From Bullets To Billions Chapter 659: Not The Same Again

Surveying the bare, vacant classroom, Max swiftly ascertained their solitude. It was the quiet period between classes, a fleeting interlude where corridors typically teemed with life, but ancillary rooms remained deserted. He recognized that any moment, a fresh influx of students might surge in to occupy their seats for the ensuing hour, but for the present, the stillness was his advantage.

’Very well, I can resolve this swiftly,’ Max mused, his thoughts transitioning to a sharp, strategic mode. ’It's fortunate there are no onlookers for now. I shall simply overpower him to the extent that he abandons any thought of returning to his soccer companions. My objective is to instill a fear of my retribution that surpasses any apprehension he feels towards Donto or the upperclassmen.’

The entire predicament evoked a profound sense of déjà vu in Max. It starkly mirrored his initial days after inheriting this body, a period fraught with continuous conflict, necessitating his navigation of a world dominated by bullies and a rigid physical hierarchy.

However, a pair of crucial distinctions marked the present circumstances. Firstly, he now wielded the immense, unyielding power essential to confront any adversary without a trace of apprehension, irrespective of their stature or rank. Secondly, he had learned invaluable lessons from past oversights. He understood that delaying intervention could precipitate dire repercussions later on. Now, possessing the capacity to preempt severe injustices before their full realization, he was disinclined to passively observe unpleasant events unfolding before him.

It appeared Sylan was poised for a confrontation, and Max found a peculiar sense of anticipation building within him. It had been a considerable duration since he had the opportunity to administer a thorough, unbridled drubbing to an individual truly deserving of it.

A faint, pained murmur emanated from behind Max, originating from the room’s sole other occupant. Jono’s eyelids fluttered open, his gaze clouded with a mixture of bewilderment and persistent agony.

"What the… is that Max? And Sylan… right, I recall," Jono whispered, the assaults at the podium striking him with physical force. He recalled the indignity of being utilized as a conduit for the seniors' message, and he remembered the unexpected feeling of Max lifting him from the ground. In that instant, a wave of thankfulness washed over him that someone had indeed attempted to intervene, but this was quickly eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of culpability. He had inadvertently drawn an innocent bystander into his ordeal.

’Well, a single witness to this entire affair is not insurmountable,’ Max reflected, casting a glance at Jono. ’I can ensure his discretion.’

As if his unspoken thoughts summoned the disruption, the door violently swung inward with a resounding crash. Max’s gaze sharpened as Talia entered, her complexion pale, yet her expression resolute with a desperate bravery.

"Sylan!" Talia’s voice resonated off the chalkboards. "Is this truly necessary? You have already inflicted serious harm upon one student. Do you not believe you have overstepped significantly? There are numerous witnesses who observed your actions at the podium… and… and if you do not cease this immediately, I will report this to the principal and the authorities!"

A prominent vein on Sylan’s forehead pulsed erratically, darkening to an angry, purplish hue. He emitted a sharp, derisive burst of laughter.

"Why is this year’s freshman cohort populated by such utter fools?" Sylan scoffed, directing his predatory stare towards her. "Do you genuinely suppose a situation like this has not transpired within these walls countless times? And now you presume to threaten me with law enforcement? Observe, the legal system presents a curious dichotomy when confronted with conflicting public declarations."

Sylan advanced towards her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. "The instant skepticism takes root, when a portion of the witnesses adamantly assert others are fabricating falsehoods, the police abandon their investigation. We command the numbers, freshman. We possess the influence. And for squandering my time and provoking my displeasure, I deem you the primary recipient deserving of my attention!"

With an abrupt, vicious swiftness, Sylan pivoted, raising his fist and unleashing a formidable blow directly towards Talia’s face.

Jono, observing from his defeated posture, was overcome by a surge of self-reproach. He despised his own frailty, his brokenness, that a woman endeavoring to assist was on the verge of being assaulted directly before him. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impending sound of impact.

But as Sylan’s punch descended, his arm abruptly ceased its motion mid-air. It appeared as though he had collided with an unseen, unyielding barrier.

Upon inspecting his arm, Sylan’s eyes widened in incredulity. His wrist was ensnared in a grip of unyielding strength, and despite the full momentum of his athletic build, he could not advance his hand even a fraction of an inch.

"What is this infernal hold?" Sylan thought, his shoulder straining under the immense pressure. He glanced behind him and beheld Max, his visage as placid and unmoving as a frozen lake.