Chapter 261: After The Fall
Wolf turned his attention away from Max and gave a quick command to the Pit members lingering nearby.
"Make sure Chad doesn’t do anything stupid," he ordered.
The group obeyed immediately, surrounding Chad and standing close enough that any movement would be noticed. But they didn’t need to force him down or tie him up. Surprisingly, Chad didn’t resist. In fact, he seemed more compliant than any of them had expected.
Maybe it was the fear.
He’d already been terrified of the Black Hounds, forced into working under them. And now, seeing a completely different crew swoop in and wipe out some of the Hounds’ strongest fighters, he knew he was outmatched. These weren’t just street thugs. They were something else. And now, they were the ones guarding him.
"What are we supposed to do with the rest of them?" Joe asked, stepping next to Wolf with concern in his voice. "This was a whole gang we just messed with, right? And this wasn’t even all of them."
He glanced at the scattered bodies of the fallen Black Hound fighters, most of them still breathing but out cold.
"If the rest of the gang finds out we attacked them... won’t they come for all of us? Or anyone wearing a Bloodline uniform?"
Wolf didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to Max, still unconscious in Steven and Joe’s arms. He had a feeling Max had been about to say something important before he passed out. Something that might’ve answered that exact question.
Thankfully, someone else stepped forward to fill the silence.
"I’ll handle the rest," Aron said, his tone as sharp as a blade.
All eyes turned toward him as he adjusted his sleeves and pulled out his phone. His expression was cold and unwavering, the kind of calm that only came from someone used to cleaning up messy problems.
"I’ll make sure none of these people say a word," he continued. "They’ll be locked up for what they’ve done today. No media. No visitors. Nothing will leak."
He glanced at the unconscious or restrained gang members.
"I’ll bury this entire situation. You have my word."
Aron’s confidence was unshakable as he began dialing numbers on his phone, already preparing to mobilize resources.
But the manager, still the only Black Hound standing, let out a bitter, mocking laugh.
"Ha! Do you even know who you’re messing with?" he barked. "You think you’re hot stuff just because of some fancy uniforms and tough talk?"
His voice rose with each word, his panic poorly hidden beneath his arrogance.
"No one’s even heard of the Bloodline Group! You’re nothing. But we , we’re the Black Hounds. And when they find out what happened here tonight, they’ll hunt every last one of you down. It won’t stop with you. They’ll come after everyone you care about. Your families. Your friends. Anyone tied to you."
Wolf shrugged, utterly unfazed.
"Well... the Pit’s made up of runaways anyway," he said. "Most of us don’t have anyone left for them to target."
"My family doesn’t care about me," Joe added, voice flat but honest. "Haven’t spoken to them in years."
Steven gave a dry laugh as he crossed his arms. "Guess that’s something we’ve all got in common, huh?"
There was a strange moment of solidarity between the group. A quiet bond, not born of shared victories, but shared abandonment.
That was when Aron, still holding his phone, walked slowly toward the manager. He hadn’t made his calls yet, he didn’t need to. Not until he made a point.
Just like with Chad, a couple of Pit members flanked the manager, keeping him in check. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Aron stopped just a few feet away, his eyes locking onto the manager’s.
"You’ve said enough," Aron said, voice quiet, dangerous. "Now it’s time you listened."
"I think you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with," Aron said firmly, stepping even closer to the manager. His eyes narrowed, and there was a steel edge to his voice that made everyone listening fall quiet. "It seems like you knew who that person was, what his real identity is... didn’t you?"
The manager flinched.
For a moment, he had indeed forgotten. Maybe Chad was expendable, just a pawn who didn’t carry any real protection from the powerful family behind him. But Max?
What if Max was different?
What if Max wasn’t just some runaway playing gangster? What if he was protected, and not only that, but had someone who knew how to wield that power, that money, like a weapon?
His blood ran cold at the thought. He didn’t need to guess for much longer.
Because Aron had already made the call.
Whatever plans the manager might’ve been thinking of, faking innocence, calling reinforcements, escaping under cover, none of them mattered now. Aron would see to it personally that every last Black Hound member involved here was thrown into a cell.
And with the chaos and damage left behind, there was more than enough evidence to justify their arrests. All they needed to do was frame the right narrative.
They’d find paperwork. Transactions. Messages. Everything buried in their office spaces. Enough to bury them ten times over.
By the time Aron returned to the group, the call had ended. His expression was composed, but there was a finality in his tone.
"The mercenaries will arrive first," he explained, straightening his collar. "They’ll lock down the entire area, make sure no one moves. Once they’re here, I suggest you all leave before the police show up. I’ll take care of the rest."
He paused, glancing toward the VIP section. His gaze lingered on one particular figure still unconscious.
"It would be best... if you took the troublesome one somewhere else before the authorities arrive."
Wolf followed his line of sight and nodded without needing clarification.
"Understood."
As they waited for the mercenary group to arrive, a few of the Pit members moved quickly, gathering unconscious guests and injured fighters into one central area. It would make things easier for the cleanup and control.
One of them, trying to reposition Dud’s limp body, leaned down and hooked his arms under the man’s shoulders.
That’s when Dud’s eyes flew open.
"Wha, ?"
The Pit member didn’t even get the chance to react.
In an instant, Dud grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it back, and slammed his fist directly into the Pit member’s face with bone-crunching force.
Blood splattered as the Pit member crumpled, knocked out cold.
Before anyone could respond, Dud glanced around, spotted the emergency exit, and bolted.
"Stop him!" someone shouted.
But he was already gone.
His body moved fast, fueled by adrenaline and survival instinct. And the moment had been so sudden, so unexpected, that no one could catch him in time.
"Damn it!" Wolf cursed. "Was he awake this whole time? Waiting for the perfect moment?"
Aron remained calm. He didn’t even turn to watch Dud escape.
"Don’t worry about him too much," he said. "In his condition, I doubt he has the strength, or the nerve, to come after Max again. And trust me... I’ll find him."
A few minutes later, just as promised, the mercenary team arrived in full force.
They were swift and efficient, moving in with practiced precision. Within moments, they had secured the premises, blocked the exits, and began cataloging the situation. Anyone still breathing was put under watch. Anyone resisting was cuffed.
With the mercs in place, it was time for the others to make their exit.
As Wolf and a few others began escorting Chad out with them, the former manager tried one last desperate play.
"Wait! Wait!" Chad cried out, practically tripping over his own feet as he stumbled forward. "Let me speak to your boss! The boss of this Bloodline group! Maybe... maybe we can work something out, yeah? Make a deal? Right? Right?!"
Wolf stopped and turned his head slightly.
"Our boss?" he echoed, his voice unreadable.
He gave a small smirk and shrugged.
"I mean... sure. But it might take a while before you get a meeting with him."
Wolf stepped in close, his voice dropping just above a whisper.
"And before that happens... I’ve got a few questions of my own."
Chad swallowed hard.