From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15 - A Small Gift

High school had been both the best and worst time in Max's life, depending on how one looked at it.

Starting with the worst: he was never the kind of guy who could sit down and study. Books? Notes? Long paragraphs of boring information? None of it ever stuck.

But ask him about his favorite comics or TV shows, and he could recite every single detail without missing a beat.

If only that laser focus had applied to schoolwork, he probably would've been top of his class without breaking a sweat.

So no—just because he had barely graduated high school over ten years ago didn't mean he was about to start crushing tests and coasting through with ease this time around.

Now for the good memories?

Those were all about his fists.

Back in the day, Max had made a name for himself fast. Not long after starting school, he beat the toughest guy in his class. Then the strongest in his year. And after that? The top dog in the whole school.

There wasn't a single student who didn't know the name Maxamus.

Eventually, he even started challenging fighters from other schools in the area—and by the end of it all, he was the undisputed top dog across the city.

There were rumors that Max had once taken on fifty people—at the same time—and walked away the victor.

It sounded insane.

But the story spread like wildfire through the city, becoming a legend.

They weren't rumors, Max thought with a smirk. But it's probably a good thing no one remembers what happened afterward... I spent weeks in the hospital.

When he thought about the best days of his life, most of them didn't actually happen in school. They were the moments outside of it, the people he met, the crew he built, the glory days that followed.

There wasn't much he missed about actual high school.

Which made it even more frustrating that he had to start all over again.

Those rough days... they're the reason I got pulled into the gang life in the first place. And where did that lead? Dead before I even hit fifty.

Back in his small apartment, Max rummaged through the limited wardrobe, looking for something to wear. The suit he'd worn to the event was way too formal, he needed something way more low-key.

As he changed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.

His eyes scanned the marks still fading on his skin... and the overall frailness of this new body.

You definitely looked like the study-all-day type, Max thought, frowning. One thing's for sure, you didn't do sports. So if you were a good student, and now I start failing every class... what's going to happen then?

All the thinking was starting to drive Max crazy, he was nearly pulling his hair out.

Back in his old life, whenever his head got too cluttered, he had one solution: work out.

Strong body, strong mind. That's how he made decisions. But this body?

This body was weak.

Unable to sit still any longer, and tired of feeling boxed in by the cramped apartment, Max threw on some looser clothes, mostly sportswear, thankfully still in the closet, and headed out.

The night sky was out, the streets dimly lit. It was around 9:00 PM. Not too late by his standards.

Then again... he had to remember.

He had school tomorrow.

As he walked through the quiet neighborhood, his mind churned through the situation again.

What am I supposed to do? he thought. Right now, I've got a weak body... but a whole lot of money. And I need to find out who in the White Tigers betrayed me.

Could I just... use the money to hire another gang? Bring in muscle to help me get answers?

He could already picture it.

This version of him walking into some rough territory, trying to throw his weight around—

And immediately getting mugged, beaten, or worse—before he even made it to the door.

Maybe Aron could arrange a meeting with someone, but that would raise all kinds of red flags.

Money's a powerful tool in the underworld, Max thought. But without strength of my own, I'll just end up being used. Money can't fix everything.

That thought led him to a decision.

Pulling out his phone, he opened the map app and typed one word: GYM.

Only one around here, he noted. Looks like it's a boxing gym, not a full fitness center. But places like that usually have enough equipment for what I need.

I've got to get this body back into fighting shape. If there's one good thing about all this... I've got my youth back. Time to make it count.

"Strong Boxing Gym."

"Hey—I really don't wanna be that guy," Max said, trying to sound casual, "but are you closing already? The map said you're open till midnight. Isn't that still a couple hours away?"