises on his face and arms, he¡¯d definitely been hit, but he walked away standing.


    Guess the guys in here are a little stronger than your average delinquent, he thought. Or maybe just more reckless. They don¡¯t care if they get hurt.


    After that, the pecking order was clear. No one in his room tried him again.


    But outside? That was a different story.


    Nearly every day, someone picked a fight. Some he won. Some he lost, especially when he was up against bigger groups. But he never backed down. And eventually, people started to notice.


    He stopped being seen as a target and became something else. A threat. A name people hesitated to cross.


    Bit by bit, he was earning their respect.


    And once that happened, the constant harassment slowed. The meaningless fights died down. His days grew a little quieter.


    Still, this was juvie. That meant mandatory lessons, mandatory schedules. Everyone had to go to class. Dipter followed the rules, showed up like he was supposed to.


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    Everyone did.


    Except for one person.


    Every class Dipter went to, every single one, there was always one empty seat. Always the same seat. And Dipter knew exactly who it belonged to.


    The student was tall, with an athletic build. Not bulky, but strong. Controlled. Their long, straight hair hung low over their shoulders, and their face rarely showed anything at all.


    They never came to class.


    Not once.


    Teachers ignored it. Guards ignored it. Even the other students acted like the guy didn¡¯t exist.


    So Dipter ignored him too.


    But it gnawed at him.


    Why does the entire system pretend this guy isn¡¯t here?


    The question stayed in the back of his mind, even when he didn¡¯t want it to.


    As more time passed, Dipter began to see an upside to all this.


    The kids in juvie were stronger. Harder. They were way more dangerous than the average thug on the outside. They didn¡¯t have morals. They didn¡¯t play games. If someone could actually get control over a group like that, and protect them from landing back in a place like this¡­


    That group could become unstoppable.


    Everything I lost before I got locked up, I can take it all back.


    And I can use this place to do it.


    He started working on a plan.


    First step? Reach out to Popper.


    Popper was one of the only kids Dipter had fought to a draw. They¡¯d clashed several times before Dipter finally managed to beat him. After that, the fights stopped.


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    Dipter sat down across from him. Popper had a black eyepatch covering his right eye and a constant smirk on his face like he was always planning something.


    ¡°So,¡± Popper said, chewing slowly. ¡°You wanna make a group. One that starts in here, but sticks together on the outside.¡±


    He laughed, shaking his head.


    But then, after a second, he leaned forward and lowered his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what,¡± he said. ¡°Get him to join you¡­¡±


    He tilted his head, pointing toward the kid sitting completely alone across the room, the one with the long hair and the empty classroom seat.


    ¡°¡­and I¡¯ll join too. No questions asked. I¡¯ll even bring the rest of the guys with me.¡±


    Popper leaned back, grin widening.


    ¡°Actually, forget that, you won¡¯t need to convince anyone else. If he joins you, everyone here will follow.¡±

 Chapter 154: The Man Named Hugo

    Chapter 154: The Man Named Hugo


    Dipter hadn¡¯t done any real research into the long-haired student. The guy had already been in juvie when Dipter arrived, and since no one talked about him like he was important, Dipter figured he wasn¡¯t.


    From what he remembered, no major names had been thrown into juvie over the past couple of years, at least, none that mattered to him. So he¡¯d never given it much thought.


    Yeah, the special treatment was odd. But when you¡¯re serving five years, you learn to pick your battles. If someone got to skip class, let them. Dipter didn¡¯t have the energy to care.


    But now?


    Now he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about it.


    Why did Popper say that one person could sway the entire facility? S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Why him?


    Dipter sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling.


    Have I not done enough? he wondered. Haven¡¯t I fought enough to prove I¡¯m capable?


    He clenched his fists.


    Maybe it¡¯s not about strength. There¡¯s no shortage of strong guys in here.


    But something still didn¡¯t add up.


    *Is this a trap? Why does everyone, *including the guards, leave him alone?


    Is this another ¡°Max¡± situation? Maybe it¡¯s not just power. Maybe it¡¯s something else.


    Across the room, one of his roommates was fidgeting with a piece of paper, folding and refolding it without looking up.


    Dipter sat up. ¡°Hey. The kid with the long hair, what¡¯s his deal?¡±


    The other boy didn¡¯t even pause. ¡°You mean Hugo?¡±


    Dipter nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know everything,¡± the roommate said, still folding. ¡°I joined about a year ago. He was already here. And even back then, things were already like this. Nobody messed with him. Ever.¡±


    He shrugged.


    ¡°He¡¯s allowed to do whatever he wants. Doesn¡¯t show up to class, skips routines, doesn¡¯t talk to anyone, and no one stops him. Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they let him walk straight out the front door someday.¡±


    Dipter didn¡¯t answer. But now the name Hugo was locked in his brain. And so were the questions.


    ¡°I used to ask the same questions you¡¯re asking now,¡± Lith said, finally setting the folded paper down. ¡°From what I could figure out, he¡¯s been here longer than anyone.¡±


    That immediately struck Dipter as odd.


    Longer than anyone? Hugo was the same age as most of the older kids, seventeen at most. If he¡¯d been here before everyone, then when exactly had he gotten locked up?


    ¡°And the rumor is,¡± Lith continued, lowering his voice a little, ¡°he¡¯s stronger than anyone in this place. But the real kicker? The ones who¡¯ve actually seen him fight? They never talk about it. Like, ever. They act like it never happened.¡±


    Dipter narrowed his eyes. ¡°So that¡¯s it? He¡¯s just¡­ strong?¡±


    It didn¡¯t sit right. There had to be more. Was Popper serious? Just get Hugo on board, and the rest of juvie would follow? That couldn¡¯t be all there was to it.


