CHAPTER 260: A WIN IS A WIN

Max exhaled deeply as he let go of Dud’s head, just in time to drive his knee with full force into his face.

Everything he had held in, every ounce of frustration, anger, and pain from everything he had been put through, was unleashed in that single devastating blow.

And when Dud’s head snapped back, it was almost like the world slowed down.

Max could see every detail, how his crooked nose twisted even further, how his front teeth flew from his mouth mid-impact, and how Dud’s eyes rolled lifelessly into the back of his head.

Then came the fall.

Dud’s body hit the ground with a sickening bounce, his skull tapping once against the floor before his entire frame lay still. Frozen. Motionless. Blood smeared the concrete in more than one place, painting a picture of undeniable defeat.

He wasn’t getting back up. Not this time.

Max, panting heavily, pressed a hand against his side, applying pressure to the deep wound. His arm was a mess, trembling and covered in blood. Though he had won the fight, he knew he couldn’t go on much longer. His body screamed at him to rest.

’Jay... I hope you saw that,’ Max thought to himself, eyes squinting against the pain. ’I finally got a piece of payback for what he did to you. But... I know it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to settle the debt we carry.’

While Max remained hunched over, his strength waning, several nearby Black Hound members saw an opening.

"The guy can barely stand! We have to get him now!" one of them shouted, already charging forward.

"What are you waiting for? He’s right!" the manager barked from behind. "Take him out now!"

The manager was visibly shaken. He couldn’t understand it. How had the young Max Stern, just a kid in his eyes, managed to take down Dud, one of their top fighters? Dud was more experienced, more ruthless. It shouldn’t have happened. But it had.

Chaos was erupting, and the manager knew this was bigger than just a scuffle, it was something that needed to be reported.

Three Black Hounds rushed in at Max.

But they didn’t make it.

A shadow lunged into view. A pair of hands grabbed two of the attackers by their faces and slammed them into the ground like ragdolls. The concrete cracked beneath the force.

The manager’s eyes widened.

It was Wolf, the man who had entered earlier and remained on the sidelines until now.

With a single motion, Wolf spun and struck the third attacker twice in the head. The poor man’s skull ricocheted between Wolf’s fists like a ball caught between two hammers before he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"My time of staying out of this is over," Wolf said, voice calm but laced with menace. "If anyone else comes near this kid, they’ll answer to me."

He glanced over his shoulder at Max, whose eyes were only half open now.

"You did it, Max. You got me to put my full trust in you going forward. You went up against the odds, and I was here to witness it. You’re definitely someone worth betting on."

This, this was what Wolf needed to see. A person who could defy the odds, fight tooth and nail, and still stand tall at the end. That kind of person could become something much greater.

Wolf had always liked keeping the Pit as a street-level operation, simple, fast, and raw. He had no desire to turn it into a syndicate or an organization. But now... maybe he had found the one person he could follow to take it to the next level.

As the manager stepped back, dread settling into his chest, he realized something chilling.

There were no fighters left.

All the Black Hound combatants had fallen.

Hawk was sprawled across the dirt, unmoving. Sniper had collapsed near the back, and Elephant’s massive body hit the ground like thunder, deep gashes covering every exposed part of his body, even his back.

Panicked, the manager fumbled for his phone. But before he could make the call, a blade flew through the air with perfect precision and pinned the device to the wall.

"You’re not calling anyone," Aron declared coldly as he stepped forward. "You and your crew nearly got the young master killed today."

Now, the only one left from the Black Hounds who was still standing was the manager himself. And he had never imagined he’d find himself in this position.

Wolf made his way to Max and quickly slipped a shoulder under him just in time, Max’s knees gave out, and he nearly collapsed completely.

"You know, I want to congratulate you," Wolf said, helping Max stay upright, "but it feels wrong, considering what this means. With what you’ve done today, you’ve made enemies out of both the Chalkline Boys and the Rejected Corps."

"I don’t think we have to worry about the Rejected Corps..." Max replied, voice barely a whisper. "From what Dud said... he was working with the Chalkline Boys. He betrayed them..."

"And as for the Black Hounds... I think we can... leave that... to, "

His words faltered. His eyelids fluttered. And then, just like that, Max slipped away from Wolf’s shoulder and collapsed.

Wolf caught him immediately, grabbing his good arm and pulling him upright. The weight in his grip told him everything he needed to know.

"The kid actually passed out," Wolf muttered. "With all the pain he was in, all the injuries... he must’ve been holding on by a thread. But a win is a win."

Right then, Steven arrived, and Wolf gently transferred Max into the care of Steven and Joe, letting them hold him up on either side.

Wolf took one last glance at Max, then turned and looked behind him.

"I believe there’s someone I need to make sure doesn’t slip away," he said, eyes narrowing. "You weren’t thinking of running off, were you?"

His gaze locked onto Chad, who stood frozen under Wolf’s looming presence.