CHAPTER 243: THE PRICE OF THE BET

Two hundred million.

It was the kind of number that most people couldn’t even comprehend, an amount that could build entire districts from the ground up. Parks, housing blocks, schools, and even hospitals... All of it could be constructed in underprivileged areas with that kind of money.

And here it was, being wagered on a fight. A single, underground brawl.

If the general public ever caught wind of something like this, there would be riots in the streets. Outrage wouldn’t even begin to cover it. The injustice of it all, how the wealthy could toss around absurd amounts of money like it was pocket change, was enough to ignite a revolution.

Max felt it too.

Not the fury of the masses, but the very real ache in his chest, brought on by the constraints of the Vow. Putting that kind of money on the line made his heart race for reasons beyond nerves. If he lost... how much weaker would he become? How long would it take to recover? Could he even earn back that sum without exposing himself?

But there was one thing Max was confident about.

Dud.

Even when Dud entered the venue earlier, Max had sensed it, the certainty, the power in his stride. He wasn’t bluffing, and Max trusted in that.

The manager stared at Max in silence. No smile. No expression. Just disbelief frozen on his face. It was clear the number had rattled him.

"I heard you’re able to cover this," Max said coolly, eyes locked onto the man. "Chad told me he placed a bet this high before. So I’m assuming the Black Hounds have the means to cover it. Otherwise... you shouldn’t have accepted a bet like that in the first place, right?"

The words landed heavy. And the manager didn’t respond immediately.

Ninety-nine percent of the fights here were rigged. At the very least, the structure was in place to allow for rigging at any moment. But somehow, Max had just bet everything on the one fight they couldn’t manipulate.

This kid... the manager thought. Him and that fighter, Dud, they were talking earlier. They must know each other. But are they close enough for Dud to give him the inside scoop? Are they working together?

His thoughts spiraled.

Do I report this to the Black Hounds? What if it interferes with today’s task?

To stall for time, the manager pulled out his tablet and tapped away as though processing the bet. In reality, he was scrambling for answers.

There are a few things they could try, Max thought. They could let the fight happen, take the bet, then come up with some excuse not to pay out. Maybe they’ll offer to wipe Chad’s debt instead. They’ve already taken plenty from him, at this point, it’s just greed.

Best-case scenario: they accept the bet but say they can’t pay out the full amount. I could offer to take a partial payout, just a few million, and my Vow would still strengthen.

But there’s one more option...

His phone buzzed again in his pocket. The vibrations repeated several times. He ignored it, purposefully.

Then came the manager’s voice.

"I’m afraid I won’t be able to process that bet," he said, clearing his throat.

Max raised an eyebrow.

"While it’s true that Chad placed a 200 million wager before, that was the maximum allowed," the manager explained. "You, on the other hand, currently owe a debt of 203 million. Until that amount is cleared, we can’t accept any more bets."

He smiled faintly. It was forced.

"Of course, once your debt is settled, we’ll honor any winning bets you place. I hope you understand, this isn’t exactly pocket change."

Max’s jaw tensed. He could see right through the lie.

This wasn’t about regulations. It was about control.

An underground organization like this one dealt in millions, sure, but hundreds of millions? That was out of their league. Somehow, they had managed to find one sucker, Chad, who kept handing over money like it grew on trees. And Max could only assume it came with veiled threats, manipulation, and maybe even fear tactics.

"Hey, hey! Don’t worry," Chad laughed awkwardly, throwing an arm around Max. "We’re Sterns, remember? We’ve got money for days. He’ll pay it off, we’ll get this bet in no time. Right, Max? Right?"

Max didn’t respond immediately.

This was the one situation he hadn’t wanted to be in. Actually handing over 200 million would devastate him. His strength, his Vow, everything would weaken.

He thought for a second, then offered a new path.

"What if I placed a smaller bet?" Max said. "One that wouldn’t earn me any money, but if the Crazed Soldier wins, the debt is cleared."

The manager raised a hand to his earpiece. It was a subtle motion, meant to give the illusion that he was receiving information from someone higher up. But Max didn’t buy it. He had been observing everything carefully, and there hadn’t been a single indication that anyone else was watching, or communicating.

"I apologize," the manager said suddenly, lowering his hand. "It seems I made a mistake earlier. Due to our internal policy, bets can only be placed up to a maximum of 200 million. And since your current debt sits at 203 million, we can’t accept any bets at all."

He flashed another fake smile.

"This is also the last fight of the day. So I suggest you pay up now."

Max’s fists clenched under the table.

"Well, what can we do?" Chad said, chuckling as if they were just two guys chatting over lunch. "We’ve gotta pay them the amount anyway. You might as well pay now so we can get that bet in, yeah?"

Max slowly peeled Chad’s arm off his shoulder and stood up from his seat.

He said nothing at first as he walked over to the manager’s table. The entire room felt like it paused, holding its breath.

Then he turned.

"You want my answer?" Max asked calmly.

His fist tensed, and before anyone could react, he swung.

The punch landed square on the manager’s face, sending him flying backward. His mask flew off mid-air as he tumbled down the staircase, crashing onto the floor below.

Gasps echoed from around the room. Chad stumbled back in shock.

Max looked down at the stunned crowd.

"No one," he said coldly, "is getting a single cent of my money."