    If it¡¯s really that simple, Dipter thought, then beating him should be enough. Prove I¡¯m stronger, make him submit, and he follows me. Simple hierarchy stuff. But¡­ something still doesn¡¯t feel right. I¡¯m not convinced. And I don¡¯t like it.


    He looked over at Lith.


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    ¡°Do me a favor,¡± Dipter said. ¡°Start a fight with him.¡±


    The paper slipped from Lith¡¯s hands and landed on the floor with a soft flutter.


    ¡°¡­What did you just say?¡± Lith blinked. ¡°You want me to start a fight with Hugo?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Or, ask him first if he wants to join the group I¡¯m building. Maybe he¡¯ll surprise you and say yes.¡± Dipter leaned forward slightly. ¡°But if he doesn¡¯t, then you¡¯ll have to fight him.¡±


    Silence. Lith looked stunned.


    And right on cue, the door opened and the other four roommates filed in, laughing about something, until they saw the look on Lith¡¯s face.


    ¡°Whoa, what¡¯s up with you?¡± one of them asked. ¡°You look like someone just told you your mom¡¯s dating the warden.¡±


    ¡°Talk to him!¡± Lith snapped, pointing at Dipter. ¡°He¡¯s lost his mind, he wants me to fight Hugo!¡±


    The room froze.


    All of them went dead quiet.


    Dipter glanced around. The shift was immediate, expressions wiped clean, like someone had dropped a ghost into the middle of the room.


    And that¡¯s when he realized something.


    Lith had said no one saw Hugo fight. No one talked about it. But somehow, all of them reacted like Hugo was something more than just strong.


    Like he was something to fear. Not like Max. Not like Dipter himself. But like someone that no one wanted to wake up.


    What are you, Hugo? Dipter wondered. And why is everyone so afraid of you?


    ¡°Why do we even have to do this?¡± one of the guys muttered, glancing nervously at Dipter. ¡°I say we just leave the guy alone.¡±


    Dipter¡¯s jaw clenched. He jumped off his bed in one swift motion, twisted his neck to the side with a loud crack, and before anyone could react, he charged forward. Lifting his leg, he slammed a kick into one of the guys¡¯ stomachs, sending him crashing into another.


    Dipter didn¡¯t stop.


    ¡°Do I need to remind you what happened last time?¡± he growled, then whipped his leg around, landing a brutal kick across another guy¡¯s face.


    The rest, frustrated and panicked, tried to fight back.


    Dipter welcomed it.


    One of them lunged, Dipter snapped his leg upward, nailing the guy square in the head. His neck jerked back, body stumbling.


    A few more precise, punishing kicks and they were all on the floor again, groaning, clutching their ribs and faces in pain.


    ¡°Damn¡­ did you get stronger?¡± one of them wheezed, rubbing his cheek. ¡°I guess all those daily fights really did level you up, huh?¡±


    Dipter rolled his shoulders and exhaled slowly.


    ¡°I can keep going,¡± he said coldly, ¡°but I think we all know how that ends.¡±


    He looked around at them, scattered and broken.


    ¡°With Hugo, you don¡¯t know whether you¡¯ll win or lose. There¡¯s a chance. But me? You will lose. And it won¡¯t be quick.¡±


    He paused, stepping back.


    ¡°I only wanted one of you to test him. But now? All five of you, go at him together. If Hugo can¡¯t even beat that, then he¡¯s not worth the hype.¡±


    None of them responded. They didn¡¯t need to. The message was clear. Dipter had made the choice for them.


    Still, he gave them a day to recover.


    The next day, during break, the yard was packed.


    Everyone was outside, nearly two hundred inmates in total. Some playing, some pacing, some watching from the sidelines. Dipter stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes locked on the bleachers above the basketball court.


    And there he was.


    Hugo.


    Sitting alone at the very top of the stands. Motionless. Calm. Like he was waiting for something, or maybe like he didn¡¯t care about anything at all.


    The five made their way across the yard, glancing back at Dipter one last time before heading up.


    One of them cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.


    ¡°Hey, Hugo! We wanna talk!¡±

 Chapter 155: Non Human Strength

    Chapter 155: Non Human Strength


    Hugo sat still, hands resting calmly on his knees, eyes scanning the playing field below.


    He wasn¡¯t doing anything. He never did. Never caused trouble. Never raised his voice. Always kept to himself.


    For three years, no one had dared to call out to him.


    But today¡­ that changed.


    A voice rang out across the yard, loud, direct, impossible to ignore. For the first time in years, someone had spoken to him.


    Hugo looked down.


    Below, a small group of students stood gathered near the base of the bleachers. He didn¡¯t recognize any of them.


    ¡°Hey!¡± one of them shouted again. ¡°If you actually want to listen to what we have to say, why don¡¯t you come down here?¡±


    Still, Hugo said nothing.


    He didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t flinch. Just watched them, his expression unreadable.


    Down below, the group exchanged glances. They knew this wouldn¡¯t be enough, not for Dipter, not after what they¡¯d been pushed into doing.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the same student said with a sigh. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re going up.¡±


    He looked around at the others.


    ¡°Stay alert. Just in case. I don¡¯t know what this guy¡¯s deal is, but if the rumors are even half true, he could strike without warning.¡±


    One by one, they started climbing the bleacher steps, steel staircases that served as makeshift benches, stacked like an open frame. Hugo sat at the top, about three meters off the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for a fight,¡± one of the boys whispered. ¡°But there¡¯s five of us, and if we stay ready and he¡¯s caught off guard, we might get out of this without too much damage.¡±


    They weren¡¯t alone in watching what was unfolding.


