From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32 - The Funeral

Everyone who attended Ri Warrior Public School lived in the nearby neighborhood. That was just how public schools worked, you had to be within a certain zone to even qualify for enrollment.

It also meant everything important, including today's funeral, was within a thirty-minute walk from campus.

The service was being held at the local community hall, a space often rented for everything from bingo nights to birthday parties, and now, for something far more solemn.

That was why Max had chosen to walk, despite the light rain falling from the grey sky. Aron, loyal as ever, was by his side, holding an umbrella above his head to shield him from the drizzle.

"I still say it would've been smarter to take the car," Aron said. "You'd be there by now, and completely dry."

"Right," Max replied. "And I'd step out of a car worth more than half the neighborhood. Real subtle. It's not exactly the kind of thing Batman would use to stay unnoticed..." He trailed off for a second, questioning his own comparison.

Aron raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The two continued on through the quiet streets, the soft patter of rain the only sound between them.

Batman was supposed to be a creature of the night, a figure who thrived in the shadows. So why did he drive around in a flashy vehicle that could be spotted from a mile away? It practically announced his arrival with a neon sign.

"Anyway," Max continued, glancing sideways at Aron, "my point is, it draws attention. And you, my friend, attract plenty of that yourself."

"Me? But, sir—"

"Look, I know the arrangement. You're supposed to guard me on weekends. That was the deal. But today isn't exactly a normal day. I just need you to hang back and follow through with what we discussed when the time's right."

Aron looked like he wanted to argue, his expression tight with reluctance. But he said nothing. And when Aron went quiet, it usually meant he was on board.

"I know," Max added with a faint smirk, "if we stay apart for too long, you start getting withdrawal symptoms."

As the funeral site came into view ahead, Max gave a small nod, his signal. Then, without another word, he stepped out from under the umbrella and into the drizzle. He didn't flinch. He just kept walking, letting the rain soak through.

"What was the point of me shielding the young master all this time," Aron muttered under his breath, "if he's just going to get soaked anyway?"

But Max had his reasons. It was a personal rule of his, one he never broke. He never brought an umbrella on the day of a funeral. To him, the rain wasn't just weather. It was the sky weeping for the one who had passed. And he believed in accepting those tears, letting them fall.

At the funeral service, Sam's mother and father stood at the front of the hall, dressed in mourning black. Each time someone entered, they bowed and thanked them softly for coming. Their faces were hollow, their eyes puffy and vacant, as if they'd been crying nonstop for days.

When Max stepped in, he bowed his head respectfully to both of them.

"Thank you for coming," they said, voices brittle and worn.

Max scanned the room as he made his way inside. Tables were lined with modest snacks and refreshments, meant to comfort the guests. Most of the people there looked to be extended family, quiet, grieving, somber.

There were barely any students. In fact, Max seemed to be the only one from school who had shown up.

"I wonder what happened," someone whispered nearby. "Do you think it was trouble at home?"

"No, you know Nancy and Ku... they were wonderful parents," someone whispered nearby. "They did everything for their child. If I had to guess, it was probably something that happened at school."