From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 732: Using Your Head

It wasn’t the first time Wolf had been stabbed in his life. Working as the leader of a street gang during his rise through the underworld, he had been through this exact situation a few times before.

However, a concealed weapon was a dangerous variable. If a fighter knew they were going up against an armed opponent, they would usually tweak their fighting style to compensate, but he had never fought against someone who hid a retractable blade in the very tip of their boots.

Thankfully, because the mechanism needed to remain hidden inside the footwear, the blade protruding from the toe was rather small. The cut wasn’t too deep into the muscles of Wolf’s arm, and with the adrenaline surging through his system, he could still move it without losing function.

A wound is still a wound, though, Wolf calculated internally, his eyes tracking his opponent. As the fight drags on, the blood loss is going to affect my reaction time. If he keeps tagging me with those hidden blades, it’s going to get exponentially harder to win this.

That wasn’t the only thing worrying Wolf—it was the erratic, deceptive fighting style of the assassin standing across from him. Two unexpected tricks had already landed, and there was a high probability the kid had more hidden up his sleeve. If there was one specific type of opponent Wolf’s Vow powers didn’t work well against, it was a wild card who relied on hidden gimmicks and misdirection.

Still, maybe it was for the best that he was the one taking on this specific threat instead of the less experienced Rangers.

The young assassin suddenly charged in, throwing a sharp kick aimed directly at the arm he had already sliced open. Knowing he couldn’t block it with the hidden blade active, Wolf ducked beneath the arc. But almost as if he had predicted the evasion, the youngster instantly drove a heavy knee upward, targeting Wolf’s face.

Just in time, Wolf brought both hands up to absorb the impact, catching the knee and pushing off the ground with all his weight. He managed to unbalance the young assassin slightly, but before he could capitalize, another shower of flung coins blocked his vision.

Immediately following the distraction, a roundhouse kick came whipping toward his head. The only defensive option left was for Wolf to raise his open palm to catch the foot. As the hit connected, the hidden blade at the tip of the boot drove straight through the palm of his hand, slicing it open. Wolf yanked his hand back, spinning on his heel and sweeping his legs in a wide perimeter just in case the assassin tried to close in for a execution strike.

The young man didn’t push forward, though. He simply stepped back, a cold, playful smile stretching across his face.

Right. None of these Black Hand members are just smart—they’re insanely skilled, exceptionally strong, and far heavier hitters than they look, Wolf realized, his hand dripping blood onto the stone. The hidden weapons aren’t the only dangerous thing about this kid.

”Didn’t you already use that coin trick?” Wolf said, keeping his tone casual despite the stinging pain. ”You should be careful. If you throw too many coins, you’re going to end up tossing out more money than you’re getting paid for this hit.”

The young assassin pulled a single coin from his pocket, flipped it between his fingers, and snapped it straight at Wolf’s face. Wolf caught the metal coin mid-air with his good hand, but as he did, he saw the youngster closing the distance at full speed. Reading the trajectory, Wolf planted his foot, made a tight fist, and threw a heavy counter straight toward the assassin’s jaw.

The punch landed solidly, but the young man had anticipated the blow. Taking the hit on the chin, he used the force to spin his entire body, whipping his leg out and slicing the hidden blade across the top of Wolf’s thigh.

It wasn’t a deep stab this time, but a long, clean laceration across the muscle.

Wolf knew a thigh wound was lethal if it cut the artery, but thankfully, this cut was on the outer quad and missed the vital vessels. Still, instead of staying in close quarters, Wolf quickly disengaged and pulled back to reset his distance.

The cuts were piling up way too fast. He wasn’t like Joe—his body didn’t possess a rapid regeneration factor to mend sliced flesh on the fly. Every single cut was going to slow him down, degrade his mobility, and bleed him out.

He came to a stark realization.

”I was honestly trying to get out of this fight in one piece, but it’s pretty clear I can’t play it safe anymore,” Wolf declared, wiping the blood from his hand onto his trousers. ”I should have known better and trusted my own instincts when I first saw you. You really are an S-rank fighter.”

”You actually thought you could walk away unscathed just because you thought I was some kid?” the young assassin replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.

”Well, judging by the way you fight, I’m guessing your young appearance is just another trick, and you’re actually a lot older than you look. But none of that really matters now, does it?”

Wolf reached into the inner lining of his golden-trimmed blazer with his uninjured hand. When he withdrew it, his five fingers were fitted with a sleek, metallic claw apparatus, the reinforced alloy extending into long, razor-sharp elongated talons.

”I’ve never actually fought with the Gilt Rats’ tech before, but their lab team said they forged something special just for me,” Wolf said, flexing the clawed digits as the metal gleamed in the light. ”The thing is, I have no clue how to fight with these yet, or how well I’ll perform. It’s an unknown variable. But if I keep fighting the way I have been, it’s pretty obvious I’m going to lose. So I have to change up the game, right?”