    The commotion had caught the attention of nearly everyone in the yard.


    The usual chaos, the arguing, the pacing, the games, had all come to a stop. Conversations went quiet. Heads turned.


    People stared.


    Because no one, in years, had ever walked up to Hugo. Not like this.


    No one had ever tested him.


    Hugo had never caused problems, but his silence carried weight. The kind that didn¡¯t come from rumors alone. And yet, no one had seen what he could actually do.


    Until now.


    A buzz of curiosity spread through the yard.Was today the day they finally saw it?


    Even Popper, from across the field, had paused. His one good eye followed the group carefully, tracking every step they took as they climbed toward the silent storm sitting at the top.


    Something was about to happen. And everyone knew it.


    ¡°Dipter¡­¡± Popper muttered from the sidelines, watching with a crooked grin. ¡°You¡¯re not as stupid as I thought. Got those fools to act on your behalf instead. Clever move¡­¡±


    He leaned back against the wall.


    ¡°¡­Although I doubt the situation is anything like what you¡¯re expecting.¡±


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    Across the yard, another group had taken notice, the guards.


    They weren¡¯t relaxed. Not at all.


    A few of them stood near the yard¡¯s entrance, watching with tight jaws and uneasy eyes. One turned to the other, voice low but tense.


    ¡°Do we let this happen? Step in before something goes down?¡±


    The older of the two shook his head slowly.


    ¡°We let it play out,¡± he said. ¡°Sometimes something like this has to happen. Helps remind the rest that kid¡¯s not one to mess with. You can feel it, something¡¯s changed. If we shut this down now, it¡¯ll just blow up somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°I get that,¡± the first guard replied, ¡°but there¡¯s another problem.¡±


    He leaned in slightly.


    ¡°If he gets going¡­ is there anyone who can stop him?¡±


    Neither of them answered that.


    And by then, it was already too late.


    The five boys had reached the top of the bleachers.


    They were face to face with Hugo now, who hadn¡¯t moved an inch since they¡¯d started climbing. Still seated. Still calm. Still staring out like none of it mattered.


    ¡°Alright,¡± one of the boys said, breathing heavy as he stepped forward. ¡°We came to you. That¡¯s what you wanted, right?¡±


    No response.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got something to ask,¡± the boy went on. ¡°It¡¯s about a group, our group. We¡¯re forming it while we¡¯re inside, so we¡¯ve got something ready when we¡¯re out. No more coming back to a place like this.¡±


    He smiled nervously. ¡°We¡¯re trying to build something smart. A crew that can stop all this crap from happening again. A system that works.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± he said, spreading his hands, ¡°what do you say? You in?¡±


    Hugo finally moved.


    Not much, just his head turning slightly to look at the group now surrounding him. One in front. Two to his left. Two to his right. All of them standing, hearts thudding, pretending not to be nervous.


    He didn¡¯t speak.


    Just stared at the one in front of him.


    ¡°Are you scared or something?¡± the lead boy snapped. ¡°Or maybe you¡¯re mute? You gonna say something, or just keep ignoring me while I¡¯m right in front of your face?!¡±


    His voice echoed across the yard. Everyone was watching. And Hugo still hadn¡¯t said a word.


    ¡°Alright, you rude f***!¡± the student snapped, raising his hand and slapping Hugo across the face, hard.


    SMACK.


    The sound cracked across the yard like a gunshot. Everyone heard it. The silence made sure of that.


    ¡°You think we¡¯re scared of you?¡± the boy shouted. ¡°Because of some dumb-ass rumors? You don¡¯t know what we did to get locked up in this place, you dumb fu, ¡±


    He didn¡¯t finish the sentence.


    Hugo¡¯s boot slammed into his stomach like a sledgehammer, lifting the boy clean off the ground. One second, he was standing. The next, he was airborne.


    Time seemed to slow as his body soared, up, up, way up. Higher than anyone had any right to be from a single kick.


    He wasn¡¯t falling.


    He was flying.


    Then gravity took him back, and the crash was brutal. He landed flat on his back with a sickening crack, his body skidding across the concrete. Skin tore against the ground as he scraped to a stop nearly thirty meters away from the platform.


    Everyone stared in stunned silence.


    One kick.


    Just one.


    And it had launched someone farther than most people could long jump.


    The remaining four on the platform didn¡¯t wait. They turned fast, legs trembling, and scrambled down the steps as quickly as they could, desperate to escape.


    Across the yard, Dipter saw them.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± he shouted. ¡°Get back up there!¡±


    But they were running.


    Yeah, the kick was impressive, but Dipter had seen kicks like that before. From elevated ground, with good form and timing, some people could manage that. Maybe. He wasn¡¯t convinced yet. He wanted more.


    He wanted to see how far Hugo¡¯s strength really went.


    And that¡¯s when Hugo moved again.


    He stepped to the edge of the platform, and jumped. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From three meters up, he dropped like a boulder and landed on the concrete with a heavy thud. Still silent. Still calm.


    Dipter¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    Hugo turned toward the bleachers, toward the same platform he¡¯d just been sitting on, and reached out with both hands.


    He gripped the bottom row of the steel benches.


    And lifted.


    The metal groaned. Bolts strained. Then, impossibly, the entire lower section of the bleachers began to rise.


    And it didn¡¯t stop.


    Higher and higher, Hugo hoisted it, until the entire platform was tilted up above his head, steel frames and benches casting a massive shadow over the yard.


    Veins bulged along his neck and arms like thick vines, pulsing with unnatural power.


    ¡°AHHHH!¡± Hugo finally let out a primal roar as he locked eyes with the others below.


