Chapter 206: The Battle Of The Rejected Corps (part 1)
There had been a string of good news for Max lately, business booming, his influence rising, but beneath the surface, a problem still loomed. One he hadn’t shaken off.
Dipter and Chad had left him with a lasting issue, something far more dangerous than any school rivalry or gym dispute: a lingering connection to the Rejected Crops.
And that connection... wasn’t something Max could just cut loose.
After school, Max stood outside at their usual pick-up spot, a quiet corner just beyond the school gates. The sun was beginning to dip behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the pavement. That was when Wolf arrived, leaning casually against a nearby lamppost, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
It was the first time they were meeting face-to-face with the Rejected Crops again since the fallout, since Max had rejected them.
"Half of me wants to double the fee again," Wolf said coolly, glancing toward Max with a half-smirk.
Max’s eyes snapped to him, flashing with quiet fury. In the past, he might’ve tolerated the greed, might’ve even brushed it off. But now? If Wolf tried to double his price again, Max was ready to tell him to walk.
Wolf raised his hands slightly, reading the look. "Calm down, I won’t," he said, easing the tension. "I won’t . It’s just... I can feel it, Max. Things are getting more dangerous since we rejected them last time. You’ve stirred something big."
He straightened up, voice lower now, more serious.
"You should know by now, the Rejected Crops demand complete loyalty from those under them. If someone shows too much promise and isn’t one of them , they don’t just ignore it. They don’t let you thrive on your own. If they can’t have you... they’d rather no one can."
Max took a breath, eyes narrowing. "I know. But I was in a very specific situation back then. I couldn’t afford to tie myself down to them, not when everything was still up in the air."
Wolf tilted his head. "So what now? What’s your plan?"
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "I can tell you’re getting stronger. The way you carry yourself, it’s different. But don’t tell me you’re planning to take them on, not head-on. I keep warning you, even with my help, you’re not ready to go to war with the Rejected Crops."
Max didn’t say anything right away. Inwardly, though, he was smiling.
Wolf didn’t know. He didn’t really know. He had no clue about the rise of the Billion Bloodline group. No idea how far Max’s influence had already spread. And since Wolf came from another city altogether, he hadn’t seen what was happening firsthand.
Which meant Max still held a few cards close to his chest.
"It’s not that I want to go against them," Max finally replied. "But I might not have a choice. The whole reason I got involved with them in the first place, it wasn’t something I could just walk away from. And now..."
He trailed off, eyes looking past Wolf for a second.
"...I’m not sure I can walk away anymore."
The silence between them settled like a weight.
Max wasn’t bluffing. He was seriously considering reaching out to Chad, trying to track him down and confront him directly. Maybe get some answers. Or maybe just end things before they got worse.
Because Max could feel it. The tension in the city. The quiet before a storm.
And the Rejected Crops weren’t the type to let things go.
According to Dipter, Max’s debt wasn’t directly with the Rejected Crops.
It was with someone above them, someone far more dangerous.
"Have you ever heard of the Black Hounds?" Max asked, keeping his voice low as they waited near the curb.
Wolf’s brows knit together slightly. "I’ve heard of them, somewhat," he replied. "They run an underground fighting ring... and a bunch of other gambling operations too."
He paused, looking off thoughtfully.
"They’re not based in my city, but every now and then, they reach out to strong fighters in local gangs, invite them to compete in their matches. It’s not exactly optional either. They’re ruthless, Max. The kind of people who don’t blink twice when someone disappears."
Then Wolf turned to him, his expression shifting with concern. "Don’t tell me... you’ve got trouble with them ?"
Max sighed, eyes narrowing. "Not directly. But I’ve been digging around, doing some research. It turns out Chad, the guy who dragged me into all of this, he lost money to the Black Hounds. A lot of money."
"And to pay it off," Max continued, "they had him working under the Rejected Crops."
Wolf didn’t react with the shock Max had expected. There was no wide-eyed stare or panicked tone. Instead, Wolf went quiet, thinking deeply, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
"Oh... that’s interesting," he said after a beat. "It sounds like the Rejected Crops aren’t just acting on orders, they’ve got their own ambitions."
He leaned against the lamppost again, arms crossed.
"If I had to guess, I’d say they’re using this whole war with the Chalkline Boys to climb higher. Once they wipe out the competition, they’ll try to become an official organized group, no longer under anyone’s thumb. Not even the Black Hounds."
Max absorbed the words carefully.
"I doubt the Hounds ordered this," Wolf added. "If anything, they’re watching from a distance. Letting the Rejected Crops do their thing. Because once both groups are on the same level... neither one will answer to the other anymore."
He tapped his fingers against his arm in a rhythmless pattern, clearly still thinking things through.
"This might actually be the right time to hit them," he muttered. "If someone attacked the Rejected Crops now, the Black Hounds probably wouldn’t get involved. Not because they don’t know what’s happening, but because they have no reason to risk anything during such a sensitive time."
Wolf looked at Max seriously.
"But just to be clear , that is by no means me telling you to start a fight," he added quickly. "We still don’t know how this war is going to play out. It could tip either way."
Max nodded silently, but the gears in his mind were already turning. Even if Wolf wasn’t suggesting a direct attack... the opportunity was there. The timing, the tension, it was all pointing toward something.
Just then, their conversation was interrupted.
The usual black car pulled up alongside them, the tires crunching softly against the curb. And as always, Dud was behind the wheel, ready to pick them up.
No words were exchanged as the two climbed into the car. But inside, Max wasn’t thinking about the ride.
He was thinking about strategy, about enemies... and about the next move he might have to make, maybe it was time that the Bloodline Group, made their appearance as a street gang.