From Bullets To Billions

Rick's face was straight and stern, the kind that didn't flinch even under pressure, and as Joe turned around, he saw Rick wasn't alone. Two other boys stood by his side, both with their arms folded and eyes sharp, the kind of backup that never missed a thing.

But what really startled Joe, what made his chest clench and his nerves spark, was the sight of fresh blood staining the front of Rick's shirt. The crimson spots looked almost wet, as if Rick had just "solved a problem" only moments before stepping into this very hallway. Whatever business he'd handled, it hadn't been clean.

From the corner of his eye, Joe caught sight of his own fallen schoolmates behind him. Their slumped forms didn't exactly make for the best first impression, especially not with someone like Rick watching. Joe's stomach twisted. If this was a test, he was failing.

"Uh, please… I was only sent from the Bloodline group to deliver a message," Joe managed, his words tumbling out as he shuffled backwards, hands raised in a clumsy attempt to look harmless. "That's all I wanted to do. I really didn't want to fight." The gesture hadn't worked before, but maybe this time would be different. Maybe.

In his mind, a frantic train of thought raced by: This is Rick, the head of Clapton. Their school's reputation was just as fierce as ours. That means he's at least as strong as Dipter, maybe stronger. Even when Dipter was head, Clapton was the only school gutsy enough to poke at us from time to time. Rick waited, bided his time… and now, as soon as Dipter fell, he built this whole alliance.

Rick isn't just strong; he's got a good head on his shoulders, Joe reminded himself, trying to read every small flicker of expression on Rick's face. At least, that's what everyone says.

Rick's eyes narrowed, and his voice cut through the tense silence, "You've come here, in the middle of our school day, directly onto our turf, after what you guys did last time?" His gaze swept Joe up and down, then landed on the jacket Joe wore. "I saw the words on your jacket. It's the same as theirs, the same as the group that's been spreading all over."

He took a single step forward, and the space between them seemed to shrink like gravity itself was bending the hallway. "Either you're very brave for coming here and doing this… or you're very stupid," Rick said, his tone unyielding. "And I haven't decided which one yet."

Joe swallowed hard, feeling his own saliva stick in his throat. He didn't know why, but just hearing Rick talk, so assertive, so commanding, made Joe feel as if every word carried weight, as if the air itself grew heavier each time Rick opened his mouth. It was like being caught in the orbit of a planet, unable to escape.

Joe's hand started to tremble, a cold, helpless shake that crawled up his arm and into his chest. Suddenly, the images flickered across his mind, vivid, cruel memories of himself sprawled out on the ground, Dud's fists raining down again and again, each hit echoing with pain and humiliation. He could almost feel the bruises blooming anew on his skin.

Rick noticed, of course. His lips curled into a mocking grin, and his laughter was sharp and loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway. "What's wrong? You scared just from a few words?" Rick taunted, his eyes glinting with challenge. The other boys behind him snickered and jeered, their voices bouncing off the walls. "You beat up my friends, and now you're the one shaking?"

Joe's entire body quaked as he fought to steady himself. Instinctively, he gripped the edges of his new jacket, pulling it out so he could see the inner lining. The color was a calm, almost comforting shade of green, and for some reason, just looking at it made his heartbeat slow. It was a reminder that he wasn't the same as before.

Taking a shaky breath, Joe reached into his pocket, feeling for the carefully folded envelope. He pulled it out, his movements stiff but determined, and then tossed it across the floor. The envelope slid to a stop at Rick's feet.

Rick was quick, almost too quick, he snatched the envelope out of the air with a smooth flick of his wrist. He didn't hesitate for a second; tearing it open, he found a single letter and, tucked inside, a bank card gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

"I'm sure you've already heard the rumors," Joe said, forcing his voice to sound steady, even as he felt his heart pounding in his ears. "The Bloodline group is suggesting a fight, a way to end this whole situation between our two groups, once and for all."

He swallowed, feeling the weight of every eye on him. "Tomorrow, at Grunton Park, on the court. We'll settle things. Each side picks five of their best to fight. The loser has to disband their group, no second chances."

One of the students behind Rick scoffed, unable to keep his mouth shut. "Hey! Are you stupid or something? Why would we agree to that? Our alliance is five schools strong, we're bigger than you in every way. We could wipe out all of you at once if we wanted to."

But Joe just grinned, rubbing the side of his nose, the gesture casual but laced with confidence. "Sure. If you really believed that, you guys would've already attacked, wouldn't you? This way, we end things without dragging everyone into the crossfire."

He leaned forward, locking eyes with the student who'd protested. "And if you don't accept, it just means you never trusted yourselves to win in the first place. Every school in Brinhurst has been invited to the event, so everyone's going to see how it goes down. And what Rick's holding in his hand right now? That's your reason to accept."

As Rick unfolded the letter, the other students craned their necks to get a look. Their eyes widened when they saw the number printed on the bank statement, a balance large enough to make anyone hesitate. A couple of them looked like they were about to snatch the paper right out of Rick's grip, but then they remembered exactly whose hand it was in. In Rick's hand, the statement carried real weight, and none of them dared to challenge it.

"Money? And quite the large amount of it, too," Rick said, eyebrows raised as he eyed the bank statement again. "What's this supposed to be for? Is it to keep us from fighting you guys? You want us to take the fall, or what?"

Joe almost laughed. Honestly, that might've been a better solution, couldn't Max just buy everyone over to his side and call it a day? But that wasn't what this was about. He shook his head, clearing the thought away before it could stick.

"No," Joe replied, voice clear and determined. "If you win, not only will the Bloodline group disband for good, but Max will give you the pin to that card so you can access the whole thing. Every last credit."

He let his words hang in the air before driving the point home. "Everyone's going to be watching. We'll make sure it's announced to every school in Brinhurst, so nobody can say he backed out or broke his word. It'll all be out in the open."

The group's eyes lingered on the statement, their gazes glued to the number printed at the top. It was more than most of them had ever seen, more than some would see in years. Even the most skeptical faces softened as their imaginations ran wild with possibilities of what that much money could buy.

"How do we even know something like this is real?" one of the other members piped up, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Where would Max even get that kind of cash in the first place?"

Joe was ready with an answer. "It's got the bank's stamp on it. Even if you're not the account holder, you can go to the bank and confirm that it's real."

"Oh, really?" someone else chimed in, trying to sound skeptical but clearly interested.

"Yeah," another boy said, rubbing the back of his head. "My uncle works at the bank. I know a bit about this stuff. It looks legit."

Rick, who had been silent for a moment, finally moved. He slipped the card into his pocket, eyes never leaving Joe's.

"It seems like Max got his hands on whatever business Dipter was running," Rick mused aloud, his tone almost admiring. "I was always curious about what Dipter had going on in the background. I guess, when I win this fight, I'll get to find out for myself."

He paused, the corner of his mouth turning up in a cold smile. "But there are still a couple of things left to take care of."

Rick lifted his hand, index finger extended like the judge delivering a verdict. He aimed it right at Joe.

"First, I need to pay you back for what you did here. Second, I need some insurance for this whole thing. Get him!"