It was currently a strange, tense period for the Billion Bloodline Group. At the moment, Max had decided to put a complete hold on expanding, and that freeze was felt in all avenues of the business. The gangs weren’t continuing to expand their reach around Notting Hill, and the merchandise sales, although still performing well, lacked the added benefit and momentum they usually gained every time a new gym opened in a fresh area.
Max’s decision wasn’t made out of a lack of ambition, but out of necessity. He had figured that with all of the information currently floating around at their fingertips, his opponents would have surely figured out the truth by now. They would know that the Bloodline Group of the streets and the Billion Bloodline investment group were one and the same.
His enemies, be that the Black Hounds, the Gilt Rats, or a combined alliance of the two, would undoubtedly know this secret. It was no longer the time to expand and spread themselves thin, leaving pockets of their organization vulnerable to surgical strikes. It also wasn’t the time for Max to spend any extra money on growth. Stretching out would only make them a clearer target, and Max was expecting a retaliation or an all-out attack at any moment.
Instead of growing outward, he had done quite the opposite. Max had recalled his key members. The strong fighters from his high school days, those who had been spread out to manage the business taken from the Chalkline Boys and the Rejected Corps, had been brought back into the fold at the Fortis Group. They were going to be integrated into the private security team for a while, training alongside the professionals to sharpen their edges.
Max had also set up a contingency plan. He established a specific code word that would be sent out to the captains if things went south. If that word was sent, they were all instructed to immediately drop what they were doing and head to the Fortis Building, which had now been officially rebranded as the Billion Bloodline Building.
Max knew he had to focus on the core members of the group. If he couldn’t generate massive new revenue streams currently and couldn’t find a way to significantly increase his own personal strength in this short window, then he needed to focus on elevating the fighters around him. If he couldn’t get stronger, his team would.
To start this process, he called a quick meeting with the members of the Rangers.
"Has he become an unofficial Ranger now?" Joe asked, his voice filled with a bit of skepticism as he pointed toward Darno.
"Darno has become a key part of our strength, kind of like Na," Max said, his voice level. "But I wouldn’t put them on the same level as a Ranger just yet. That’s why I haven’t given them any colors."
"Oh, colors?" Darno chimed in, leaning forward with interest. "Right, you guys wear those jackets with the special colors. Hey, if I get a color, can I get pink? I really like pink. It suits my style."
At the same time, Joe and Stephen turned to him and gave him the most intense stares of their lives.
"No," they said in perfect unison, their voices flat.
"Anyway, what I wanted to talk to you all about was this," Max said, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. He reached down and placed both of the exoskeleton arms that had been retrieved from the Gilt Rats on the table. The metallic components clattered against the surface, looking both high-tech and menacing.
"I’ve tested the items myself, and I can tell you they are extremely powerful. They provide a massive boost to your speed and strength. Also, because the frame surrounds your arm, it reinforces the muscles and joints. It stops your bones and body from breaking down under the pressure of using that much power," Max explained.
He leaned back, his expression grim. "I gave them to some of the tech department heads at the Fortis Group, and they were baffled. They said they had never seen anything like it. They wouldn’t be able to replicate this technology even if they truly wanted to. It’s lightyears ahead of what we have. There is a chance the Gilt Rats have a lot of these to hand out to their foot soldiers. If they do, we need to get stronger just to keep up. I’m wondering who is the best person to hand these over to in order to increase our overall power."
Aron had already relinquished his claim to the items, so he wasn’t going to take them up. That left Na, Darno, Joe, Stephen, and Wolf in the room as the potential candidates capable of wielding the gear.
"I don’t need them," Na said, crossing his arms over his chest. "My body is already strong through my own training. Although the speed boost would help, I want to focus on beating those who use these items with my own natural strength. I don’t want to rely on a crutch."
Na, having lost his previous fight to someone using these very items, probably knew how handy they were more than anyone else in the room. His refusal was a matter of pride.
"Why don’t you take them for yourself, boss?" Darno asked, looking at Max. "I mean, I know you’re already incredibly skilled, but for someone like you, the boost should be insane, right?"
"I thought about it," Max replied honestly. "But the positive effect it would have on me would be less compared to the boost it would give you guys. Your special traits make you excel in one specific area while lacking in others. My growth is more of an overall, balanced boost. Because of that, it’s better to use these to boost your other stats or cover your specific weaknesses."
"In that department, I think it’s the same for me," Wolf added, shaking his head. "My style doesn’t really suit these. So that just leaves the three of you."
Joe wasn’t going to lie to himself; he really wanted the items. He could imagine the power he would have with reinforced arms. But as the room fell silent between the three candidates, he realized something. Stephen was quiet, which meant Stephen wanted them as well. Joe felt a pang of loyalty; he owed a lot to Stephen for teaching him everything he knew about fighting and survival.
"I’ll give them up as well," Joe said, breaking the silence. "Although they would help me, my primary trait is greater healing. It would be the same situation as with the rest of you. It’s better in the hands of someone who can use the raw power."
When looking at the group now, there were only two potential owners left.
"If we can’t decide through talk, then I thought the best thing would be for the two of you to have a match against each other," Max suggested. "A clean sparring session. The winner takes the items."
That’s when Darno unexpectedly raised his hand.
"No need," Darno said, looking at Stephen. "I owe this one. He kicked Jett right when Jett was going to kill me. If he hadn’t stepped in, I wouldn’t be standing here. He can have them. Besides, I think they would work best in his hands anyway."
Stephen paused, looking at Darno for a moment before nodding in respect. He walked forward and looked down at the exoskeletons on the table. He reached down, and with practiced movements, he began to fit the metallic frames onto his arms. They hissed slightly as they pressurized, locking onto his limbs.
"Can I... test them out?" Stephen asked, his eyes glowing with a new, dangerous intensity.