Chapter 245: The Breaking Point
Chad was still in disbelief over what had just happened. His wide eyes stayed locked on Max, as if trying to make sense of it all.
He squinted, searching for signs that maybe he had mistaken the person. The mask still covered Max’s face, but the frame, the posture, the red hair, it was unmistakably him . It was the same Max he had always known.
This makes no sense... Chad thought, a pit growing in his stomach. He was the weak boy. The weak boy of the Stern family. The one whose parents died and left him alone.
He never once stood up for himself, no matter what anyone did. He’s just a damned high school student!
There had been so many reasons why Chad had targeted Max. It felt natural. It wasn’t just that Max appeared weak, he was weak. That’s what everyone thought. It was how Chad had been able to use Dipter to keep him under control while he figured out how to use his own wealth freely.
But the Max standing in front of him now, the one who had just taken down two trained guards, he wasn’t weak. Not at all.
If he had this strength inside him all along, Chad wondered, why didn’t he ever fight back? Why didn’t he stand up to me? Or to the other Stern family members who treated him like garbage?
But as quickly as the questions came, a cold sense of dread settled over Chad’s thoughts.
"Does it even matter now?" he whispered, scanning the surroundings. "Even if he can fight... there are too many of them. He can’t take all of them out."
The VIP guests who had been sitting in the same row were now starting to move. They rushed down the steps toward the ring, trying to stay out of whatever this was turning into. That left only Max and Chad standing on the upper platform, with all the guards slowly advancing toward them.
"Max..." Chad said shakily. "We... we have to fix this. There has to be a way we can fix it!"
"I think we’re beyond that now. Don’t you?" Max replied, calm but firm.
There was no way Max could let them take his money. If they did, his vow would activate, weakening his body. That would leave them with no fighting chance, not even a sliver of one.
A guard suddenly charged in from the side, this one larger than the others they’d seen so far.
As the man swung at him, Max shifted to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. Without hesitation, he grabbed a glass bottle from the nearby table and smashed it across the man’s jaw.
The bottle shattered into glittering shards, but Max knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not on someone his size.
So Max didn’t stop. He jumped up onto the table, planted his foot, and launched himself forward, driving a kick directly into the man’s face.
The guard crumpled, crashing down onto the ground.
But Max had no time to breathe.
Another guard was already coming at him.
Max grabbed more bottles, hurling them at the charging figures. The guards shielded their faces as glass exploded around them. Using that moment of distraction, Max rushed in.
He grabbed one guard by the shoulder and delivered a brutal knee to the stomach, once, twice, three times, then lifted the man and hurled him off to the side like dead weight.
The upper platform gave him a slight height advantage. He could see them coming. That helped, but not enough.
One of the guards reached him from behind and delivered a crushing kick to Max’s back. The force sent him stumbling forward. Pain radiated through his ribs.
Max clenched his teeth, turned, and dove at the man’s legs. He tackled him to the ground and immediately locked onto his leg, twisting hard.
CRACK.
He pulled the move off flawlessly, it was one he’d seen Dud perform before.
But now, more guards were on him, kicking at him while he was down. Max covered up as best he could, shielding his face and ribs, but the blows kept raining down. A kick caught him on the cheek. Another drove into his ribs.
If it weren’t for my vow, Max thought through the pain, I probably would’ve been down already...
Then, finally, he managed to catch one of the attackers’ legs. He yanked hard, throwing the man off balance.
"ARRRGHH!" Max shouted as he spun and kicked the man directly in the side of the knee. A sickening pop echoed through the room, and the guard dropped like a stone, writhing in agony.
Max didn’t stop.
His attacks were relentless. Brutal. Using whatever he could find around him as a weapon. Even the other guards, trained as they were, were starting to look at him with caution.
"That damned kid..." the manager spat, watching in frustration. "He’s not even fighting like a kid. He’s fighting like his life depends on it!"
He turned to the guards, rage boiling in his voice. "What are you brutes doing?! It’s just one person! Take him out already!"
Max stood tall in the middle of the chaos, blood on his fists and fire in his eyes. He was still breathing hard, but he hadn’t gone down. His stare pierced through the crowd.
Chad, still frozen behind him, was trembling.
"I really don’t understand," he whispered to himself. "Where did he learn to fight like this? Is it... is it because of me?"
His mind reeled.
"Is Max this way because of everything I did to him ? All those bullies I sent after him... all those years I made him suffer?"
He paused, a new thought clicking into place.
"Wait... how did Dipter get taken out in the first place? And Max was locked up..."
The pieces were beginning to connect. Slowly. But the truth was still almost too unbelievable to accept.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Oi!"
The manager turned his head toward the voice and pointed directly at Dud, who had remained seated throughout the chaos.
"I saw you talking to that kid earlier," the manager said. "And he made quite the big bet on you, which kicked this whole mess off."
"I’m guessing the two of you know each other?"
Dud’s expression didn’t change. He gave a simple answer.
"In passing. I wouldn’t say we’re friends," Dud replied calmly.
"Well that’s good," the manager snapped. "Then you need to deal with this mess. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure the Black Hounds believe you were working with him. And if that happens, the Rejected Corps and the Black Hounds will be at war . You wouldn’t want that, would you?"
Dud let out a long sigh, rising slowly from his seat.
"I guess," he muttered, rolling his shoulders, "I really don’t have a choice."