Steven stuck his little finger in his ear and twisted, half-convinced he'd misheard.
"Wait… what did you just say? Did you seriously ask me to take care of someone?"
Max didn't flinch. He just stared straight ahead, eyes locked on Steven, waiting for a response.
"Hey, you've got to be careful with how you say stuff like that," Steven muttered, glancing around the empty gym out of instinct. "You say something like that, and it almost sounds like you want me to…" He lowered his voice. "Kill someone."
That made Max laugh, and not a little chuckle either—full-on laughter that echoed through the gym. Given the context, it made him seem completely unhinged.
"No, I'm not asking you to go that far," Max said as the laughter faded. "I just want you to rough someone up a bit. A few solid hits here and there—someone from my school."
Steven's brows drew together. "You want me to beat up a kid?"
He shook his head. Based on what he'd seen of Max so far, the request didn't really add up. The kid could clearly handle himself. Still, Steven had a few guesses. Maybe Max was being bullied at school, and this was his way of fighting back.
But if that was true… then who the hell were these bullies?
"I'm sorry… I just… I don't think I can do it," Steven finally said, shaking his head. "Beating up someone I don't even know? Someone I've got no personal issue with? That's just not who I am. And besides… we're talking about a teenager. A 17-year-old kid. I don't think I could go through with something like that."
Max gave a small nod. He'd gotten the answer he was looking for—not disappointed, not surprised. If anything, he'd just been curious. Curious to see what someone like Steven, with real skill, might say when faced with a situation like that.
Because Max wasn't just thinking about today.
He was thinking about the future—about the White Tiger Gang. About going up against the very empire he had built from the ground up. It was a force too large to take on alone. And Max didn't have the luxury of time to build deep, meaningful relationships. Not anymore.
So, instead, he wanted to test something.
Just how far can money really take me?
After all…
You said money is what rules the world.
That's why I was betrayed, right?
With those thoughts, Max slid his hands into his pockets and turned away.
Steven, still watching him, felt his phone buzz. Then again. And again. Notifications lit up the screen—several messages from different people and companies, all popping up in quick succession.
[Your loan is overdue.]
[Your debt has gone into collections.]
[If you don't pay us back, you know what will happen to you.]
Steven stared at the screen, his grip on the phone tightening. Slowly, his eyes lifted toward Max, who was just about to walk out the gym doors.
"But!" Steven suddenly shouted. "It depends how high… after all, there's a price for everything."
Max didn't even glance back. He kept walking, a small smile creeping onto his face.
'There sure is.'
Steven stood frozen in the middle of his empty gym.
"…Wait, he's not even going to make an offer? Was that all just to mess with my head?!"
When Max finally returned home, he pulled out his phone and started reviewing the information he had gathered so far—trying to piece together the fragments of Max Stern's life. He was looking for patterns, connections, anything that would help him make sense of why things had turned out the way they did.
He had met a few people now, but none of them explained everything.
So far, I've only managed to find one person from the list.
And I know the moment I act, things will spiral. It'll get messy fast. I need to find more names before I do anything—at least until this body is strong enough to handle what's coming.
The next day arrived, and Max was back at school—the dreaded place that twisted Max Stern's life.
As soon as he walked into the classroom, his eyes locked onto Sam.
He'd been pushed to the back of the room.
Again.
Joe and Mo each held a permanent black marker in their hands, scrawling all over Sam's white school shirt. They were mostly drawing two balls and a long shaft—thinking they were absolutely hilarious.
At least, Ko thought so. He was doubled over at his desk, laughing loudly.
"Ha! What a perfect canvas. Honestly, I'd say we just increased the value of your shirt by fifty percent," Ko mocked.
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He didn't cry out loud, but it was clear how much this hurt him. He knew neither he nor his family could afford a new uniform.
"Aww, is Piggy upset?" Ko taunted. "What's the matter? They don't make shirts big enough in your size?"
He then turned to look behind him—his eyes landing on Max, who had just entered the classroom.
"Joe, I think we need a fresh canvas, don't you?" Ko grinned.
Joe didn't hesitate. He strolled toward Max, reaching out to grab a fistful of his shirt—just like always.
But this time, Max slapped the hand away without thinking.
"Don't touch me," Max snapped.
Joe blinked, stunned. "What the hell? Did you just… talk back to me? And knock my hand away?!"
Damn it, Max thought. I acted on instinct… I only just walked in, and I already slipped. That's exactly what I would've done before. Crap—I can't act now. Not in front of everyone.
"Aren't you going to say anything?!" Joe shouted before slamming a kick straight into Max's stomach.
The impact knocked the air out of him as he crumpled to his knees. Without a pause, Joe grabbed Max by the hair, yanking him up and dragging him across the classroom floor.
"Did you not hear what Ko said? You two are our servants. You don't get to defy us!"
With that, he flung Max across the room, releasing his grip. Max slammed into the back wall.
Slowly, Max brushed off the dirt from his uniform and moved to stand beside Sam again.
"What the hell is that?" Ko said from his seat, squinting toward the back of the classroom. "What the fuck is that look on your face?"
Right now, Max was doing everything he could to restrain himself. Every fiber in his body screamed to act—but he knew if he snapped now, everything he'd built up could come crashing down. Still, his fury was written all over his face as he glared at the three of them.
"Looks like we've got a defiant one," Ko sneered. "Y'know, we've been going a little easy on Sam lately. Maybe you forgot your place. Joe—how about we remind him with something special? A beating so bad, he'll wish he was in hell."