From Bullets To Billions Chapter 638 - 2 Billion Man (Part 2)

Despite the devastating destruction of his exoskeleton, Ramon refused to back down. He lingered there, swaying unsteadily, his eyes gleaming with raw, frenzied fixation—the expression of a man utterly denying that his prized invention had let him down. It seemed he was convinced deep down that triumph remained within reach regardless of the price, desperately grasping at the slim possibility that just one fortunate blow would flip the battle back his way.

The truth facing the scientist was far more dire. The power cores in both his arms lay ruined, their inner mechanisms smashed to bits. His chest armor, formerly the unyielding heart of his protection, had been smashed apart by Max’s unyielding strikes, leaving just the leg segments of the exoskeleton still working. Depending only on those leg mechanisms for his assaults now made Ramon’s actions painfully foreseeable. Each punch or kick he unleashed traced a stiff, robotic trajectory that Max spotted well in advance.

’Boosting my abilities evened our raw power,’ Max pondered, his breaths even as he observed Ramon’s wild flailing. ’Once it boiled down to that, the clash hinged on real combat know-how and technique. Every move I’ve mimicked from the skilled foes I’ve battled before... they’ve forged me into a superior combatant compared to my former self. And it’s obvious I outmatch Ramon by a wide margin.’

Max dodged a frantic, sweeping kick with ease, then retaliated with pinpoint accuracy. His leg whipped into a crushing low strike, slamming Ramon’s mechanical brace with full force. Fresh sparks erupted skyward, mingled with puffs of bitter black fumes. At this point, only a single exoskeleton part remained active on Ramon’s frame.

’Ramon echoes the man I once was in many respects,’ Max reflected, sensing a flicker of sympathy for his foe. ’He must possess real determination, true toughness, to rise as leader of the Gilt Rats in this ruthless world. Clearly, he’s a capable fighter on his own merits, yet he pales beside the elite talents in his crew. Without this exoskeleton, taking him down would be effortless.’

Max adjusted his footing, bracing for the decisive moment. ’That exoskeleton would’ve served someone else in his gang far better—someone with the skill to harness its velocity. When I compare him to my past self, it’s spot on: I climbed through the might of my allies, not my own raw power. And that’s precisely why you’re defeated today.’

With those thoughts voiced, Max thrust his leg ahead once more, delivering a brutal low kick to the opposite side. A sharp metallic crack rang out, followed by a wheeze of venting gas, as the final exoskeleton component shattered. Even so, Ramon appeared oblivious to his lost edge. He lunged ahead recklessly until a powerful leg smashed into his chest, hurling him airborne. He slammed onto the floor, skidding over the sleek surface before halting, wheezing for breath.

This marked the first instance in the bout where Ramon’s unshielded flesh absorbed the full savage force of Max’s kick, unmitigated by any protection. Max offered no reprieve. He strode forward swiftly, raised his foot, and crushed down on Ramon’s ankle with a gruesome snap that splintered bone.

"ARGHH!" Ramon howled, his features twisting in torment as he gripped his ruined leg.

"I can’t have you escaping," Max stated icily, gazing at his vanquished opponent. "We might have stirred up plenty of chaos for your Gilt Rats, but we never struck at you directly like this. We just handled business, competing straight-up in the markets, and we always came out ahead. Losing the cash got under your skin."

Max’s gaze sharpened. "When that failed, you chose to throw punches. You relied on this knockoff tech to seize what you couldn’t win legitimately, but you lost anyway. All that’s coming your way now is on you."

Max raised his leg once more and brought it down on the remaining ankle, shattering it like the first. He had to make sure the danger was fully contained. Standing over him, Max couldn’t shake thoughts of the night’s toll. He dreaded how many from the Billion Bloodline crew might have suffered in this huge melee.

Allies faced brutal thrashings, shattered bones, and possibly lethal wounds. Some might have perished this very night, all due to one man's egotistical choice to transform a business feud into outright warfare.

"Are you one of them too?" Ramon gasped, staring up at Max with terror blended with curiosity. "Are you one of those Invitation freaks?"

"You know about it then?" Max questioned, his curiosity briefly sparked. "But before you assume defeat by a superior foe, let me clarify: I am not. I've never gotten an invitation myself."

Max spoke the truth—at least in this life, no such letter had ever reached him.

"I just know of it," Max stated plainly.

Ramon chuckled dryly to himself, the sound raspy and hacking. "Then I truly was the fool. Losing to a nobody like you means I'd have had zero chance even with the exoskeletons against them." He tilted his head to gaze at Max, a bitter smirk twisting his lips. "But don't think it's finished just because you beat me. Others wearing exoskeletons are still battling out there. You could lose it all tonight."

The moment Ramon uttered those words, heavy breaths and gasps echoed from the arena's entrance. Max whipped his head around to spot familiar shapes stepping from the shadows.

The Rangers, Na, and Darno had arrived. Battered and dusted from their fierce fights, they stood tall. They'd hurried over, convinced Max still required aid to seal the deal.

"I told you he'd be fine," Joe declared, wiping blood from his forehead and offering Max a fatigued thumbs-up.