“Don’t forget our deal, Max,” Jacob muttered as they approached the half-finished construction site, his voice sharp and arrogant. “Once we’re done here, the representative position belongs to me. You were just keeping it warm.”Max tightened his grip on the metal bat and didn’t even glance at him. “Shut up and do the job.”They pushed open the loose steel door and stepped inside. The stale air reeked of dust and paint, but what caught their eyes wasn’t the smell—it was the twenty students of Swisscom High lined up in formation at the entrance.One of the guards stepped forward, a thick wooden stick in his hand. “Bloomfield trash. Leave now before you regret it.”Neither Max nor Jacob moved. The silence stretched, tense and heavy.“Did you not hear me?!” the boy yelled. He charged forward, raising the stick.“Max—” Jacob started, but before he could finish, the stick came down across his back.The crack echoed through the half-constructed floor. But Jacob didn’t even flinch. Slowly, h

Kael’s grip tightened like an iron vice around Max’s leg. Before Max could react, Kael dragged him across the floor, the tiles scraping his back raw. Then, with a guttural roar, Kael swung him overhead and hurled him into the ground. The impact rattled Max’s bones, forcing the air from his lungs in a choking gasp.Dazed, Max struggled up on trembling arms. His vision swam, but Kael was already there, moving like a predator.WHAM!A fist slammed into Max’s ribs.BAM!An elbow cracked against his jaw.THUD!A knee drove into his stomach, folding him like paper.Each strike tore deeper into his body, leaving him staggering like a puppet barely holding its strings. His breaths came ragged, blood dripping down his lip, his legs unsteady.Kael sneered. “What’s wrong, boy? You slowing down?”Max’s body screamed for rest. His swollen eye barely opened, yet he refused to drop. Step after step, he forced himself forward—toward Kael.Then, with a weak grunt, he threw a punch.It barely grazed Ka

The world felt heavy when Max opened his eyes. His body sank into the mattress as if gravity itself had doubled overnight. Every muscle ached, his ribs throbbed, and his head buzzed with the lingering echoes of Kael’s blows. The system notification about the bronze keys was still faintly burned into his mind, a reminder of the chaos from last night.“Don’t even think about moving,” Grimm’s voice cut into the silence of his room. It wasn’t angry—it was practical, firm. “Your body’s screaming for rest. For once, listen to it.”Max groaned and turned his face into the pillow. “For once, I think I will. Forget school. Forget everything. Just… sleep.”But the universe didn’t care about rest.His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Once. Twice. By the third vibration, Grimm muttered, “Ignore it.”Max reached over anyway, fumbling for the phone. The name flashing on the screen made him sigh.Lois.Of course.He answered with a voice that sounded like it had been dragged across sandpaper. “What?”

The warehouse echoed with the sound of fists slamming into flesh. Max was a storm—his body moved like a man possessed. Every punch, every kick, every elbow strike carried the weight of his fury and the precision of Mas Oyama’s soul link.One by one, the boys dropped. Cries of pain mixed with the thud of collapsing bodies. Max was everywhere—countering, striking, punishing. He was a blur of raw speed and force, and within minutes, the twenty boys who mocked him were scattered across the floor, groaning, broken.At the center of it all, Max stood, chest heaving, eyes burning red with rage.And then he turned to the boy—the ringleader—the one who had lured May and Lois here.The boy tried to crawl backward, but Max grabbed him by the collar and dragged him across the filthy floor like a bag of trash. He dropped him in front of May.Max’s voice was low, almost trembling with the effort of holding back. “Family’s not something you throw away. You killed her sister. So now—your punishment i

The rain came heavy, turning the street into rivers of broken light. Streetlamps flickered, their glow hazy through the downpour. The night carried a silence that felt alive, broken only by the steady rhythm of water hitting asphalt.Max stood in the middle of the road, soaked, fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms. His swollen eye still burned from the last fight, but his gaze never left the figure across from him.Isaac Holt.The older boy strolled casually beneath the cover of a black umbrella held by one of his bodyguards, his pristine shoes untouched by the water splashing around them. He looked less like a fighter and more like a king surveying a subject.“Give me the flash,” Max demanded, his voice cutting through the storm. “The footage of my mom.”Isaac tilted his head, lips curling into a smirk. “Flash? Ah… so you know.” He chuckled low, the sound mixing with the patter of rain. “But, Max… what makes you think you can take it from me?”The umbrella shifted slig