CHAPTER 241: PLAYING THE HOUSE

Leaning forward, Max rested both elbows on his thighs, eyes locked on the ring as his mind ran wild. It was a familiar position, one he often took when deep in thought, when the pieces of the puzzle started to click into place.

’I need to figure out how the Black Hounds are going to play this,’ Max thought, his brows slightly furrowed. ’I can guess... but there are still a few variables I can’t control.’

’Just like Chad, they might try to coax me into continuing this gambling streak, maybe tonight, maybe some other time in the future. There’s a chance they’ll fix the fight and let us win, especially since I bet on Sniper...’

’But that’s only a possibility. The amount of money at stake, 100 million, isn’t small. If they have to pay that out, there’s a good chance I’ll just walk away and never come back. They don’t know who I am, not really. They have no idea what kind of person they’re dealing with.’

His eyes drifted up, locking with the manager’s from across the room. The man offered a slow, ambiguous grin. It wasn’t smug, or even friendly, just unreadable. But Max could tell the manager had already drawn his own conclusions. He could see the contrast, two Sterns, but worlds apart. It wasn’t hard to tell who was the gambler, and who was the player.

’Another possibility... the others in this room. Some of them have to know these fights are rigged, right? But then again, if they did, why keep coming back?’

’Maybe the fights are only fixed when Chad’s involved. He’s easy prey. They must’ve tested the waters, found out he had no real backing, not even from the Stern family, and decided to squeeze him dry.’

’And now that Chad’s dropped my name, they might assume the same about me. I thought about asking the others to place a bet for me, maybe even a larger one, but trusting people with money?’ He scoffed inwardly.

’Unlikely. Most of the people here are probably scared of the Black Hounds too. Judging by the crowd, and the fact that I don’t recognize anyone, this doesn’t look like one of their big events. These are locals, disposable nobodies... They’d rather die than go against the Black Hounds.’

Still, there was one saving grace to the entire setup: the group had agreed that the money would be exchanged after the event.

That meant Max’s vow wouldn’t activate yet, not until the money actually changed hands. So even if he did lose, it wouldn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things.

’Funny, isn’t it?’ Max thought, his lips tugging into a tight smile. ’Out of everyone here, the only person I can really count on... is Dud.’

Dud’s personality made him reliable in the most unconventional way. Even if the fight was fixed, Max knew Dud wouldn’t throw the match. He was too prideful, too stubborn for that. In fact, Max was certain that Dud had hinted at exactly that. It was what led him to start planning in the first place.

Still, there was one thing that made Max uneasy, unpredictability. He hated not knowing what move they would make. He wanted to force their hand, to figure out exactly how this would play out before it was too late.

And then it happened, a shift in momentum.

From the corner of his eye, Max saw Hawk suddenly lunge forward, tackling Sniper with full force. The crowd gasped as Hawk slammed Sniper into one of the corners of the ring, smashing his back against the frame with a brutal thud.

Lifting him effortlessly, Hawk swung a massive punch and connected, hard. It landed clean on Sniper’s jaw, sending saliva and blood flying from his mouth.

The audience erupted into cheers. Energy spiked across the room as more and more bets were placed in a frenzy.

"Damn it, damn it!" Chad yelled, nearly knocking over his drink as he jumped from his seat. "You idiot! Just because you were ahead doesn’t mean you can get cocky! You should’ve dodged!"

But just then, Hawk swung another wild, looping punch, this time, Sniper ducked. He rolled out of the corner and, in the same fluid motion, unleashed a flurry of counterattacks.

A whirlwind of blows came flying from Sniper’s long limbs, landing one after another with rapid precision as Hawk stumbled backward.

"Yes! Yes!" Chad shouted, throwing both arms up toward the ceiling.

The adrenaline, the emotional highs and lows, it was obvious why people kept coming back. There was a raw, unfiltered thrill here that couldn’t be replicated anywhere else. It was a dopamine rush, and the entire room was riding the wave.

And that was when the manager struck, timing it perfectly.

He casually approached, his voice cool and measured.

"The fight’s heating up," he said, addressing them with a sly smile. "It seems like it might come to a conclusion soon, so I wanted to ask, would either of you like to place any additional bets?"

The question was clearly aimed at Chad. Everyone knew he was the easier target.

But to the manager’s surprise, it wasn’t Chad who answered.

"Yeah," Max said calmly, his gaze still on the ring. "I’d like to place another bet. Put 50 million more... on Sniper."

Even Chad turned to look at him, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

"...I like your style," he finally said with a grin.

"If that’s what you wish, we’ll arrange it immediately," the manager said, nodding as he pulled out his tablet. He tapped away for a moment and then announced to the room, "Betting is now closed. No further wagers can be placed. I hope you both enjoy the conclusion of the fight... regardless of the outcome."

He turned to walk away, but as he did, the smile on his face vanished.

’What is that boy playing at?’ the manager wondered, glancing back once with a flicker of unease.

Meanwhile, Max’s mind was still moving, still calculating.

’You think you’re the one controlling this whole setup. That you’ve accounted for every variable. But you’re wrong.’

’I’m going to use everything, my mind, my money, my vow, and I’m going to twist this entire event in my favor. You’ll realize too late that the one thing you didn’t prepare for... was me.’