Chapter 203: Target Audience
Running a gang was more similar to running a business than most people thought.
The members? They were practically full-time employees, individuals you had to manage, keep loyal, motivate, and protect. You had to worry about their pay, what to do if they got injured, and whether there would be enough money when a situation turned dangerous, or a deal needed to go down fast.
Max hadn’t really considered all these aspects at first. But now that he was in charge again, it became obvious.
In truth, much of what he had done to support and expand the White Tiger Gang in his past life was no different from what any startup founder might do to build a company from scratch.
The only difference now?
Max wasn’t just armed with knowledge and experience, he had something far more dangerous: capital .
He had access to more seed money than most entrepreneurs could ever dream of. And since his Vow was tied directly to money, he was paying closer attention to it than ever before.
Max turned to his friends, his tone suddenly businesslike. "Let me ask you something. How many schoolkids do you think live in Brinhurst alone?"
Joe tilted his head and thought for a second. "Um... I don’t know. Like, six thousand?"
Jay frowned. "That seems a bit low, especially if we’re counting all students, not just high schoolers. Maybe twenty thousand?"
Max shook his head, a glimmer in his eye. "Wrong. Both of you are way off. The actual number is sixty thousand students. That includes primary school, middle school, and high school. And those sixty thousand students... they’re exactly who I’m targeting."
Jay’s eyebrows lifted. "Sixty thousand?"
"Wait, wait..." Joe’s eyes widened. "We have control over every high school in Brinhurst now, right? If all of them were to buy the Billion Bloodline merch, and maybe even join the gyms..."
He trailed off, almost drooling at the thought.
Max smiled. "Exactly. But even that’s thinking too small."
Joe blinked. "Huh?"
"Right now, only the delinquents are buying the uniforms and joining the gyms," Max explained. "But with the rumors continuing to spread, about the protection, the loyalty, the strength, more and more are getting interested. Students who aren’t even fighters are buying the merch. That number’s only going to grow. And the influence we have in this school... it’s going to happen in every school."
Jay leaned forward, listening intently.
"But it’s not just Brinhurst," Max continued. "In Notting Hill City alone, there are eight million people."
Joe’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Eight million? Seriously?"
It made sense in a way, Notting Hill was a coastal city, packed tight and teeming with life. But still, hearing the number out loud was shocking. Especially for those who lived in the poorer districts, where the world always felt smaller.
"The Bloodline Group will expand from Brinhurst," Max said with calm certainty. "We’ll spread to the other districts, one by one. Eventually, we’ll have control over the entire city. And when that happens, we’ll be on the syndicate level."
Joe and Jay exchanged glances.
They remembered the rankings Max had explained before: street groups, organized groups, and at the very top, syndicates.
"Is it really possible?" Joe asked aloud. "For a bunch of schoolkids to reach that level?"
Max just smiled again. He didn’t need to answer.
"And don’t forget," he added, "we have the girls from Seaton High. They’re boosting our image like crazy. They’ve got followers from all over, and when they wear the merch and post about it, more people from outside Notting Hill start paying attention."
He made a mental note, he’d have to contact Warma later and check the sales numbers. But he had a feeling they were astronomical already.
Then he turned to Jay.
"I wanted to ask you something," Max said. "Since you know students better than I do."
That phrasing made Jay pause for a second. Since you know students better than I do?
It was almost like Max didn’t even consider himself one anymore.
"How loyal do you think the other schools will be to the Bloodline Group?" Max asked. "If I told them to help me attack other areas, or to hold ground... would they?"
Jay was quiet for a moment, carefully considering his answer.
"They’d probably do it. For a few reasons," he eventually said. "First, there’s fear. If they’re kicked out of the Bloodline Group, they lose everything, protection, alliances, influence. And then? Everyone becomes their enemy."
Max nodded, already thinking through the implications.
"The only reason they’d leave ," Jay continued, "is if they stop believing in you. If they lose confidence in your strength, or if someone else shows up who they think could take you down."
"Even if I don’t pay them?" Max asked.
"Yeah," Jay confirmed. "Most delinquents aren’t doing this for money. They’ve already given up on school. The Bloodline Group gives them purpose . They feel like they’re part of something bigger , and that’s what they really want, meaning. Belonging. Recognition."
Jay leaned back in his chair.
"But," he added, "when they graduate, when they leave school, that’s when things change. That’s when they’ll start thinking about money again. That sense of belonging won’t be enough anymore."
That was fine by Max.
He had originally planned to eventually pay everyone in the Bloodline Group, but at the moment, he was only paying members from his school. If loyalty was strong enough without cash incentives, that meant he could hold off longer, build his funds, and plan for the future without immediate expenses.
Good, he thought. That solves one problem.
But now... another message demanded his attention.
He glanced down at his phone again. The message from the Rejected Corps still sat on the screen:
[We need you this evening.]
Max sighed, leaning back in his chair.
Time to deal with another situation.
What he didn’t know was that his influence had already created waves beyond anything he could have imagined. The fallout had begun.
Several days after the school-wide incident, a man sat alone in a sleek, high-rise office in the heart of the financial district. The city skyline loomed behind him, but his attention was focused on the document in his hand.
Dennis Stern, head of the Stern family, scanned the page slowly, his expression growing darker with each line.
He finally set the paper down and leaned forward over his desk.
"What in the world... has that young man done?" Dennis muttered, voice cold and low.