The bloody comment from Darius clearly got under Dipter’s skin. His face twisted in rage, and he pulled his leg back, completely ready to deliver a lethal snap kick straight to the champion’s head until Dud reached out and clamped a heavy hand over his shoulder.
"Your kicks are strong, kid. Don’t waste your energy listening to a guy you just completely broke," Dud stated, his voice level as he pulled the teenager back. "Besides, with how much you’ve already smashed his face in, who knows if another hit will end him. We need to keep these two alive for the next phase of the plan, remember?"
Dud nodded toward a few of their enforcers standing near Donto’s table, and the crew instantly sprang into motion. They sprinted into the ring, quickly pinning Jett’s unconscious body and binding his wrists with heavy tactical zip-ties, before turning around to do the exact same thing to a bleeding Darius.
As the capture was playing out, a few of the regular Black Hounds floor staff tried to step in and protect their bosses. But before they could even draw their weapons, Hugo turned his massive, shadowed gaze toward them. Two guards who pushed forward were kicked in the stomach and taken down in one clean shot, crashing hard against the tables. The rest of the staff instantly backed off, wishing to cause no more disturbance; they were smart enough to calculate that this was a clear loss, no matter how many numbers they threw at the problem.
Within minutes, Jett and Darius were completely bound with reinforced cuffs and heavy nylon straps wrapping around their arms and legs, making sure there was next to no possibility of movement.
"Don’t panic, folks," Dud shouted, turning to the terrified VIP gallery with a casual wave of his hand. "We have already instructed the ship’s captain to alter our course and take us straight back to land. The business we are currently handling doesn’t involve any of you tourists, so you can all just sit tight and be at ease."
Despite his words, the crowd was still completely unsettled and whispering in panic, which was quickly proving to be incredibly annoying to Dud.
"Alright, all of you line up and head to the second floor right now if you don’t want to watch the rest of this," Dud barked, his voice hardening. "When the ship docks, you can get off, but make sure not a single word of tonight’s events gets out to the public. You’re all participating in an illegal underground gambling ring in the first place, and don’t think for a second that our gang doesn’t have ways to dig up personal data on every single one of you."
The wealthy crowd quickly scrambled out of the lounge, terrified of the crossfire. Chad, Bobo, and Karen figured this was their perfect chance to blend into the crowd and escape the ship too—until Donto stepped directly into their path, backed by a couple of menacing, mismatched fighters.
"Not you three. I told you already, didn’t I?" Donto claimed, a cold smirk touching his lips. "Before any of this started, you needed to choose a side. You made it glaringly obvious which faction you decided to back, so you’re going to stay right here. Besides, I think the three of you can be incredibly useful tokens."
"You actually know these guys?" Dud asked, walking over to the couch and sizing up the family members. "Well, I’m already well aware of who that idiot is," he added, pointing a finger at Chad.
"The other two are just the same; they are core members of the Stern family," Donto explained, his posture rigid and arrogant. "And from what I know, both of them have had recent disastrous situations that involved Max."
"Well, this is definitely a massive bonus," Dud muttered, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "My primary target tonight was only supposed to be the two champions, but having this kind of leverage just makes our whole blueprint that much stronger, doesn’t it? Tie them up too."
Bobo, Karen, and Chad were forcefully shoved back onto the leather sofas, their wrists tightly bound with plastic ties before they were forced onto their sides on the soft cushions.
"Why is it that every single time we do something as a family, we manage to land face-first into some type of life-threatening trouble?" Bobo hissed, glaring at her brother.
"Hey, aren’t you just happy that we’re actually doing things together for once?" Chad whispered back, trying to shift his shoulders. "It’s insane situations like this that make our family bond even stronger."
"Chad," Karen said, her voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "I swear I really want to kill you right now. How can you possibly be cracking jokes in a scenario like this?"
"It’s because it’s Donto," Chad whispered back confidently. "He really can’t be thinking of taking the three of us out permanently. If these gangsters actually wanted to kill us, wouldn’t they have done that five minutes ago? The fact that we’re just tied up is definitive proof that we’re fine."
Karen had to admit, Chad’s logic wasn’t entirely wrong. Even Donto wouldn’t be stupid enough to execute three of his own family members so openly in a public venue. Not if he ever wanted to face Grandfather Dennis again—and crossing Dennis was something no member of the Stern family wanted to risk.
"Donto, I honestly can’t believe you’ve fallen this low," Chad called out, shaking his head. "Are you seriously resorting to using common street gangsters to help you fight your battles now?"
"Isn’t it the exact same scenario for you and Max?" Donto shot back, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Don’t talk to me like I’m swallowing my pride. I’m doing what it takes to win."
Just then, Dud’s personal phone began to buzz. He pulled it out, answered quickly, and listened to the voice on the other end, nodding in silence. When the call finally ended, a massive, triumphant smile broke across his face.
"It looks like we just received some exceptionally good news from the outer districts," Dud announced to the room. "Everything is moving exactly according to our expected timeline. Now that we have every single piece of the puzzle in place, we can make sure that we take down not just Max, but his entire Billion Bloodline group with absolutely no trouble at all."
Just as Dud finished his boasting speech, a sharp, loud ring echoed through the quiet observation deck. But it wasn’t coming from any of the gangsters. Instead, the vibration was coming straight from the front pocket of Chad’s jacket.
Dud’s eyes narrowed as he stepped over to the sofa. He reached down into Chad’s pocket, pulled out the glowing smartphone, and looked at the caller ID flashing on the screen.
"Well, now this is incredibly interesting," Dud muttered, a feral grin splitting his face as he pressed the green answer button and brought the phone up to his ear. "Hi there, Max. It’s been a long time."