    Even then, his face was hard to read. The emotion, if there was any, was buried deep. It wasn¡¯t rage. It wasn¡¯t pride. It was¡­ something colder.


    Dipter took a step back without meaning to.


    ¡°¡­Alright,¡± he said, swallowing hard. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not normal human strength.¡±


    He stared up at the platform still held over Hugo¡¯s head.


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t even be possible.¡±

 Chapter 156: The Great Power

    Chapter 156: The Great Power


    The giant metal bleacher was still held high above Hugo¡¯s head.


    Veins were bulging from his forearms, his biceps, his neck, thick and rope-like, pulsing under his skin like vines fighting to break free. And Dipter? He could only stare in disbelief.


    No amount of training, no matter how many years, how much strength, how much pain, could get him that level of power.


    It wasn¡¯t just physical.


    It was inhuman.


    All around the yard, inmates had stopped breathing. The boys near the basketball court, the ones who had laughed and joked just minutes ago, now stood frozen. Wide-eyed. Silent. There was fear on every single face.


    They weren¡¯t just wondering what Hugo could do now.


    They were wondering what he was about to do next.


    Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled to life behind them.


    ¡°Hugo! Place the stand down, now!¡±


    The announcement echoed across the yard. The guards¡¯ voices sounded strained, like they were trying to sound calm but were barely holding it together.


    ¡°They¡¯ve learned their lesson! They won¡¯t come near you again. Don¡¯t make this harder for yourself. There¡¯s no reason for your time here to be extended.¡±


    Dipter turned to look toward the guard station, and what he saw chilled him.


    Most of the guards were locked inside the building.


    Not preparing to come out. Not standing ready to intervene.


    Hiding.


    They weren¡¯t even trying to stop Hugo with force. Their only weapon now was negotiation. And judging by the looks on their faces, the few who were outside, they had no backup plan if that didn¡¯t work.


    They were screwed.


    ¡°Hugo,¡± the voice came again, a little more desperate this time, ¡°you¡¯ve done so well to make it this far without incident. We know you weren¡¯t the aggressor. We¡¯re prepared to let this go. Just put the stand down!¡±


    Everyone watched.


    Hugo stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. In and out. Chest rising and falling in deep, steady waves.


    Then he shifted.


    Slowly, he turned his body to the side.


    The massive bleacher platform tilted with him, still balanced above his head. And then, in one fluid motion, he hurled it.


    The structure slammed into the yard with a deafening crash, steel scraping across the concrete as it skidded to a stop. Dust rose into the air. Metal creaked. But no one was hurt.


    The ground shook. But the threat had passed.


    The negotiation had worked.


    Hugo stood in silence for a second longer, his shoulders still rising and falling. Then, without a word, he turned and walked calmly toward the portion of the bleachers he hadn¡¯t torn apart.


    He climbed back up, reached the very top step, sat down, and rested his elbows on his knees.


    Same position. Same silence. As if nothing had ever happened.


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    What Hugo had just done burned itself into everyone¡¯s memory. Etched in their minds like a scar.


    ¡°The rumors were true,¡± someone whispered.


    ¡°No kidding. No wonder no one messes with him. That strength¡­ is that even human?¡± sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Yeah, man. It was like watching a real-life superhero.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s what doesn¡¯t make sense. Why would someone like that be locked up in juvie? With the rest of us?¡±


    ¡°For real. Shouldn¡¯t he be in the news or something? Or like¡­ kept in some secret government facility with other superpowered freaks?¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t superpowers,¡± another kid chimed in. ¡°I bet my dad could do that if he got pissed enough.¡±


    ¡°Does your dad turn green too? ¡®Cause if so, I¡¯ll believe it.¡±


    Laughter cracked through the tension like a crack in glass.


    But Dipter didn¡¯t join in.


    He couldn¡¯t.


    His hand was shaking.


    And when he brought it up to his face, he realized something strange, his lips were pulled into a smile.


    Why am I smiling? he thought. And then it clicked.


    Now I understand what Popper meant. If I could get Hugo on our side, convince him to join us, everyone else would fall in line. No one would dare challenge it. With that kind of strength backing us¡­


    We could actually do something real.


    A part of him did wonder, how did Popper even know this? Why was he the only one who seemed to know what Hugo was really capable of?


    But the main prize was sitting right in front of him.


    And Dipter wasn¡¯t going to waste the moment.


    Without hesitation, he started walking toward the bleachers, toward Hugo.


    Up near the control tower, one of the guards slammed his fist on the railing. ¡°What is that kid doing? We just avoided a full-blown disaster, and now he¡¯s going to start another one?¡±


    The other guard squinted, shaking his head. ¡°No way. No way. No one would be that stupid. Not after what we all just saw. He¡¯s not going to fight him¡­ right?¡±


    Neither of them moved.


    Even if they wanted to stop it, they knew they wouldn¡¯t reach Dipter in time.


    Dipter climbed the stairs, every step heavier than the last. When he reached the top, Hugo hadn¡¯t moved. Not a single twitch.


    Not even after what just happened.


    Still calm. Still quiet. Still watching the world like it didn¡¯t matter.


    Dipter stood in front of him.


    ¡°The kids that came up here earlier,¡± Dipter said, steadying his voice. ¡°I was the one who sent them.¡±


    And for the first time, he saw something.


    Just a twitch.


    A flicker in Hugo¡¯s ear.


    He heard me.


    ¡°What they said, it was true,¡± Dipter began, standing tall in front of Hugo. ¡°I wanted you to join me. To help create something real when we got out. Something that meant we wouldn¡¯t end up in a place like this again.¡±


    He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head at himself.


