Chapter 250: The Bloodline Jacket
The jacket Max was wearing fit perfectly, snug across his shoulders as if it belonged to him all along. Of course, it wasn’t just any jacket, it was tailor-made, just like the others in the group.
Back when he first entered the Black Hounds’ territory, Max hadn’t worn it. He thought it wasn’t the right time, that it might raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer. But now, knowing what was coming, knowing the trouble that might follow, he had told Wolf and the others to bring the uniforms.
The surprising part? He hadn’t asked anyone to bring his own jacket. So when they handed it to him, it felt like more than just clothing. It felt like a symbol.
As Max slipped it on, something inside him shifted. The weight of the jacket pressed on his shoulders, heavy, not because of the fabric, but because of the responsibility. This wasn’t just about saving himself anymore. It was about everyone who came here for him. It was about the Billion Bloodline group.
Someone else had noticed the jacket too. Chad stood frozen, his gaze locked on the blazing logo stitched across Max’s back. That emblem burned into his mind like a brand.
That jacket... It’s the same one those guys wore, the ones who stormed in and tore through the Black Hounds, Chad thought, his chest tightening. And one of them handed it to Max himself. Does that mean Max... joined a gang?
His mind spun with questions. Are they here because of him?
It didn’t make sense. Even if Max was a member, why would an entire group risk so much just for him? When had he joined? And why did they treat him like someone important? Max was just a high school student. Ordinary. At least, he had always thought so.
Is this why he can fight? Did these people teach him?
A darker thought crept into Chad’s mind. Maybe it was because of him. Maybe Max had no other choice. Stripped of his money, cornered and bullied every single day, maybe Max turned to them. Maybe this was who he had become because of everything that happened.
But the truth was harsh: none of this made sense. To Chad, it felt like madness.
Down below, the manager noticed too. His eyes narrowed at the sight of that jacket, and at the way the other members reacted when Max put it on.
"So this whole thing... it was orchestrated by him," the manager muttered under his breath, his fists clenching. "He knew they were coming. That’s why he attacked me earlier. But what I still don’t understand... why would a Stern be doing this? And how the hell can he fight like that?" His lips curled into a snarl. "Doesn’t matter. I’ll find out, even if I have to rip the truth straight out of his tongue."
The manager could tell one thing clearly: these people weren’t ordinary. They were skilled fighters, every single one of them, including Max now that he wore that jacket. But even then, he had seen Dud fight. And Dud wasn’t just strong, he was someone who could hold his own against multiple high-ranking members of the Black Hounds.
That left him wondering, since the two had history, would Dud pull his punches? Or would he betray Max at the last second? If that happened, things would get messy fast.
But watching the way the two of them approached each other, the manager realized this wasn’t something he needed to worry about. Not now.
"So, the whole time, you had something like this up your sleeve?" Dud asked, his voice low but edged with curiosity. "Makes me wonder... are you just part of this gang? Or... are you the one who created it all?"
"Dud..." Max’s tone was calm, almost pleading. "I didn’t want to fight you. We don’t have to do this. I know what your group’s goal is. Ultimately... I get it."
"Right. Right." Dud smirked, cracking his neck. "But here’s the thing, now that I know you’re with another group... you’re just like them."
Max’s stomach tightened. He knew instantly: there was no talking Dud down. Words wouldn’t matter here.
Max dashed down the stairs, his feet pounding against metal. Then, without hesitation, he leapt from his position. The drop gave him momentum, and as he soared through the air, his knees rose to head height, aimed directly at Dud.
Just like he’d seen Wolf do, Max drove both knees toward Dud’s face with everything he had.
But Dud wasn’t just anyone. His arms shot up, forearms crossing in time to block. The impact rattled through him, and even with the guard, the force drove Dud back.
With a grunt, Dud let his body roll with the momentum, tumbling down the stairs until he slammed against the floor at the bottom. Gasps echoed around the room.
To anyone else, it looked like Max had crushed him. But Dud’s fall wasn’t an accident, it was calculated. By rolling, he’d taken most of the power out of the blow. Even so, when he stood up, brushing dust off his jacket, his arms still throbbed. He could feel the strength behind that attack.
"When I first saw you," Dud said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder, "I wanted to go at it with you. But Chrono would never allow it. Now... seeing this side of you, it’s clear you’ve been hiding your real strength."
He flexed his fingers, then stretched his arms wide. His grin turned sharp.
"But if you think that fancy jacket makes you a match for me? You’ve taken too many hits to the head. Don’t worry, I’ll correct that."
Max descended the last few steps, his movements deliberate. Fighting on higher ground wasn’t worth the risk. Too many ways to fall, too many ways to lose. Down here, it was better. Cleaner.
Besides, no one else would interfere now. If they tried, Wolf was there to make sure they didn’t.
"I know you’re a wall," Max said softly, his eyes locking on Dud’s. "A massive one. Getting past you isn’t easy. But if I want to achieve what I came here for... if I want to reach the top... I have to climb these walls. One by one."
His fists clenched. His pulse thundered in his ears.
"And you, Dud, you’re just one of them."