From Bullets To Billions Chapter 2 2: The Richest Family

While Maximus and his kin seemed plagued by a destiny of relentless calamity, the Stern clan resided at the polar opposite of fate, blessed with a staggering, almost impossible level of fortune. Their lineage traced back through generations, anchored firmly to the history of a specific tract of land they held—a modest plot that just so happened to contain a natural spring.

Many years prior, they had offloaded this land and its invaluable spring to a corporation. This deal didn't just grant them a massive upfront payment, but also secured lifelong royalties on every bottle of water sold. The Stern Spring Water label quickly ascended to national prominence, a stipulation meticulously codified into their lucrative settlement.

However, this immense triumph was merely the bedrock of their prosperity. Utilizing the vast capital generated by the spring, the Sterns aggressively entered the tech sector, serving as angel investors for promising startups. Almost every project they touched exploded in value, causing their wealth to compound continuously and exponentially.

Soon, the Stern Family established their very own venture capital firm, wholly focused on identifying and backing companies with immense growth potential. Their investment strategy appeared infallible, and their riches escalated dramatically year upon year. In time, their reach extended far beyond technology. They moved into gaming, healthcare, pharmaceuticals, life insurance, and entertainment—any industry that promised massive margins, the Sterns had an interest in.

At this point, the Stern Family was not merely one of the wealthiest clans in the nation; they were arguably among the most formidable, wielding influence across virtually every profitable sector. Their conglomerate reached across the globe, exerting control over markets, political landscapes, and the tides of public opinion.

Maximus’s head spun as he lay motionless in his hospital bed. It cannot be… Not that Stern family. Stern is a redundant name, surely? he thought with a desperate attempt to calm his racing heart.

Hours had passed since he regained consciousness, yet he had not dared to fully open his eyes. Although his fingers twitched with a surge of newfound vigor and he knew he could open his eyes at any moment, the alien voices referring to him as “Max Stern” had filled him with dread. Thus, he remained still, waiting patiently until the room was devoid of sound.

Once the voices finally retreated, he cracked one eye open to take in his surroundings. Pristine white walls enveloped him, adorned with intricate, artistic patterns like flowing waves. Even the food trays in his vicinity were arranged with such precision they resembled courses from a Michelin-starred establishment.

Honestly, do they think lavish rooms aid in recovery? The sheer waste on which the wealthy squander their money, Maximus scoffed internally.

Mustering his energy, he swung his legs off the mattress; his limbs felt weak and trembled under his own weight as he stood. Despite his frail condition, he had pressing matters to address. Fortunately, the extravagant hospital suite included a private lavatory—which was exactly where he needed to go.

He stepped inside, heaving a sigh of relief as he finally emptied his bladder. “Ahh,” he exhaled softly, “I don’t think there is anything better in this world than this.”

Upon finishing, he immediately moved to his next vital objective. Approaching the mirror, he inspected his reflection with visible trepidation. His fingers reached out to tug at his own cheek, confirming his worst fears.

This is genuine. This is absolutely, undeniably real. I have ended up in another person’s body.

Every lingering doubt vanished, leaving him shocked and bewildered. Based on the persistent sting, this was certainly no dream.

How could this have transpired? Did some mystical force grant my dying wish? Was there a magic entity lurking in that lake? The concept of reincarnation sparked in his mind. It was a notion vaguely familiar from his mother’s side of the family, though usually, reincarnation implied returning as something else or starting over without one’s past memories. Yet, Maximus recalled everything with terrifying clarity, especially the vicious betrayal that had concluded his former life.

Staring back at him in the mirror was the unfamiliar face of a teenager, likely eighteen years old. The youth possessed striking features: a razor-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a nose that was perfectly symmetrical, neither too prominent nor too refined. Despite the confusion, Maximus found himself begrudgingly impressed by his new looks.

Yet, there were significant downsides. The body was frail, far too slight. It appeared to weigh barely sixty-five kilos, despite being six feet tall. Just skin and bone, he assessed critically.

His hair, too, struck him as odd. It was thick and silky, brushing against his eyebrows, but styled in a clunky bowl cut. Maximus preferred a more sophisticated aesthetic, swept back neatly with a natural fringe.

What bothered him most, however, was the color. It was vibrantly red.

“Why on earth is this kid’s hair bright red?” he muttered in sheer disbelief. “Is this linked to my lucky red underwear? Is that the reason I survived and ended up in this vessel?”

He shook his head, instantly rejecting such ridiculous thoughts, yet he could not ignore the sheer strangeness of his predicament.

As he scrutinized himself further, he noticed something ominous. Gently pulling aside his white hospital gown, Maximus unveiled a series of dark bruises scattered across his torso. When he pressed one with a tentative finger, he recoiled sharply.

“Ah! Damn, that stings,” he hissed.

The marks varied in scale and pigment, clear evidence of repeated and deliberate cruelty. Someone had evidently been careful to avoid exposed areas like his face or forearms, hiding the abuse beneath his clothing.

“Everyone carries their own burdens,” Maximus murmured, resolutely shoving these distressing findings to the back of his mind. “I need to center my focus on discerning what is happening here.”

With newfound resolve, he walked to the door, opening it only to freeze mid-stride. Standing directly in front was a man dressed sharply in an immaculate black suit, his dark hair parted and styled with precision. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, eyeing Maximus with intense scrutiny.

“So,” the man initiated, his voice calm yet carry a faint weight of intimidation, “it appears you have been feigning sleep until the room was clear.”

Caught entirely off guard, Maximus hesitated. He had intended to gather information discreetly, needing to ascertain the date, his environment, and his identity. Instead, he was now confronted by someone who clearly shared intimacy with his new identity.

“Err, uh,” Maximus stammered, his brain searching for a plausible excuse. “The truth is… the truth is, I have amnesia!”

The man’s eyebrow arched in skepticism. “Amnesia?” he echoed, sounding utterly unimpressed.

Maximus nodded urgently, clinging to his spur-of-the-moment lie. “Yes, amnesia. Honestly, I’m terrified. I have no idea who I am or what has occurred. I don’t even recognize you!”

The man released a heavy sigh, adjusting his glasses in evident frustration. “If you are being truthful, this could prove catastrophic,” he admitted with reluctance. “Truly catastrophic indeed.”

Maintaining his composure, he introduced himself formally. “My name is Aron Heart,” he explained, gesturing to his chest. “I have served as your personal bodyguard for several years, always standing by your side when circumstances required it.”

A personal bodyguard? Maximus’s confusion only deepened. Why would anyone require a personal guard?

“I assume, provided you truly have suffered memory loss,” Aron continued, seemingly intuition picking up on Maximus’s internal conflict, “you are questioning exactly why someone in your position requires such protection.”

Maximus offered a cautious nod, desperate for clarity yet cautious not to reveal his ignorance any further.

“Because,” Aron stated slowly and distinctly, “you are Max Stern, the youngest heir to the Stern Family.”

As those words hit his ears, Maximus felt his heart hammer against his ribs. His gut instinct had been correct. I was right, he thought, feeling both shaken and overwhelmed. It really is THAT Stern family.