    ¡°Someone told me if I got you on board, we could actually make it happen. Back then, I thought it would be me leading. My crew. My name.¡±


    He looked up at Hugo, calm, unmoving, like a mountain carved from silence.


    ¡°But now I realize how foolish that was.¡±


    Dipter¡¯s smile faded into something more honest.


    ¡°It¡¯s not me they¡¯d follow. It¡¯s you.¡±


    He gestured out toward the yard, toward the crowd still frozen in awe from earlier.


    ¡°With the kind of strength you have¡­ no one would question it. Everyone here would follow you. Not because of some speech or some plan, but because of what you are. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve changed my mind.¡±


    Dipter took a breath.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to join me. I want to join you. I want to help you build whatever vision you have.¡±


    He stepped closer.


    ¡°So¡­ can I ask? What is it you want? What¡¯s your goal when you get out of here? Because if you help me build what I¡¯m working toward¡­ then I¡¯ll do everything I can to help you get what you want too.¡±


    Dipter didn¡¯t know if any of this would work.


    But for once, he wasn¡¯t strategizing or calculating.


    He was just saying what was on his mind, truthfully. And maybe, just maybe, no one else had ever been brave, or dumb, enough to ask Hugo that one simple question.


    What do you want?


    Hugo finally spoke.


    His voice was softer than Dipter had imagined. Not deep, not monstrous. Just a kid¡¯s voice. A teenager¡¯s voice.


    Just like them.


    ¡°What I want?¡± Hugo said, barely above a whisper. Then his tone hardened.


    ¡°When I get out of here¡­ I want to take down the one who taught me this. The one who gave me this power. The one who showed me everything the world had to offer, and then abandoned me. Left me here to rot.¡±


    His hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white, veins popping once more.


    Dipter didn¡¯t flinch.


    ¡°Then¡­ I¡¯ll help you do that,¡± he said quietly.

 Chapter 157: Hercules’s Power

    Chapter 157: Hercules¡¯s Power


    High up in the mountain, Aron and his special forces teams were pushing through the forest in full search mode.


    The plan had been straightforward, three teams, triangle formation, each covering a section of the dense, wooded terrain. They were hunting for a single individual. A man known only by rumor.


    Hercules.


    The name alone was enough to make half the team uneasy.


    The search had been going steady, until one of the squads radioed in.


    They¡¯d found something. A cabin. Hidden in the forest.


    But minutes later, a scream broke through the channel.


    Then¡­ silence.


    No static. No follow-up.


    Just dead air.


    Knowing the exact coordinates of that team, Aron had immediately rerouted, alerting the remaining squad as they raced through the woods at full speed.


    ¡°I thought you said we were after a person!¡± one of the squad captains snapped, panting as they dodged trees and vaulted over roots.


    ¡°We are,¡± Aron replied flatly, not even winded. ¡°But if they were ordinary, do you think I would¡¯ve hired people like you?¡±


    The captain gritted his teeth but said nothing.


    And he wasn¡¯t the only one starting to worry. The squad members were remembering the rumors. The witness reports. The shredded thermal signatures. The bear.


    The massive, dead bear.


    That wasn¡¯t something you forgot.


    And now, they were starting to believe it all might actually be true.


    As they pressed deeper, the captain glanced sideways at Aron, really looked at him.


    That snob of a man¡­


    There was something strange about him.


    He¡¯s not just keeping up. He¡¯s leading. And through this terrain?


    The captain¡¯s legs were already starting to burn, and Aron hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat.


    We¡¯ve trained for this stuff. We¡¯ve run drills in every climate, every altitude. We¡¯re supposed to be the elite. But right now¡­ we¡¯re struggling to keep up with him.


    The realization hit harder than he expected.


    They finally reached the area.


    It didn¡¯t take long to find the first body.


    One of the mercenary men was slumped against the back of a thick tree trunk, his body limp, neck hanging forward at a crooked angle.


    The bark behind him was cracked, splintered inward as if something had slammed into it with incredible force.


    ¡°He¡¯s alive,¡± the captain said, crouching and checking the man¡¯s pulse. ¡°But barely. He¡¯s not waking up anytime soon.¡±


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    Aron crouched beside him, eyes scanning the damage.


    ¡°Was he thrown into the tree?¡± one of the squad members asked, stepping carefully around the scene. ¡°But¡­ look at the trunk. Part of it¡¯s actually broken.¡±


    ¡°How strong would someone have to be to do that to a tree?¡±


    No one answered. Because they were all starting to realize the same thing.


    If Hercules was here, then they weren¡¯t chasing a man. They were chasing a force of nature.


    The group had stopped running.


    They moved more cautiously now, every step deliberate, every sound around them amplified. They were close. They could feel it, somewhere up ahead, the cabin was waiting.


    That¡¯s when they found another body.


    This one was lying face-up on the forest floor, groaning weakly. Both legs were crushed, completely shattered at the bone.


    ¡°Who did this to you?¡± the captain asked, dropping to his knees beside the wounded man.


    The man¡¯s eyes fluttered, pain etched across every inch of his face. ¡°A man¡­ he got us all,¡± he gasped. ¡°None of it worked. The weapons, the gear¡­ nothing worked on him. He¡¯s not human¡­ he¡¯s a monster, ¡±


    He passed out mid-sentence, likely from the pain.


    The captain clenched his jaw, but Aron knelt beside the man, calmly examining the injury.


    ¡°Did you notice the fracture?¡± Aron said, almost too calmly. ¡°Look at where the bone is crushed, it¡¯s the shin. And only the shin.¡±


    ¡°What about it?¡± the captain snapped, still tense.


