From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 141

Chapter 141: Clashing Morals

It didn’t take long for the Rejected Corps to claim victory.

The restaurant floor was chaos incarnate, broken plates, shattered glass, overturned tables, and bodies. Chalkline Boys were scattered across the scene like discarded props, groaning or unconscious, blood smearing the tiles in streaks and pools. Some slumped over booths, others splayed on the ground, still twitching.

Despite the intensity of the fight, the Rejected Corps had only sustained two serious casualties, fighters who, by the looks of it, wouldn’t be joining the next battle anytime soon. Even so, compared to the damage they’d inflicted?

Minimal losses. Another brutal, overwhelming win for the Rejected Corps.

As for Max and Wolf, they’d come out of it without a scratch. No bruises, no blood, just a clean record and a healthy stack of knocked-out enemies. Both had taken out more than their fair share, and now stood near the entrance, breathing steady, barely winded.

Max looked around at the wreckage.

The place’s done for, he thought. Won’t be serving hot pot again anytime soon.

He scanned the battlefield, taking in the full picture, not just the victory, but the message it sent. The Chalkline Boys had been hit hard. Really hard. This wasn’t something they’d walk away from quietly.

They won’t just let this go, Max thought grimly. They’ll retaliate. And when they do, the Rejected Corps will need help again. Which means... they’ll come calling. Probably for me.

Down the middle of the room, Na walked through the aftermath with cold precision, checking on each fighter, assessing damage, collecting a mental report.

"They were tougher this time," Dud muttered, brushing blood off his knuckles.

Na nodded. "Right. That’s why Chrono sent me."

Dud tilted his head. "You think Chrono could’ve just sent another squad with us? Might’ve saved us a few injuries."

Na’s gaze drifted. He looked toward Max and Wolf.

"I think you’re right," he admitted. "But I think Chrono wanted to test them. With another squad in the mix, we wouldn’t have gotten a clear read on what they’re capable of. He wanted proof. What do you think of them?"

Dud crouched beside one of the Chalkline fighters and casually started rifling through the man’s pockets.

"You’re not gonna care what I think," Dud replied as he slipped a silver watch off the man’s wrist and pocketed it. "Chrono’s gonna ask you, not me. So I’ll flip it, what do you think?"

Na scowled. "Do you have to do that?"

"What?" Dud asked, looking up with mock innocence.

"If the others see you looting our enemies for scraps, they’re gonna start thinking we’re underpaid."

Dud grinned and pointed straight at Na’s face. "Money is money. And as the victor, I take what I want."

Then, with a flash of that crooked smile, he added, "And don’t forget, Sergeant. You don’t give me orders."

They never had, since the first day the two had met each other. Most members of the Rejected Corps had gathered close to the start of the formation of the group. Na had been there from the beginning where Dud had joined at a later time. So they had seen the countless close encounters the two had between each other.

The reason was simple: their morals.

But it wasn’t that simple. That final argument with his commanding officer had pushed things too far. Too loud. Too disrespectful. And Dud had been kicked out of his old unit. _{fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com}