From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - I'm Dying

My brother Kyle Darn died, and I guess that's how everything started. Maximus's thoughts echoed painfully through his mind as a sharp, burning sensation shot down his leg. His body grew colder by the second, and darkness engulfed his vision completely. The only sound that reached his ears was a slow, dragging noise scraping across the ground.

Correction: Maximus knew exactly what that sound was. It was his own body being dragged across the floor, tightly sealed in a heavy, suffocating black bag, arms and legs tied securely. Even if he had the strength to move, he was utterly helpless. His silly talent, expertly using chopsticks at dinner, was now officially over. Not that it was ever impressive. After all, billions of people did it daily, yet somehow it always managed to surprise someone.

In these fleeting moments, his entire life flashed vividly through his mind, memories streaming in relentlessly.

Bad luck had followed me since Kyle died. My father passed away on the exact same day, racing desperately to the hospital, only to lose his life in a tragic car accident. Mom couldn't endure the unbearable pain of losing two people she loved deeply, leaving behind the only one who was still breathing—me.

Yet, despite these crushing losses, Maximus refused to let his troubled past dictate his future. If anything, it was precisely these losses that had shaped him into the person he became. From that day onward, he'd decided the world would no longer simply take from him, he would take whatever he wanted in return, no matter the method. Theft, deception, violence, blackmail, his moral compass disappeared quickly, replaced by fierce determination. Soon, others who felt similarly abandoned or angry flocked to him, ultimately creating the notorious White Tiger Gang.

What an embarrassing name, now that I think about it. The memory made him cringe inwardly. They called me the White Tiger just because I liked wearing white clothes, or maybe it was because of my part-Asian heritage. Either way, I foolishly went along with it.

If he could move, Maximus would've slapped himself right then. Usually, embarrassing memories haunted people about high school or awkward teenage years, but he had plenty that followed him into adulthood.

Even today, he'd put on his lucky red underwear—yet clearly, luck wasn't on his side. Pain intensified with every passing moment, a grim reminder of multiple stab wounds covering his body. He'd lost count after a dozen.

"Alright, drop him here. Then leave us, I want a word with him alone," ordered a muffled voice from above.

Footsteps echoed away before a zipper sound sliced through the silence. Suddenly, Maximus squinted, desperately trying to see through his blurry vision as the bag opened. Blood and dizziness made it nearly impossible, but he could just barely make out a figure standing above him, face hidden beneath a balaclava.

"Could've been kidnapped by Harry Potter for all I know," Maximus murmured weakly, his mind drifting in and out of lucidity. "Harry Potter... now that's a frightening thought. How would I even beat him? A headbutt, maybe a quick kick between his legs... I'd like to see him spell his way out of that one."

"Still cracking jokes, even now?" The masked figure chuckled darkly, grabbing a fistful of Maximus's black hair and forcing his head upward roughly. "I still can't believe someone like you led the White Tiger Gang. Clawing your way up from nothing, turning yourself into someone people feared. What a pathetic joke."

Maximus strained harder, fighting desperately against the blur, desperately wanting to see clearly, but his eyes failed him miserably.

My eyes are worthless... Is his voice disguised, or am I just imagining it?

Am I drowning? Is this really how my life ends? Without even knowing who killed me, or why? Money rules? Was my death purchased by someone?

Those words—no one owns me—only someone very close to me knew that phrase. Was someone from my own gang behind this? Was I betrayed? Haven't I suffered enough? Whoever is up there listening, whoever controls this cruel world, don't you owe me this much, a chance to know who did this to me?