    ¡°It¡¯s been broken in the cleanest possible way. The damage is precise. Controlled. This wasn¡¯t done to kill him, it was done to stop him. Disable him. As gently as possible.¡±


    The captain¡¯s face twisted in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that¡±, he pointed at the mangled legs, ¡°is gentle? Have you lost your mind?¡±


    But Aron was already walking forward again.


    One of the soldiers stayed behind to administer emergency aid. He¡¯d catch up later. The rest of the squad moved on, stepping over roots and brushing through the thick underbrush with a new level of unease.


    And then they found more.


    One after another, mercenaries were discovered throughout the forest, some unconscious, others groaning. Bruised. Battered. But alive.


    Every single one of them. The pattern was impossible to ignore. No one had been killed.


    If they¡¯d been left in their condition for a few more hours, maybe that would¡¯ve changed. But for now¡­ every injured man was breathing. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And that made Aron think even harder.


    This wasn¡¯t a rampage. This was restraint.


    Whoever they were dealing with had chosen not to kill anyone.


    That level of control¡­ Aron narrowed his eyes as the group pressed on.


    To fight this many trained mercs and take them all down without a single death¡­ Max, I know you want this person to be your teacher. But I¡¯m starting to wonder if I can even get close enough to convince him.


    Then, shouting.


    Voices, not far off.


    ¡°GET HIM! GET HIM!¡± someone screamed in the distance.


    They heard the noise instantly, and they knew what it meant.


    Combat.


    The other squad had engaged.


    Without a word, Aron and his team rushed forward, weaving through the last stretch of forest until the trees thinned. The canopy opened, and just ahead, they saw it.


    A cabin. Large, rugged, built from thick logs and stone, clearly meant to survive the wild. And in front of it, chaos.


    Aron stepped out into the clearing just in time to see eight of the squad members surrounding a single man. Not just any man.


    He had to be close to seven feet tall, towering over the others. The entire upper half of his body was bare, revealing a physique sculpted by nature and hardened by something more brutal than any gym could offer. His skin was dark and tanned, sun-worn and scarred, stretched over broad shoulders and a massive chest.


    A wild, scruffy beard covered his face, grey streaking through it like weathered steel. And his hair, long, unkempt, and tangled, cascaded down his back, reaching the base of his spine.


    It looked like it had been growing for years.


    His eyes were the most unsettling part, narrow, sharp, almost square in shape. Focused. Not angry. Not frantic. Just precise. Deadly precise.


    The squad had formed a circular perimeter around him. They¡¯d already pulled their weapons, tazers, and had begun firing.


    Electric prongs shot out, slamming into the man¡¯s torso.


    Some didn¡¯t even pierce the skin. Others dug in, delivering maximum voltage.


    But he didn¡¯t flinch. Not even a twitch.


    Then, calmly, the man reached down, grabbed one of the wires connected to his chest, and yanked.


    The entire tazer gun was ripped from the squad member¡¯s hands. And before anyone could react, the man hurled it, straight into the soldier¡¯s face.


    CRACK.


    The weapon shattered on impact.


    ¡°The tazers aren¡¯t working,¡± the captain said, standing beside Aron, voice low and grim. ¡°That means we¡¯ll have to take him down the old-fashioned way.¡±


    One of the soldiers took the cue and rushed in, yelling as he charged.


    He didn¡¯t last a second.


    The man swung one arm across his chest, just one arm, and it hit the soldier like a truck. The force lifted the man completely off the ground and launched him backward into the forest, where he vanished into the shadows between the trees.


    The captain and the rest of the squad, still standing behind the line, froze in place, gulps audible, sweat visible.


    One man had been launched like a ragdoll with a single swing.


    ¡°Do you have a gun?¡± Aron asked, holding out his hand without turning his gaze.


    The captain blinked. ¡°We¡¯ve got sidearms that fire high-velocity rubber rounds. No lethal weapons. We¡¯re not authorized to use anything deadlier for a task like this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll be enough,¡± Aron said calmly.


    Something about the way he spoke, the stillness, the confidence, made the captain hesitate. Against his better judgment, he reached to his side, pulled his weapon, and handed it over.


    ¡°What are you planning to do?¡± he asked, voice dropping. ¡°The other squad¡¯s been unloading rubber rounds. They just bounce off him. This mission¡­ we can¡¯t win this.¡±


    Aron checked the gun, inspected the chamber, tested the weight.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing my duty,¡± he replied.


    He pulled back the slide and clicked it into place, eyes focused.


    ¡°My task, as the Silver Ranger.¡±

 Chapter 158: I Just Want To Talk about Your..

    Chapter 158: I Just Want To Talk about Your..


    The captain had always thought Aron was a little off. A screw loose. Too calm, too collected, like a man who didn¡¯t register danger the way normal people did.


    But now?


    Watching him charge straight in, running directly at a mountain of muscle that barely resembled a man?


    Yeah. No doubt about it. Aron was absolutely insane.


    They¡¯d already seen rubber bullets bounce off this guy¡¯s skin like foam pellets. Multiple tasers had fired, full contact, full voltage, and it had done nothing. Sure, every now and then you heard about someone resisting a taser, but not like this. Not all of them. Not every time.


    This wasn¡¯t resistance. It was immunity.


    The rest of the squad was trying to regroup, trying to fall back, anything to avoid being steamrolled.


    Then one of them pulled out a heavy-duty net launcher, a high-powered model designed to immobilize wild animals, even tigers. The steel mesh net was laced with tension lines, strong enough to crush someone if fired right.


    But before the man could pull the trigger, Hercules moved. Fast. Faster than anyone expected.


    He lunged forward, closing the distance in a blink, and grabbed the barrel of the launcher with one hand. His fingers squeezed, metal groaned and bent like tinfoil.


