From Bullets To Billions Chapter 219: Bite The Hand

The name might not have meant much to Aron. To him, it was just another name on a list, another gang he’d found during his digging.

But to Max, it meant everything.

It was one of the exact guesses he’d already had running through his mind.

Max clenched his fist by his side, his jaw tight.

A sickening swirl of guilt hit him. For a brief moment, Max wondered,

He was smaller than Jay, and Jay had shoved him out of the way. But Max had the vow. His special ability improved his healing. He have survived.

But Jay didn’t.

And now he was gone.

"What do you want me to do, Max?" Aron asked, his tone calm but cold. "I can lead a team personally. Uproot the Chalkline Boys completely. Hire whoever we need. Get rid of them before they ever get the chance to do something like this again."

Aron stepped forward, his voice dipped with restrained anger.

"And I’ll make sure to bring you the man’s head. On a platter."

Max didn’t doubt he meant it. Aron was deadly serious, and angry. But this wasn’t a job for someone else. Not this time.

"No," Max replied flatly. "If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. But this... this is something I need to do myself."

He turned away from them.

"If you could handle everything regarding Jay... that’s all I need from you right now. I just... I need to head to the bathroom."

Max walked off, choosing the restroom farthest from the reception area, where there’d be fewer people. He needed to breathe. To think. And to not fall apart.

Sure, Aron could’ve ended the Chalkline Boys with the amount of money and power Max now had access to. Especially with the state they were currently in, already weakened from their ongoing war. They were vulnerable.

But it would raise questions.

The Rejected Corps would notice. The other groups in Notting Hill City would notice. And this, this was personal now.

Max needed to handle it .

Inside the bathroom, Max splashed cold water on his face. Again. And again. The sting helped him think straight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone buzzing. An incoming call.

It was from the Rejected Corps.

Max hesitated... but answered. His emotions were high, his mind clouded, but something inside urged him to hear what they had to say.

"This is Na from the Rejected Corps," the voice came through. "You might be wondering why I’m calling you at this time of night."

Max looked at the screen. 1:03 a.m. They had been at the hospital for hours. It was already tomorrow.

"We got word someone from your school was hurt," Na continued. "We were checking to see if you were okay."

"Checking to see if I’m okay?" Max repeated slowly, almost mocking the words as he spoke them.

"We had reason to believe the Chalkline Boys were targeting you," Na said. "The fact that you picked up the call means you’re still alive. Just be careful out there."

Max’s fingers gripped the phone tighter.

"Wait!" he shouted.

This was it.

The Chalkline Boys were too big for him to hit alone. He knew he’d face the same issue if he ever tried to go after the Rejected Corps. But the two were at war already.

This was his chance.

He was technically a member of the Rejected Corps. An acting member. So couldn’t they help him get payback?

"That accident you heard about," Max said, his voice filled with rage. "It the Chalkline Boys. It was meant for me. But one of my friends, Jay, he was hit instead. And now he’s dead!"

He practically yelled into the phone now, shaking.

"The Chalkline Boys tried to take my life, and they got my friend instead. Give me a team. Anything! Let me go after them. I’ll take them out for you!"

There was a long pause on the other end.

And then came the cold, sharp response.

"Do attack the Chalkline Boys on your own," Na said. "And no, we will not be providing you with a team."

Max’s chest froze.

"You’re not in a position to lead a team. Not even close to requesting one," Na continued, his voice like ice. "There’s a reason we do things the way we do. We don’t risk our men in a direct war just because lost someone, especially someone who wasn’t even part of the Rejected Corps."

Max’s hand trembled, his jaw locking.

His grip on the phone tightened until cracks started to form in the glass.

"You say I’m part of your group," Max seethed. "But when one of people gets killed, you do nothing? You won’t even help me make it right?"

He breathed heavily.

"Then what’s the point of being part of a shitty group like yours? Screw you."

Max hung up and stared into the mirror, his chest rising and falling in angry waves. His reflection looked nothing like a leader. Just a kid on the verge of breaking.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the call, Na had the phone on loudspeaker. Chrono was sitting at his desk, listening intently.

"That kid doesn’t know his place," Chrono snapped. "Thinking he can call the shots like that?"

He stood up, pacing now.

"We need to remind him, "

Chrono grabbed his own phone.

"Contact the Blackhounds," he ordered. "Tell them we’ve got a situation. And while you’re at it, call . I want to do some digging."