CHAPTER 275: A LEADER’S VERDICT

Every single member of the Rejected Corps received the same message.

No one was given context. No one was offered an explanation. It wasn’t like the message Chrono had gotten, there were no details, no warnings, just five simple, loaded words.

Max has betrayed us.

That was all Dud had sent.

But he didn’t need to say more. He knew the group, knew exactly how they’d react. From the beginning, the Rejected Corps had been built on loyalty, forged through hardship and struggle. They weren’t the type to forgive quickly. They weren’t the type to forget easily. And they never trusted outsiders.

Max had never fit their mold. He didn’t come from their world, hadn’t bled for the same reasons. The very idea that they’d have to rely on someone like him, some school kid with no real roots in the underworld, had rubbed many the wrong way.

The only reason they ever gave him a chance at all was because the order came from Chrono. And when Chrono spoke, they listened.

But ever since Max had been brought into their ranks, it had felt like the entire operation had started revolving around him. Extra attention. Extra protection. Special treatment. And now, confirmation. The same suspicion they’d buried for weeks had finally come to light.

He had betrayed them.

The simmering frustration that had been bubbling beneath the surface exploded the moment the message hit. All across the base, the tension broke like a dam. Soldiers rose from their seats, voices shouting over one another, chairs scraping against the floor as anger pulsed through the air.

"That damn little shit! How dare he!" one of them shouted, nearly flipping over his tray of food.

"I knew this was gonna happen!" another barked, his fists clenched at his sides. "Chrono let him do whatever he wanted, gave him freedom none of us ever had, and look what it got us! Now he thinks he’s too good for us. Too big

for us!"

"Where even is Dud?" someone else asked, eyes darting toward the entrance of the hangar as if expecting him to walk through it at any moment. "He’s not answering calls. Maybe he’s already out there, hunting the damn kid down himself."

The noise grew louder, angrier, a mob starting to form not just in body, but in voice. Words like traitor and punishment were being thrown around with no one stepping in to calm them.

And then one voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey... the girl," a soldier said darkly. "That girl’s still here, right? Max’s little hostage? Maybe it’s time we reminded everyone what happens when someone crosses the Rejected Corps."

A hush fell for a moment, the energy shifting from anger to something colder. More dangerous.

"Yeah," someone else murmured, eyes narrowing. "We need to do something. Make an example. So no one ever thinks about doing this again."

The atmosphere at the base had shifted, charged, volatile, like dry grass waiting for a single spark to ignite. The troops were riling each other up, feeding off one another’s anger until it became something almost feral. And even Na, who usually held enough weight to keep the others in check, found himself standing in the middle of a rising storm.

Not that he was even sure he wanted to stop it.

Across the base, the shouting was rising to a dull roar, and in another part of the compound, Chrono sat at his desk, shoulders tense, his gaze locked on his screen. He was still trying to wrap his head around Dud’s message, still trying to figure out what his next move should be.

Blissfully unaware of the chaos beginning to brew just outside his door.

That was, until he heard it.

Boots. Heavy, synchronized footsteps. Dozens of them. Men moving together, their faces twisted with frustration and fury. They weren’t coming in with questions, they were coming in with a purpose. A shared rage.

Chrono’s brows furrowed as he looked up from his desk.

Great. Just what I needed.

His jaw tightened as he rose slowly from his chair. I already have too much on my plate, and now they’re marching around like they’re about to riot? What now?

He didn’t have to ask. The moment they stepped into view, their voices answered everything.

The yelling hit him like a wave.

"Max betrayed us!"

"He played us all!"

"Chrono, what are we doing just sitting here?!"

Some of them were even holding up their phones, waving the message like it was proof of a personal crime. Chrono’s stomach sank.

Dud... you sent that message to the entire group? What are you trying to do? Are you trying to tear this whole organization apart?

It was like watching years of work unravel at the seams.

And to make things worse, Dud wasn’t even here to explain himself. No clarification. No support. Just chaos in his wake.

But before things could spiral completely out of control, one figure stepped forward through the crowd, calm, composed, but with a fire in his eyes that made the others fall quiet.

Na.

He raised a hand, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "The rest of you, stay here. Don’t crowd around the General."

He turned and gave them a look that could have frozen fire.

"I’ll make sure our frustrations are heard. Don’t worry about that."

There was no argument. The others stood down, taking a step back, their eyes now shifting toward Na with trust and expectation. He was their anchor in this moment, perhaps the only one left.

Na walked toward Chrono, each step measured but firm. Chrono watched him carefully, and though he trusted Na more than most, it wasn’t blind trust. He respected Na because he was honest, because he didn’t always agree with him, didn’t pretend to.

And that was what made this moment all the more tense.

Because even someone as level-headed as Na could be pushed too far.

Chrono’s mind flashed back to the truth at the core of the Rejected Corps: every single member here had once been cast out from some other military unit, labeled too unstable, too unpredictable, too dangerous. This group was built from broken pieces, and the cracks had always been there.

Now they were starting to show.

"Chrono," Na said, stepping forward with authority in his voice. "We’ve all heard the news, about Max’s betrayal. Whether it’s true or not doesn’t even matter anymore."

The crowd behind him stood in silent agreement, their faces set with hardened expressions. Na continued, unwavering.

"Max has caused too much trouble. Too many distractions. And the fact is, he’s not even here to speak for himself. He’s not here to defend his actions or explain his choices. He’s already tried to go against you once, Chrono. You gave him a chance, and he spat in your face."

Chrono listened, his jaw tight, but he didn’t interrupt. Not yet.

"My suggestion," Na went on, "is simple. It’s time for you to remind all of us why you are the one leading the Rejected Corps. Max can no longer be part of this group. He’s crossed a line, and since he’s not here to face judgment himself... then someone needs to be punished in his place. Something big. Something that sends a message."

Meanwhile, across the compound, in the far side of the base, Wolf and Abby remained locked inside their cold metal container. For a while now, the guards who usually stood posted outside had disappeared, drawn toward the noise and tension echoing through the camp.

Curious, the two moved toward the front of the container, pressing close to the vented slits of the reinforced door. Outside, they could see the movement, people marching past, eyes burning with purpose. The sounds were louder now, and Na’s voice carried clearly across the courtyard.

They listened, confused and anxious, the name Max repeated more times than they could count.

"What’s going on out there?" Abby whispered, glancing nervously at Wolf.

"I don’t know," he replied, squinting through the slit, "but it’s not good."

Back in Chrono’s office, the tension was suffocating. He rose slowly from behind his desk, his eyes locked on Na’s. Then, he turned his gaze to the crowd just beyond, the Rejected Corps. His people.

Max had meant something to him. Chrono had seen potential in the boy, had taken a risk. But the truth was clear: Max was not more important than the unity of the Corps. Not more important than Na. Not more important than the men and women who had bled for this cause.

If Chrono wanted to keep control, if he wanted to hold this fractured family together, then there was only one path forward.

He had to show strength. Even if it meant blood.

Chrono raised his hand, his voice sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

"Max... will no longer be a member of the Rejected Corps from this moment forward!" he declared, his voice ringing out with finality. "And to show the world, and anyone else watching, that we are not a group to be taken lightly... we will send him a message."

He paused, just long enough for the silence to stretch.

"We will kill the girl."