    Then, with his other hand, he raised an open palm. It wasn¡¯t a punch. It was a slap.


    But judging by the wind-up, the size of his hand, and the tension in his shoulders, it was a slap that could remove a head from a neck.


    The squad member winced, frozen in place, knowing full well this wasn¡¯t going to be an ordinary hit.


    And then,


    BANG.


    A sharp crack echoed through the clearing.


    Hercules stopped mid-swing. His eyes twitched. His arm jolted slightly off course, and the slap missed its mark entirely, swiping through nothing but air.


    Pain bloomed in his upper arm, deep in the joint. He turned his head, slow and steady. A man was approaching him at a confident jog, a handgun raised.


    Aron.


    ¡°My name is Aron!¡± he called out, his voice echoing through the trees. ¡°And I¡¯m here on behalf of a client. We¡¯re not your enemy. We wish to talk, calmly and peacefully, if that¡¯s possible!¡±


    But peace wasn¡¯t in the air.


    Not yet.


    As Aron drew closer, Hercules clenched his massive fist, pulled it back, and aimed to drive it through Aron¡¯s chest.


    But Aron was faster than they expected. He fired again. And again. And again. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Each shot hit precisely at the same point, right at the throat. Right on the Adam¡¯s apple. A cluster shot, perfectly aimed.


    Thud. Thud. Thud. Three hits in less than a second.


    Once again, Hercules¡¯ swing cut through nothing but air.


    In the same fluid motion, Aron dropped low and slid across the wet grass. Mud streaked his tailored suit, but he didn¡¯t slow down. He dove straight between Hercules¡¯ legs and emerged cleanly on the other side.


    Mid-slide, he popped the magazine from his pistol, slammed in a fresh one, and had the gun raised and leveled right at Hercules¡¯ face before his feet even found the ground again.


    ¡°What the, !?¡± the captain barked. ¡°When did he take my ammo belt? I didn¡¯t even feel it leave my waist!¡±


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    ¡°Sir,¡± one of the squad members said, eyes wide. ¡°You saw those shots. Those moves. That¡¯s not a civilian. He¡¯s not normal.¡±


    No one could deny it anymore.


    Aron was not an ordinary man.


    ¡°Your client wants to see me?¡± Hercules asked, his gravelly voice rumbling as his sharp eyes locked onto Aron. ¡°Then why aren¡¯t they here themselves? And what kind of greeting is this, bringing a damn army to my doorstep?¡±


    He didn¡¯t wait for a response.


    With a roar, Hercules surged forward.


    Aron stood his ground, firing clean shots, aiming for the throat again, but this time Hercules raised his massive hand and blocked the bullets mid-run, the rounds thudding uselessly against his palm.


    Aron backpedaled, quick and light on his feet, still firing. He changed aim, two rapid shots toward the knee, hoping to buckle his target. But Hercules kept coming, relentless.


    A living battering ram.


    They broke through the edge of the forest. Trees flanked the path now, and Hercules threw a wild punch.


    Aron ducked low.


    The punch smashed through the air and slammed into a thick trunk, ripping a chunk out the size of a cannonball.


    Aron weaved, dodged, slid behind another tree, then peeked out just enough to fire another shot.


    ¡°I understand we¡¯ve invaded your personal space!¡± Aron shouted between movements, breath tight but steady. ¡°I get that this looks bad, but I need you to listen!¡±


    He kept ducking, weaving between trees, using the terrain to slow down the monster of a man chasing him.


    This wasn¡¯t a field anymore. It was a maze.


    And in a maze, speed and skill could hold up against brute strength, at least for a while.


    ¡°We were only worried about our own men¡¯s safety, that¡¯s why we reacted the way we did!¡± Aron shouted, his voice strained as he dove and rolled, dodging yet another devastating blow. ¡°Just give me a moment to talk!¡±


    Behind him, the sound of splintering wood cracked like thunder. He glanced back.


    Hercules had clapped two trees together, crushing their trunks like cardboard. The splinters rained down like shards of glass.


    That wasn¡¯t brute strength. That was something else entirely. Something beyond human.


    Aron¡¯s stun baton was useless, and tasers? Laughable. Rubber bullets were his only option, but even those had no effect unless they hit just the right spot.


    ¡°Do you think I live out here because I want visitors like you?¡± Hercules growled. ¡°Your request is denied. Keep pushing, and you¡¯ll see what happens when I lose patience.¡±


    He swung again, fast.


    The punch missed Aron by inches. Instinct kicked in. He planted a foot on Hercules¡¯ knee, springboarded off it, and drove his own knee straight into Hercules¡¯ chin, snapping the man¡¯s jaw shut with a brutal jolt.


    Aron landed in a crouch, flipped backward, reloaded his gun mid-motion, and kept breathing, ragged but still steady.


    From the edge of the field, the soldiers were frozen in awe. They had moved into position, ready to extract Aron at the first sign of real injury¡­ but now?


    He wasn¡¯t just holding his own.


    Every move Aron made had purpose. He used the forest like a shield, like a trap. He was redirecting Hercules¡¯ power, not absorbing it.


    And he hit him. A clean, calculated strike.


    ¡°They¡¯re both monsters¡­¡± the captain muttered, barely believing what he was seeing. ¡°But one of them¡¯s clearly the bigger monster.¡±


    ¡°I apologize for hitting you,¡± Aron called out, chest rising and falling. ¡°But you left me no choice. Now will you listen?¡±


    Hercules didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, he stepped toward a thick oak, wrapped both arms around it, and hugged it tight. There was a groaning sound, deep and violent, as roots snapped from the earth like bones breaking.


    The ground trembled. Then Hercules lifted the entire tree clean out of the soil.


