Max had been wondering when the street gang would make their next move, where, and how.

Would they wait for the weekend? Show up at the gym again?

He figured they'd gotten a vague description from the students they'd attacked. Maybe even from Dipter himself. But it wouldn't be from Juvie directly, not just anyone could visit someone locked up in there.

Which meant one thing:

The Rejected Corps still didn't know who Max really was.

His real identity was still safe.

****

"That's the guy?" Jay said, stepping forward, fire already burning behind his eyes. "He's the one that did that to Joe? And he's just standing there like nothing happened?"

Jay clenched his fists. "We need to teach him a lesson, right now."

Max didn't move at first. He was still processing.

They showed up here… right in front of the school. Middle of the day. Students around. Witnesses everywhere. Either they don't care about the consequences, or… they didn't come to fight.

"Wait, Jay." Max reached out and stopped him with a hand on the shoulder, stepping in front.

"Let's hear him out."

He turned to Dud, his voice steady.

"You came here to talk, right? To me?"

Dud grinned wide, his eyes scanning the students nearby like he was sizing up prey.

"I can feel it," he said. "The air around you guys, it's different. Confident. I got fooled before, thought that other kid was the real deal, but now I get it."

He pointed at Max.

"It's you. You're the one who took down Dipter."

Max didn't flinch.

"Just me," he said plainly. "The others came along for the ride."

Dud let out a snickering laugh through clenched teeth.

"You remind me of myself," he said. "And believe me, I'd love to test that mouth of yours."

His grin faded slightly, voice dropping lower.

"But since I've confirmed you're the one the boss wants… I've got orders. I need to bring you in."

He tilted his head.

"Of course, I'm kinda hoping you say no."

He smiled again, dark and dangerous.

"Because then… I get to use more extreme methods."

Jay stepped forward, standing tall beside Max. He didn't say anything at first, but his presence said enough.

This guy's with me. If you try anything, you're not walking away.

Even if Dud was from a street gang, even if he was an adult, did he seriously think he could take on a whole school's worth of delinquents alone?

Max took a breath, then spoke.

"I'll come with you," he said calmly, eyes locked on Dud. "To meet your boss."

Jay immediately moved, placing himself between them, almost instinctively, his body tense, ready.

"Max, are you sure about this?" he asked. "Right now, he's alone. But if you go with him… that's his territory. I should at least come with you."

Max shook his head.

He couldn't afford to let the Billion Bloodline get dragged into a war, not now. Not when they were still growing. Not when they were still far weaker than the Rejected Corps.

The others wouldn't handle it. Not yet.

Joe getting hurt had already ignited something dangerous in all of them. And Max knew, if a fight broke out now, they'd go too far. Or not far enough.

Max had to be the one to handle this.

From experience, he knew: street gangs didn't go to this much trouble just to beat someone senseless. They wanted something. And the best way to figure that out, was to go with them.

"I've got this," Max said, reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out a sleek business card and handed it to Jay.

"Take this."

Jay looked at it, confused.

"If you don't hear from me soon, call this person. Tell him everything. This guy's height. His clothes. His voice. The car we leave in. Everything."

Max's tone dropped, firm.

"You've met him before. He's reliable."

This wasn't like last time. Back then, when the old Max got taken, he had no backup. No money. No access. But now? Aron had access to funds through Warma. Emergency tracking. Contingency plans. Max wasn't walking into this blind. He was walking in prepared.

Jay didn't like it. Not one bit. But he let Max pass, and followed his instructions.

Max walked calmly behind Dud, who turned to glance back at the students lingering near the gates. That same twisted grin spread across his face as his eyes lingered on them, like he was daring anyone else to try something.

Soon, Max climbed into a black car with him.

Nothing special. No tinted windows. No armored plates. Just an ordinary car, like any civilian might drive.

And just like that, they were on the road, heading deeper into the unknown.

****

"You the one who showed up at the gym the other day?" Max asked, staring out the window as the city passed them by.

"I was," Dud replied without hesitation. "Made a little mistake, though. I was after you, but no one fit the description."

He chuckled, unfazed.

"But I knew this much, they had to be strong enough to beat Dipter. So I figured I'd test them myself."

His eyes flicked toward Max.

"Guess I was wrong. Was one of them your friend? You wanna get revenge or something?" He smirked. "If it's a fight you want, I'd love that."

Max didn't react. Didn't blink. His silence said more than words.

"So," he said instead, cool and focused, "why does your boss want to meet me?"

Dud shrugged. "How should I know? I don't ask questions. I follow orders."

He leaned back in his seat.

"Dipter was strong. You beat him. That's all the boss needed to hear. Me? I still think you're just a dumb student playing tough."

****

Eventually, the car slowed and pulled into a narrow side street, parking beside a warehouse. It wasn't anything impressive. A large steel structure, its outer walls rusted and cracked, like it had been forgotten by time.

Max looked around.

"This your base?" he asked. "Kind of an odd spot."

"Nah," Dud replied. "Just a quick stop. Got some business to handle before we see the boss."

From behind the warehouse, a large black truck rolled into view, and stopped. The back swung open with a loud metallic clang.

Several men jumped out, all wearing camo pants and berets, just like Dud. Their boots hit the pavement in sync. No words exchanged. Just the click of gloves tightening and weapons being checked. Dud stepped out of the car.

"We've got a little gang war on our hands," he said, cracking his neck. "Figured you could use a front-row seat."