Chapter 315: The Birth of an Empire
Part of the Bloodline Group had already moved into the storage rooms of the venue and to the large van parked outside.
Inside, they found crates stacked with restraints and equipment, gear clearly meant for controlling large groups. It didn’t take long for them to realize the Rejected Corps had never fully trusted the Chalkline Boys to follow through with this deal. They had prepared a contingency in case things went south. And now, that very precaution was being turned against them.
Quickly, the Bloodline members dragged their beaten enemies into clusters, binding their arms and legs so they couldn’t move or even attempt an escape.
Among the crates were even several sets of police-grade handcuffs. There weren’t nearly enough for everyone, but they used them wisely, locking down the more dangerous ones, those who had tried to break free or put up the most resistance.
One of those bound in cuffs was none other than Montez, the head of the Chalkline Boys.
Wolf grabbed him roughly by the arm and marched him across the cluttered room. He shoved him down into the only chair at a small, battered table.
In the chaos, papers had spilled across the floor, some scattered, some half-torn. Max crouched, gathering them up into a pile, flipping through page after page. His eyes skimmed the words quickly, absorbing details without slowing.
Wolf pushed Montez into place across the table. The defeated leader shook his head, his face twisted in disbelief.
"I can’t believe this," Montez muttered through clenched teeth. "We’ve actually lost... to a bunch of high schoolers."
Max finally looked up from the papers, his gaze sharp.
"You and the Rejected Corps already had bad blood," he said evenly. "In truth, you were just swept up in everything that happened tonight. My target was Chrono. Always was. But when the chance finally came to strike, when we knew exactly where he would be, it was here."
Max dropped the papers onto the table with a slap.
"And I wanted to send a clear message. We didn’t jump him in an alley. We didn’t ambush him when he was alone. We took down Chrono and his entire gang face-to-face, along with yours, without tricks or shadows. We completely defeated the Rejected Corps, and everyone watching knows it. That’s the kind of message the Bloodline Group needed for our debut."
His words carried weight. Around them, the tied-up Chalkline members kept silent, the sound of their ragged breathing the only reply.
Max leaned in slightly, his tone sharp but calm. "To have crushed the Rejected Corps, the most feared street gang in Notting Hill, and taken down an organized crew like yours at the same time... people will remember this."
Montez didn’t respond, but his silence spoke louder than words. He knew Max was right. The Chalkline Boys could do nothing now against the Bloodline. Even if they tried to rebuild, even if they scraped together new recruits and came back, the news of tonight would spread quickly. And that news would make every other group think twice before ever crossing them again.
However, even if the Chalkline Boys were somehow allowed to keep operating after tonight, they would now be marked as a clear and permanent target. The battle had already exposed their weaknesses, and the whispers of their downfall would spread across every back alley and street corner by morning.
It was over for the Chalkline Boys. Their reputation, their business, their name, it was already crumbling.
"You were in the middle of signing a deal with Chrono, correct?" Max asked, his tone sharp and commanding. His voice carried the weight of the entire room, pulling every ear toward him. "I want to make that same deal with you. Everything Chrono was set to gain will now go to the Bloodline Group. Everything will belong to us from this day forward.
"We will absorb all of your business... and the Rejected Corps as well. Those who wish to stay and become part of the Bloodline can do so, but they will have to follow strict conditions laid down by me.
"If they don’t want to join, they can walk away. I’ll give them that choice once, and only once. But if they refuse and then try to side with another group, then from that day forward, they will be branded as enemies of the Bloodline."
The words echoed like a declaration of war, and though Max’s expression remained calm, the fire burning in his eyes made it clear he was not exaggerating.
In truth, it was a far more generous offer than Max ever needed to make. Montez knew this well.
But it was also the path of least resistance, a clever way to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Not everyone would listen if Montez ordered his boys to disband. There would always be those too stubborn, too loyal, or too afraid to let go of their old gang. And if the Bloodline Group, still made up of high school students, tried to run things openly, every rival gang in the city would see them as nothing more than kids playing dress-up in the Underworld.
Yet somehow... Max was already flipping the script, seizing control of the narrative before it could be written against him.
’Is this kid really just a high schooler?’ Montez thought as he stared at Max’s steady gaze. ’What the hell is he? A boy? Or something much more dangerous?’
"Hey," Wolf cut in, his voice low but carrying a sharp edge. "Are you really going to make that offer to everyone? Even the Rejected Corps... after what they did to her?"
Max’s expression shifted, his jaw clenching and his tone hardening like steel.
"We’ll take over the Rejected Corps’ business," he said, his voice dark with finality. "But you’re right. That offer is only for the Chalkline Boys.
"As for the rest of them..." Max’s eyes narrowed, and a cold promise laced his words. "I’ll make sure every last one of those bastards rots in a cell for the rest of their lives. They won’t walk the streets again."
There was another reason too, one Max kept to himself. The hostility between the Chalkline Boys and the Rejected Corps ran too deep. There was no way to absorb both groups without chaos breaking out from within. At best, he might pick off a few scattered members who were smart enough to abandon their old loyalties, but never the whole gang.
Montez, listening carefully, wondered if Max had calculated all of this from the start. If so, this wasn’t just a lucky teenager with a grudge. This was a boy who thought several steps ahead, a boy who played the game of the Underworld like he had been born for it.
’He’s dangerous,’ Montez admitted silently. ’If he keeps going like this... he’ll become a name even I’ll have to respect.’
"Very well," Montez finally answered, his voice low with reluctant acceptance. "We can work out the terms. But understand this, I won’t be out of your sight until I know exactly what I’m dealing with."
Max rose to his feet then, the chair scraping softly against the floor, but the sound felt thunderous in the quiet room. His shadow stretched long across the walls, and in that moment, every person present could sense it: this day had changed everything.
The Bloodline Group would now absorb new business, new wealth, and new influence. They weren’t just a ragtag band of high school fighters anymore. With one decisive move, Max had forced their place onto the map of the Underworld.
The Bloodline was no longer merely a gang. Tonight had marked the beginning of their transformation into something bigger, something sharper, something organized.
And in the dark corners of the city, the established powers would not ignore this. The Underworld was sure to act, and the ripple effects of what Max had done tonight would soon spread far beyond Notting Hill.