    ¡°Here¡¯s my answer.¡±

 Chapter 159: Your New Student

    Chapter 159: Your New Student


    So far, Aron had done a good job dodging Hercules¡¯ strikes, but he knew the truth.


    One clean hit from that monster, and it was over. Bones shattered. Game finished.


    He had never meant to strike Hercules. But when survival instincts kicked in, hesitation vanished. His body reacted on its own.


    Now, it looked like that single blow had enraged the beast even more.


    Because Hercules was holding an entire tree in his hands.


    ¡°If I get hit by that¡­¡± Aron¡¯s breath caught. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can survive it.¡±


    No time to hesitate.


    With a roar, Hercules swung the massive trunk like a baseball bat. The whoosh of the wind cutting through air sounded like a storm tearing through the woods.


    The swing was low, smart. There was no room for Aron to slide under it like before, and the trunk was far too thick to vault over.


    One option.


    Aron turned, sprinted straight toward a tree ahead, ran up its trunk, and launched himself into the air.


    The moment his feet left the bark, Hercules¡¯ weapon tore through the forest. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    CRACK! CRASH!


    Trees splintered. Wood exploded. Even the one Aron had used as his springboard was demolished in a blink. The whole area behind him looked like a natural disaster had passed through.


    He landed in a crouch, rolled, and turned to see the aftermath.


    The forest was torn to pieces. Fallen trees stacked on each other like matchsticks. Bark and debris littered the ground like confetti from chaos.


    And the tree Hercules had used? Broken clean in half.


    From behind the treeline, the squad leader screamed into the wreckage.


    ¡°Aron, what the hell are you doing?! This isn¡¯t a fight we can win! He¡¯s not worth dying for!¡±


    Right then, Aron calmly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°But to me, it is,¡± he said, straightening his tie like he wasn¡¯t staring down a force of nature.


    Even Hercules paused. For a brief second, he looked surprised that Aron had found a way to survive that.


    ¡°You¡¯ve used up all your luck,¡± Hercules said. ¡°I warned you. Told you to walk away.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°But clearly¡­ you came here with your own agenda.¡±


    Then, something began to change.


    Hercules stretched out his fingers. Muscles in his forearms twitched, then tightened. The veins bulged like cables under his skin. His limbs looked like they were compacting, but also somehow becoming denser, like stone wrapped in skin.


    His calves hardened next, the tension so intense they looked chiseled out of granite.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while,¡± Hercules muttered. ¡°Since someone like you made me do this.¡±


    Aron had no idea what was coming next, but he didn¡¯t flinch. He remembered why he was here. Who entrusted this mission to him.


    ¡°Captain!¡± one of the soldiers called out. ¡°Are we just going to let him die out there?!¡±


    The order came fast. ¡°Fire! Unload everything we¡¯ve got!¡±


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    The squad opened fire, rubber bullets rained down like hail. They slammed against Hercules¡¯ sides¡­ and bounced off like pebbles on armor. No recoil. No impact. Not even a mark.


    Nothing.


    The men started to look to see if there was anything else they had one them, but they had already used nearly all items at their disposal when they first met him. Never had they been in this situation before, where one person had pushed their backs so far up against the wall.


    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ done for,¡± the captain whispered, eyes wide. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more we can do.¡±


    In the middle of it all, Aron stood tall.


    ¡°I told you!¡± he shouted. ¡°My client sent me here. All of us. I didn¡¯t believe it at first, didn¡¯t think you were real. But now I get it.¡±


    He pointed the gun down.


    ¡°I get why someone like Max wants to learn from someone like you.¡±


    ¡°My client needs you. Please, just hear me out,¡± Aron pleaded, taking a step forward. ¡°The man has incredible wealth, enough to hire every single person here. He can compensate you handsomely for your time, for your trouble.¡±


    The muscles across Hercules¡¯ body continued to tense, rippling with controlled power, veins slightly bulging under the strain.


    ¡°Money¡¯s never been an issue for me,¡± Hercules replied coldly. ¡°All I want is to be left alone. Tell your client I¡¯m not interested¡­ and say it fast, if you want a chance to survive this.¡±


    Aron¡¯s breath hitched. He could see it, Hercules was about to launch himself at him like a missile. But just before panic could take over, Max¡¯s voice echoed in his mind. The words. The words he said might work.


    ¡°My client¡­¡± Aron began again, louder this time, standing firm. ¡°He was sent an invitation! He said that you would have received one too.¡±


    Hercules froze for a fraction of a second, his glare sharp.


    ¡°He wants you to teach him,¡± Aron continued quickly. ¡°To help him.¡±


    ¡°HAHAHA!¡± Hercules burst into laughter, his voice shaking the air around them. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve heard that one before. Of course they want me to teach them. And now they even claim to have an invitation? No wonder someone like you is standing by their side. But I¡¯m not interested.¡±


    With a thunderous crack, Hercules kicked off the ground. A burst of dirt exploded beneath his feet, scattering in all directions. Moments ago, he had displayed inhuman strength, now it was inhuman speed that hurled him toward Aron like a cannonball.


    ¡°He was sent an invitation!¡± Aron shouted, raising his arms defensively. ¡°He wants you to teach him because¡­ he¡¯s only a student!¡±


    A fierce gust of wind surged past him, blowing Aron¡¯s hair back and nearly knocking his glasses off his face. He didn¡¯t blink. He had been trained not to, so even as the force tried to rattle him, he held his ground and stared forward.


    And there it was.


    A fist, unmoving, mere inches from his face.


    ¡°An invitation¡­¡± Hercules muttered, his voice low now, thoughtful. ¡°Sent to a mere student? ¡­Who is your client?¡±