From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 538: Strategic Retreat

Traveling on the speedboat, the engine’s roar was the only thing cutting through the oppressive silence of the open sea. They were heading back toward land quickly, but more importantly, they were intentionally taking a different path than the one they had arrived on. Max had calculated that they needed to end up at a completely different harbor than the one where the Black Hounds’ massive ship was scheduled to port.

There was a very good chance, almost a certainty, that Darius had deep connections at their original destination. On top of that, it wasn’t like they lived in a world where cellphones didn’t exist. It would have been incredibly easy for Darius to pick up the phone from the deck of his ship and get the other members of the Black Hounds ready to set up a lethal ambush. Max knew that if they showed up at the expected docks, they would be walking straight into a firing squad.

As they watched the silhouette of the large ship finally disappear into the dark distance, the tension on the speedboat finally broke. The three of them could finally breathe a genuine sigh of relief, the weight of the previous hour lifting off their chests.

"Man, I thought I was a serious goner right there," Darno said, sitting heavily on the edge of the boat and looking at the others who were on board. He wiped saltwater from his eyes, his expression still a bit dazed. "I guess I can’t swim for a long time anymore. I’ll really need to make a mental note of that. Water is officially my weakness now, on top of a few other things I’m still figuring out about this body."

While Darno processed his near-death experience, part of the mercenary group was already tending to the wounds that Stephen had sustained during the fight. Now that the adrenaline had stopped pumping through his veins and the fighting had ceased, a searing, white-hot pain was starting to radiate throughout his body. He had been running on fumes and sheer willpower; now, the reality of his injuries was catching up.

First aid attention needed to be immediate. The mercenaries moved with professional efficiency to attend to his wounds, which were quite severe, deep lacerations and heavy bruising that would have killed a normal man. Thankfully, Stephen was superhuman now. Although he didn’t possess a specific super-healing factor like some of the others, his natural recovery rate was still vastly better than most. He certainly would recover from all of this, but the journey back was going to be painful.

"Thank you," Stephen managed to rasp out as one of the men handed him a few heavy-duty drugs to manage the pain. He swallowed them greedily, feeling the edge of the agony begin to blur. "But I don’t really know who I should be thanking. Who are you guys?"

Looking at the men around him, Stephen found it hard to categorize them. Although he didn’t know every single person in the Billion Bloodline group due to how rapidly they had expanded, and even the other groups they had absorbed along the way, he still knew quite a lot of the faces in their organization. He knew that most of the core members had graduated from high school together, and he knew that the older members usually looked a bit more rough around the edges, like street-hardened brawlers.

These men looked rough, too, but it was in a completely different sort of way. The way they were being instructed, the precision of their movements, and how organized they were in such a small space made them seem like they were military or special forces.

’I know who Max is now, but he can’t have connections with the military, could he?’ Stephen thought, his eyes shifting toward Max.

"They’re a mercenary group," Max decided to explain, noticing Stephen’s confusion. "Aron has quite a number of connections in various industries, and this is one of them. We needed professionals."

Max leaned back against the railing, the wind whipping his damp hair. "When we first arrived at the docks to board that ship, I was just as worried as all of you. Being in the middle of nowhere, trapped on a large ship with enemies? It’s a tactical nightmare. So I planned for an emergency just in case things went south. I wasn’t going to leave our lives up to Darius’s mercy."

Max paused, a cold light in his eyes. "If there’s one thing I do have that we can use, it’s money. What group of people would be willing to do anything, and I mean anything, for the right amount of money? And who is able to get their hands on specialized equipment like a high-speed boat at short notice? This is the team. I gave them some clues as to where we were headed and where we left from, and I told them to track the ship’s signal. It was a last resort in case anything happened."

Both Darno and Stephen were in absolute awe. They were surprised Max had the foresight to think that far ahead, planning for a sea rescue before they had even set foot on the boat. They were also surprised that he was willing to spend the extra money, likely a small fortune, to have a mercenary team on standby in the middle of the ocean. Lastly, the good news was that he had people that were reliable and were able to do the job right.

"I thank you all for helping me," Stephen said to the mercenaries. "No wonder Aron recommended you."

"Hey!" the head of the mercenary team said, chewing on something in the corner of his mouth as he checked their GPS coordinates. "Don’t thank us yet. I’m doing this because I’m hoping one day, if you ever fire that guard of yours, he decides to join our team." He nodded toward Darno. "With a guy like him on our side, I’m pretty sure we could land quite a few expensive jobs that are currently out of our reach. Though, with the kind of mess you’re getting yourself into, kid, maybe you need that guard more than we do."

The rest of the men chuckled darkly. They had an inkling that the last time they had been called to deal with a situation involving a superhuman, it was because of this person in the first place. They respected strength and they respected the paycheck.

The issue was, Max knew that this definitely wasn’t going to be the last they heard of the Black Hounds. Darius wasn’t the type to let an insult like this slide. As they sped toward the shore, Max knew they needed to decide on one of two paths. Either they had to find a way to take the Black Hounds out permanently before they were ready to strike again, or they had to prepare for an all-out, bloody war between the two groups.

As Max was in the middle of weighing these grim options, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was a bit wet from the jump into the sea, so the screen wasn’t working properly, flickering with static. However, he could still make out the bright glow of a notification.

"What the... another payment?" Max muttered, staring at the screen. "And a large one as well. What is going on back home?"

What Max didn’t know was that because of a particular orange-haired ally who was currently busy on the mainland, he would soon be seeing a number of those massive payments continue to roll in.