From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 70: No One Attack’s Us

The group watched as the gang members slowly closed in, smiles wide, weapons in hand, and dark chuckles rumbling from their throats.

Memories from every crime movie they’d ever seen came flooding into their minds. The setting, the atmosphere, it all felt too real.

If their bodies were dealt with in a place like this, it could be weeks before anyone found them, if anyone found them at all.

”Hey, kid, you do have a plan, right?” Steven whispered urgently. ”Right? You knew there was a chance they’d turn on us when you mentioned having that kind of money?”

”Yeah,” Max said calmly. ”I have a plan.”

Steven and Joe both exhaled in relief.

”The plan is you guys,” Max added, glancing at them. ”You’re my guards, remember?”

That was not the plan they’d been hoping for.

And it was already too late. The Pit members charged in.

Steven moved on instinct. As a gang member swung a metal pipe down toward him, Steven quickly raised his arms, and launched a fist straight into the guy’s face.

The pipe slipped from the man’s hand, clattering harmlessly to the side as Steven stepped in and drove a hard punch deep into his stomach.

”Hitting these guys compared to students? Yeah, I don’t think I’ll feel as bad!” Steven yelled.

”Help me!” Joe shouted, ducking just in time as a brick flew past his head. He scrambled backward, only to realize two more gang members were chasing after him, reaching out to grab him.

As Joe sprinted around the area, he was quick on his feet—dodging punches, ducking under swings, weaving between gang members with surprising agility.

”Well, if there’s one thing he’s got going for him, it’s his cardio,” Steven muttered. ”But hey, at least it’s a good distraction!”

Using the moment, Steven turned to punch another gang member in the side of the head—but this one wasn’t like the last.

The gang member lifted a solid forearm and blocked the hit entirely.

Not all of them were going to be easy targets.

Wolf watched the scene unfold from his seat, eyes narrowing with interest. He hadn’t expected much from the newcomers, but now he was intrigued.

”The man in red clearly knows how to fight,” Wolf mumbled to himself. ”I wonder what he’s doing hanging around the rest of them... is he their uncle or something? Should I report him to the police?”

Meanwhile, Joe, still running, knew he couldn’t avoid the fight forever.

As one of the Pit members charged him, Joe leapt forward, slamming his foot straight into the person’s gut. It knocked the attacker back, but Joe stumbled too, crashing to the ground and rolling as another came in swinging.

He scrambled to his feet, only to realize he’d been backed into one of the rusted-out metal car frames.

”This isn’t good... this isn’t good!” Joe panicked.

The group moved in, fists swinging.

Joe turtled up, twisting his body just as one of the punches missed and slammed into the metal frame behind him with a loud clang. The others hit their mark, but he managed to shield his face, taking the blows to his arms and sides.

”Hey, he’s a quick learner!” Steven shouted mid-fight. ”I only taught him for a day and he’s already using everything I taught him!”

He paused, shifting his focus away from the opponent in front of him, someone who, somehow, was still standing despite taking a heavy beating. Instead, Steven moved in toward Joe, launching a swift uppercut into one of the gang members who had been relentlessly attacking him.

Then he spun and threw a fist toward another, only to stop just short of the guy’s face.

”How about... you join the gym?” Steven asked with a grin.

The Pit member, stunned for a second, suddenly retaliated, swinging at Steven with wild punches.

But Steven dodged them with ease, pivoting, swaying, and weaving like a pro.

”You’re talented, I mean it!” Steven added, ducking under a punch. ”And hey, if you do join the gym, I’ll take care of this guy for you!”

”Yes, yes, yes!” Joe yelled as he scrambled out of the way. ”I’ll join!”

From his position, Max had been keeping a close eye on everything.

Steven really was strong, in every sense. Not once had he been hit, despite all the attackers coming for him. And Joe... well, Joe was less useless than Max had expected.

Still, they were fighting against people who knew how to fight. This wasn’t some schoolyard scuffle.

Which meant one thing, they couldn’t afford to underestimate them.

The ones Steven had hit, guys who had looked like they were down for the count, were now starting to get back up.

They shook off the blows, steadying themselves, ready to go for round two.

And since there were plenty of them... not all of their attention was on Steven and Joe.

Two of the Pit members broke from the group, weapons in hand, charging straight toward Max.

But as they ran, Wolf noticed something strange.

Why... why isn’t he afraid? Wolf thought. He’s not even looking at the fight. He’s looking at me. He’s been staring at me this whole time.

He didn’t know the reason, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

Just as the two attackers closed in on Max, a figure stepped in front of them, swiftly, almost as if he had appeared from nowhere.

It was Aron.

In one fluid motion, he lifted his leg and slammed it sideways into the first attacker’s kneecap, causing the man to scream out in pain.

As the second one swung an iron bar downward, Aron dodged to the side, grabbed the man’s arm, extended it fully, and with a brutal twist downward, used all his weight to crush the elbow. The crack echoed through the air, followed by a howl of agony.

The second attacker rushed in, enraged by the sight of his ally being maimed.

Aron reached into his suit and calmly pulled out his baton.

In a flash, he swung it, knocking the incoming iron weapon aside. Then, shifting his stance, he brought the baton down hard on the attacker’s arm, hitting so forcefully that the weapon clattered to the floor.

Without a second of hesitation, Aron struck again, this time into the man’s ribs. The attacker grunted, instinctively lowering his arms to cover his side.

That was all the opening Aron needed.

With a final swing, he smashed the baton upward, right under the man’s chin.

The hit was so strong it lifted the attacker clean off his feet before he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Aron stood still, positioned protectively in front of Max, eyes sharp and posture composed.

”I’ve failed you too many times already,” Aron said quietly. ”But as long as I stand physically at your side, I won’t allow a single person to lay a hand on you, Master.”