The sight that met Darno's eyes was brutal. He had seen fights before, more than his fair share of them. He'd been in plenty himself. He'd seen staff members lose their tempers during sparring and accidentally go too far. He'd even seen bones break. But this… this was something else entirely.
Johna lay sprawled near the shattered sink, blood smearing across the tiles beneath his head. His face was swollen, cut open in several places, and his jaw hung slightly askew. Mateo was slumped halfway inside a broken stall, conscious but barely moving, his hands twitching uselessly against the floor as if his body had forgotten how to stand.
Darno's jaw tightened. "Who… who could have done this?"
It couldn't have been him. It couldn't have been that kid.
But there had only been one person Johna and Mateo had set their sights on. One person who had walked away from this hallway, calm as ice, with blood staining his knuckles.
There's no way… He's just some student. Some company rep. No kid could be that cruel.
And yet, deep down, Darno knew.
He rubbed the back of his neck. A normal representative able to do something like this, it doesn't make sense. Is he hiding something? Or… is he something else entirely?
Darno let out a slow breath. Maybe it was better he hadn't gone after the boy himself. Maybe, just maybe, he'd dodged a bullet.
The days that followed brought sweeping changes.
Large cranes rolled in, and workers in high-vis vests were up on ladders, replacing every Fortis Group logo on the building's glass façade with the sharp new emblem of the Billion Bloodline Group. The sleek armored uniforms were redistributed, this time stamped with the crimson blood-drop insignia on the chest and shoulders.
It wasn't just the guards either. Every employee, from the canteen staff to the receptionists, now wore a uniform trimmed with black and crimson. New banners hung in the courtyard. The sign over the main gate now read:
Billion Bloodline Special Service
Whispers spread fast. The official company email announced the full takeover, and even those who didn't know the details could see the truth in front of their eyes.
Not everyone was happy. Some staff had been cut, especially those from redundant administrative departments, and that sent ripples through the building. Guards who had relationships with the fired staff muttered bitterly during lunch. A few desks in the marketing office sat ominously empty.
Max didn't mind. If anything, it worked in his favor. It trimmed down bloated numbers.
As for Johna and Mateo… they never came back.
The announcement of their "resignations" was buried in a general HR memo about restructuring. To most of the staff, it seemed they had simply left because they didn't like the changes. Only Darno knew the truth. He hadn't told anyone.
"Damn it!"
Darno yelped as his toe smashed against the edge of his bedframe. He hopped on one leg, clutching his foot.
"This damned tiny room is driving me insane!" He kicked the bed in frustration, then collapsed onto it with a groan. "I can't believe they gave my room to that smug little representative! Ever since he got here, things have just been getting worse and worse."
He glared around the cramped dorm space. The whole place felt like it was shrinking around him.
His eyes landed on the uniform hanging from the wardrobe door. The sleek, soft-plated armor that once bore the proud Fortis crest now gleamed with the crimson fang logo of the Billion Bloodline.
He stared at it for a long moment. "Why would a so-called 'representative' choose to live here?" he muttered. "And why is he just… a kid? I want to hit him so badly, but I can't do anything. I've never even heard of this Billion Bloodline Group before."
Darno had tried searching online the night before, but it was like the group didn't exist. No public website. No social media. No records.
So, now, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
Growing up, he hadn't been the only fighter in his school. He had stayed in touch with plenty of the others, bouncers, mercenaries, gym trainers, even a few underground circuit fighters. If anyone had heard rumors of this mysterious "Bloodline" group, it would be them.
His thumbs flew over the screen. Hey. You guys ever heard of a group called the Billion Bloodline? Can't find anything online. Might be a front or something. Any info helps.
He hit send, blasting the message to all of them, then tossed the phone aside.
"If I can't find anything online," he grumbled, "they're sure to find something. Then I can figure out who the hell that kid really is."
Before he could brood any further, the building-wide PA system crackled to life.
"Would all combat personnel please report to the training hall immediately."
There was a sharp beep, followed by a pause, then:
"If you are later than three minutes… your pay will be docked."
Darno sighed in relief despite himself. At least one good thing had come out of this chaos, none of their high-paying salaries had changed. That was the only reason he hadn't quit yet.
He pulled on his boots, grabbed his ID, and left his phone behind on the bed. They weren't allowed to carry them during company hours.
As he stomped down the hallway, he muttered under his breath, "Man, man… how can they even do stuff like this? Is any of it even legal? Crapping hell. I swear, something stupid better not happen today, otherwise I'm going to lose it."
His voice faded as he disappeared around the corner, heading for the training hall.
A few moments later, his phone buzzed silently on the bed.
Then buzzed again.
A new message glowed on the screen:
"Hey, not sure if it's related, but there's a group called the Bloodline Group that came out of nowhere."
"If they're the same people… Darno, don't mess with them. Even you shouldn't mess with them."