CHAPTER 313: THE WEIGHT OF A TRIGGER

Although the fighting had all but ended, the Bloodline students didn’t let their guard down. They hovered around the fallen Chalkline Boys and Rejected Corps members, making sure none of them tried to crawl back up.

Anyone who twitched, anyone who even opened an eye too quickly, was immediately met with another blow, forcing them back down. Some of the gangsters might have been faking their injuries, waiting for a chance to strike, but the students weren’t going to take that risk.

The battle was over. And it was overwhelming: the Bloodline Group had won.

But the atmosphere, noisy and restless just moments ago, shifted instantly into a heavy silence the second Chrono pulled something from his jacket.

A gun.

Every student saw it, and a wave of unease ran through them. Their hearts began to pound harder, not from exertion, but from dread.

A gun was something most of them had only ever seen on television, in movies, or in the hands of police officers. None of them had ever faced one in real life, let alone stared down the barrel. They didn’t need experience to understand what it meant. With a single squeeze of Chrono’s finger, someone’s life could end in an instant.

"Is that thing real?" one student whispered. "It can’t be... right? How could they even get something like that?"

"Look at the uniform," another muttered, his voice shaky. "These guys were ex-military... there’s a good chance it’s real."

"Wait..." another voice broke in, more hushed than the others. "Didn’t you hear the rumor about Abby? The way she died... she was shot."

That hit harder than any punch thrown that night.

The Bloodline students had already pieced it together, these people had been behind Jay’s death, and Abby’s as well. But now, staring at the weapon gleaming in Chrono’s grip, that rumor crystallized into truth.

There was no doubt anymore. The gun in Chrono’s hand was real.

Chrono rose slowly from the floor, his grin stretching wider and wider as he aimed the weapon straight at Max.

"Hahaha!" his laughter rang out, high and sharp. "Look at you now! You were running your mouth, talking all that crap before, but now? Now you’re frozen stiff! Come on, where’s that bravery from earlier?"

The Bloodline members held their breath.

But Max... Max didn’t flinch.

Fear didn’t wash over him. Instead, a different fire burned in his chest. Anger.

Was this how Abby felt? The thought seared through his mind. Was this what she saw in her last moments, this same barrel, this same smirk?

He clenched his fists tighter. For him, this wasn’t the first time someone had pulled a gun on him. But in the past, he had always been in more favorable positions. Here, now, it was different.

"You know..." Max said, his voice low but firm, "using a weapon like that, if this gets out, the others won’t let it go."

For the first time, Chrono faltered. His grin flickered, confusion flashing in his eyes.

How did Max know about that? About the unwritten rules of the underworld in this country, rules that even someone like Chrono couldn’t simply ignore?

That wasn’t the kind of thing a kid should know. Shouldn’t they expect every gang to carry weapons like guns? Chrono’s eyes narrowed.

"You think I give a damn about that?" he snarled. "I shot your precious little friend Abby, didn’t I? And I’ll shoot you too. Don’t think I’ll miss. I’m a good shot, Max, I’ve been trained with weapons for a very, very long time!"

Max didn’t waver. His fists clenched tighter. "And what happens then?" he fired back. "You shoot me, and then what? Everyone in this room goes after you. You’ll only have so many bullets before you have to reload. You can’t take out everyone here."

Chrono’s lips curled, and then he erupted into manic laughter. His finger twitched as he suddenly swung the gun toward the crowd.

Some of the students screamed. Others bent down instinctively, flinching, their faces pale with terror.

"DON’T MOVE!" Chrono roared, and the room froze. The fear of that weapon was enough to lock everyone in place.

He sneered at Max. "I guess you’ve never been in a situation like this. Here’s the truth: no one wants to die. Sure, in theory, I could only drop a few of you before I had to reload, and that’d give you a chance to swarm me. But these kids?" He gestured with the gun. "They’re not soldiers. They’re students. None of them are going to risk their lives just to stop me. With this weapon, Max, I control this entire room!"

Max ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He knew if he charged, he’d get shot. Maybe, maybe, he could still make it and land a hit before going down, but Chrono wasn’t some thug. He was trained. He wouldn’t miss. He’d calmly empty every bullet into Max’s chest until he was nothing but a corpse.

This was his second chance. There wouldn’t be a third.

But Abby’s killer stood right in front of him.

He couldn’t just freeze. He couldn’t just do nothing. Because either way, he knew there was a good chance he’d be shot.

So Max made his choice. He gathered every shred of rage, every drop of grief, every ounce of fury and hurled himself forward.

"ARGHHHH!" he roared, sprinting across the floor.

Chrono’s eyes widened. He snapped the gun up, leveling it square at Max’s chest. His finger squeezed the trigger,

, but before the shot rang true, a blade whistled in from the side. It sank into Chrono’s hand, forcing his grip open. His finger jerked, and the gun went off,

BANG!

The bullet skimmed across Max’s cheek, grazing the skin but missing its mark.

And then Max’s fist smashed into Chrono’s face.

Chrono staggered, but Max didn’t stop. He clamped onto Chrono’s wrist, wrenching the weapon away from him with sheer force.

"You won’t wake up from this one!" Max growled, his voice like thunder.

He ripped the gun free, his boot driving deep into Chrono’s chest, sending him sprawling. And now, Max stood tall, the gun in his hand, aimed straight at Chrono’s head.

Chrono’s lips trembled, his eyes wide with rage and disbelief. "Like you could kill som-"

BANG!