From Bullets To Billions Chapter 607: The Heavy Hitters

Ramon was utterly fed up with the Billion Bloodline group consistently slipping through his fingers. Every time the Syndicate launched a strike, Max’s lackeys managed to exceed his corporate projections, making him look ineffective in the shadows of the underworld.

Even now, despite spearheading a massive, multi-gang siege, the sheer difficulty of neutralizing an isolated faction trapped in a single structure exceeded his expectations. Standing in the hollowed-out courtyard, he observed the grim reality that had claimed the Rejected Corps and the Chalkline Boys.

Ignoring the climbing death toll, he had arrived today backed by the full financial and military might of the Gilt Rats. He anticipated such stubborn resistance, and this violent siege served as the ideal, live-fire arena to stress-test his expensive, prototype combat exoskeletons in the chaos of close-quarters gang warfare.

Moving boldly from the vanguard, Ramon and Darius strode shoulder-to-shoulder toward the shattered Fortis lobby. As the remaining syndicate members and rival Bloodline defenders caught sight of them, they scrambled to clear a path. The grunts were well aware of the volatility these two bosses showcased when crossed.

Yet, observing the enemy leadership walking openly, there were naturally those brave defenders who felt confident enough in their own prowess to initiate a frontline engagement.

A Bloodline fighter named Rick—revered for his history as a fearsome heavy hitter during his youth—broke formation and charged directly at the pair.

He let out a guttural roar, unleashing a ferocious haymaker directed toward the head of a towering figure in a white lab coat flanking Ramon.

"Do you wealthy scum think we'll just bow down and let you march through our front door?" Rick bellowed.

Bracing his wrist for support, he channeled his entire body weight into the strike.

As his fist neared the man's face, the enforcer in the lab coat simply extended a mechanical, hydraulic-assisted hand. Without a stutter in his pace, he caught Rick’s fist, halting the momentum with a sickening fracture of bone.

"What the... you did not even move!" Rick gasped, his face draining of color as the mechanical grip pulverized his knuckles. "What kind of freakish monster are you?"

Before Rick could retreat or react, the lab-coated enforcer retaliated. He delivered a brutal, hydraulic-boosted strike directly into Rick’s gut.

The impact resembled a collision with a speeding semi-truck. Rick was propelled backward, plowing through a group of nearby Bloodline defenders holding the lobby doors like pins in a bowling alley.

He collapsed onto the marble floor, gasping for air as his crushed lungs struggled to expand. Miraculously, he remained conscious, though the damage guaranteed he would be out of the fight for far longer than a few minutes.

If that force had struck a weaker member, Rick suspected the outcome would have been immediate death.

This display of raw, brutal efficiency served as an ominous warning to any defender considering an assault on the command circle. Despite the dread, many loyalists gripped their weapons, eyeing a swarm tactic.

That was until a sharp, encrypted directive broadcasted across all handheld radios and earpieces.

"Stand down! I repeat, everyone stand down!" Vivian’s voice cut through the noise with ironclad authority. "Clear a path for the command group! Dying to stop these heavy hitters is a tactical error! Focus on the regular thugs in front of you!"

While Stephen fought for survival near the barricades, he stole a glance at Ramon, Darius, and the mechanical terrors as they strolled casually into the reception area.

Stephen thought with a bitter sneer as he dove to the side.

A heartbeat later, a crumpled car door wielded by Jett slammed into the concrete where Stephen had been standing.

The group moved through the reception with total indifference to the fierce skirmishes unfolding around them. They prioritized the path forward, following Vivian’s directive to conserve strength.

This chilling level of control allowed Ramon and his metallic cohorts to ascend the main staircase unopposed, mirroring the bloody vertical advance Skull had taken earlier.

Ramon kept his cold gaze fixed on a single objective: eliminating the leader of this insignificant faction. He pressed onward, the heavy hydraulic rhythm of his bodyguards echoing against the staircase walls.

Upon breaching the barricades of the upper floors, they arrived at the expansive Showcase Room.

It was a pristine, high-tech chamber once used to demonstrate Fortis’s prestige to elite corporate clients to justify their military-grade security prices.

As they entered, the group stopped, startled by the level of carnage. Dozens of Gilt Rat and Black Hound members lay motionless and broken across the plush carpeting.

Standing among the fallen, barely winded, was Na.

"Ah... it is number one, the Altered powerhouse," Ramon remarked, adjusting his spectacles while analyzing the Ranger. He never paused his stride. "One of you, finish him. The rest of us move on."

Ramon continued toward the exit with Darius by his side.

Na, seeing the arrogant command group treat him like a minor obstacle, growled. He snatched up a heavy marble podium piece, formerly a display for a tactical baton.

With a surge of Altered strength, Na hurled the stone block at the intruders.

Before it could connect, one of the lab-coated giants stepped forward. He caught the massive marble weight with both mechanical hands, the hydraulic servos whining as he absorbed the kinetic force, nullifying the attack.

"Failure is an unacceptable outcome today," Ramon stated icily as they moved toward the next stairwell.

"So, you are one of those lackeys in the new exoskeletons?" Na said, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward to face his new adversary. "Then it is my pleasure to dismantle every single one of you."

The emotionless enforcer remained silent. He simply hurled the marble podium back at Na like a projectile.

Na held his ground, shifting his stance to deliver a powerful punch. His fist connected with the stone, shattering it into fragments and filling the air with concrete dust.

Na smirked through the settling haze. "This will be a satisfying test."