At the Stern Manor, Dennis was seated at his desk, going through a stack of files. He personally read each one, sometimes signing them at the bottom with a wet signature. Others, he tore apart and tossed aside without hesitation.
Most chairmen of large corporations wouldn't bother handling things so directly, but Dennis was different. He wanted to know every single moving part.
"It appears I've just received some news, sir," Fred said, standing by his side and slipping his phone back into his pocket.
"News important enough to interrupt me in the middle of all this?" Dennis asked, rubbing his tired eyes. "I need a break anyway, but I hope it's something pleasant."
"Pleasant? I'm not so sure about that," Fred replied. "But it's certainly interesting. It's about Max Stern. It seems… he's decided to use the money."
Dennis froze.
Now that was interesting.
Out of all the heirs, Max had always stood out, for the simple reason that he was the only one who hadn't touched the money… until now.
However, when Dennis had previously tried to look into Max's behavior, why he hadn't used the money, he came up empty. There was no grand scheme, no elaborate plan. If anything, Dennis had been disappointed.
Still, because of the unique situation within the Stern family, Dennis had instructed Fred to monitor any movements closely. And now that there was movement, he was expecting something big.
"I've sent the corresponding information to your tablet. Make of it what you will," Fred said.
Sitting at the corner of Dennis's desk was a sleek tablet. He didn't always use it, but for things like email or keeping updated on key reports, it came in handy. Situations like this were exactly why he kept it nearby.
Opening the file Fred had sent, Dennis scrolled through the digital contract. His expression barely changed, except for a single, curious raise of the eyebrow.
"You're right," Dennis finally said. "This is interesting… and it makes absolutely no sense. Buying into a restaurant, and not even the whole thing, just a small percentage? I've tried to piece together how he could possibly use this to his advantage, what kind of angle he's playing, but nothing adds up."
Dennis rubbed his temples, then scratched the back of his head as he thought it through a little more.
"Keep tracking his financial movements," he finally said. "If he's started spending now, it likely means he's planning to spend a lot more soon."
His voice dropped slightly as he leaned back in his chair.
"But if this is part of some grand ambition... I don't see it going anywhere. He won't become a true heir like this, he'll get eaten alive by the people around him. Frankly, it's disappointing."
****
The rain had cleared up, leaving behind the damp smell of the streets as the trio wandered aimlessly, debating how to spend the rest of their weekend. They tossed around ideas. maybe the arcade, a visit to the pool hall, or something totally different.
As they walked, Joe's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and nearly dropped it.
Ko glanced over. "What's up? Your mom text you to come home and scrub the floors or something?"
Joe quickly flipped the phone back around, forcing a weak smile. "Ah, no, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."
Trying to play it off, he pocketed the phone and added, "Actually, how about we all head home, get changed out of these suits, and meet back up at the arcade? Feels kinda stuffy walking around like this. And honestly… a little depressing."
Ko eyed Joe for a second, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought.
"Yeah," he finally said, nodding. "That actually sounds like a good idea."
Joe let out a breath of relief, subtle but noticeable.
"Let's meet up at the arcade by the west library," he added.
With that, the trio agreed and split up, each heading their separate ways. They didn't all live in the same neighborhood, so it wasn't unusual for them to part like this.
As soon as he was far enough away, Joe pulled out his phone again, his fingers moving fast to open the message that had nearly made him drop the device earlier.
[Get The Power Rangers to split up.]
At first, Joe had been confused. He thought it was about the actual TV show. How am I supposed to break up the Power Rangers? he'd wondered. Aren't they, like, all about unity?
But then he saw the sender: Max.
And it clicked.
He's talking about us. Him, Ko, and Mo—the little crew of bullies. The "Power Rangers."
A second message followed, sealing the deal.
[If you do, I'll add an extra $100 this month.]
Joe didn't even hesitate. He'd already thought of a solid way to break the group up for a bit, and with that, the job was done. He tapped out a quick reply and sent it back to Max.
He wanted us to split up… Joe thought, staring at his phone, a strange chill running down his spine. Why do I have this bad feeling? Did I just do something incredibly stupid?
But then he shook it off. Still, it was a hundred bucks just for saying a few words. It's not my fault, right? I just said we should go home and get changed.
****
Meanwhile, Mo was strolling along the quieter streets, far from the busier main roads, happily whistling to himself. He was already pretty close to home, completely relaxed now that the day was over.
That was until something slammed into him hard from the side.
His body was thrown to the edge of the sidewalk, but he managed to stay on his feet, skidding back a few steps. He spun around, ready to throw hands.
"What the heck, who just did that?!"
His scowl quickly morphed into a smug grin when he saw who it was.
"Max… seriously?" Mo said, rolling his eyes. "What is this? You really waited until I was alone to try something? Do you actually think, just 'cause it's one-on-one, you'll stand a chance?"
Max didn't flinch. His fists clenched, his knuckles whitening as he stared down Mo with quiet rage.
"What you said… at the funeral," Max muttered, his voice low and sharp. "I won't forget it."
"What, that's what pushed you over the edge?" Mo laughed, loud and mocking. "Well, looks like you're trying to make that little funeral wish come true, showing up here like this!"
Without waiting another second, Mo charged at Max, his footsteps loud against the pavement. As soon as he got close, he launched a wild punch, aiming straight for Max's face. Max shifted to the side, dodging it easily, but Mo followed up with another swing, this time more precise, more forceful.
Only it didn't land.
Max caught the punch clean in his palm, gripping Mo's fist tightly.
"Sam tried to help me," Max said, his voice steady but shaking with emotion, "even though he didn't really know me. I couldn't help him while he was alive… but I can at least help him this way."