Chapter 257: A Dangerous Gamble

The fighting had started to slow down.

Across the battered floor of the underground ring, members of each group, both allies and enemies, were finally beginning to feel the weight of their injuries. The adrenaline that had kept their bodies moving, fueling them through pain and exhaustion, was beginning to fade. Limbs moved slower. Grunts of exertion turned into wheezes. And more and more of them remained sprawled on the ground, unable to stand.

Yet in the midst of it all, the Bloodline Rangers continued to fight.

Joe, even after finally figuring out how to deal with his opponent, was still locked in a brutal struggle against Sniper. He had the edge now, had cracked the code, but it was far from over. Blow for blow, they went at it.

Sniper wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not when the boy in front of him, barely more than a high schooler, was matching him. Defeating him. The swelling around Sniper’s eyes had gotten worse, the bruises piling up, but the man’s pride wouldn’t let him fall. Not yet.

Still, it was only a matter of time.

Steven, on the other hand, had ended his fight swiftly. It hadn’t even been a contest. And maybe that was the problem. The Black Hounds noticed. Especially the waiters, they hadn’t forgotten what he’d done to them earlier.

The moment Steven stepped down from the ring, a tray edge came flying at his throat like a guillotine.

He ducked, lowering himself just in time. The attack whistled over his head. Instinct kicked in, and he countered with a punch aimed straight for the attacker. The tray was raised as a makeshift shield, but it did nothing to stop the hit. Steven’s fist bent the tray like tin foil and still smashed into the Black Hound member’s face.

It wasn’t even close.

Everyone was caught up in their own battles, struggling, pushing, surviving. No one had the freedom to help Max. Not Joe. Not Steven. Not a single one of them… except for one person.

Wolf.

“Aren’t you going to do something?!” Chad’s voice broke through the chaos. “You’re on the same team, right? You’re both Bloodline. And I’ve heard how skilled you are. Why aren’t you helping him?!”

Chad hadn’t looked away once. Not even for a second. His eyes were locked on Max’s brutal exchange with Dud, watching every painful second of it. And still, Max was standing. Still, he was fighting through whatever agony he must’ve been feeling.

Wolf’s response was cool, but his gaze was sharp.

“Why don’t you help him?” Wolf said, turning his head slightly. “You seem to know him just as well.”

There was more behind those words than deflection. There was a truth, a quiet one. A choice that Wolf had already made, long before the fists had started flying. A decision not made out of cowardice, but necessity.

Wolf wanted to help Max. He liked the kid. Not just for the money, though, sure, that helped, but for who Max was. There was something in him worth backing.

But this situation… this wasn’t just about Max anymore. By siding with him, Wolf had already made enemies. Powerful ones. The Rejected Crops. The Black Hounds. Two forces larger than anything the Pit had ever gone up against.

Helping Max more than he already had? That would drag the Pit into a war it couldn’t survive.

So this, watching, standing back, restraining himself, this was as far as Wolf could go.

As for the others, still deep in their own battles, only one person was left who felt he could still do something.

Aron.

The only problem was… he hadn’t decided if he should. Not yet.

If I act, I’ll stain my hands with blood… maybe blood I won’t be able to wash off later, Aron thought, eyeing Elephant warily. But if I don’t act now, Max might not survive the next few minutes.

Aron leapt backward, narrowly avoiding Elephant’s incoming fist as it crashed through a table, splintering it to pieces. Elephant was still fighting with terrifying strength, throwing punches like sledgehammers. Even if Aron somehow made it past him, there was no telling what damage Elephant might do to the others.

Joe wouldn’t stand a chance. Neither would Steven. No one else is in a state to stop him.

Max had already lost Jay. Another loss right now might break him. And Aron knew it.

Which means… I have only one option left. One thing to try. Before I resort to anything worse.

Without hesitating, Aron reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Forgive me, Max, he thought, fingers trembling only slightly as he dialed. I’m doing this without your permission… but I believe it’s what you would want me to do.

As he ducked and weaved around Elephant’s attacks, he waited for the line to connect. It did.

“Yes, please,” Aron said into the receiver, calm despite the chaos. “I’d like to bet the full amount. Place ten million on red.”

This wasn’t just a gamble. It was a vow.

Max had told him once, in a hushed moment, that if it ever came down to it, if he was ever on the edge between life and death, there was a bet he was allowed to make. And only Aron knew about it. Only he held that responsibility.

And now, Max couldn’t make the call himself. He was too busy surviving. Too caught up in the storm.

So Aron made it for him.

But the consequences… if the ball landed on black instead of red… it wouldn’t just be a loss. It would be a commitment.

A blood-soaked promise.

If that happened, Aron would end it. He would kill Elephant. And he would save Max, no matter the cost.

Ten long seconds passed before the voice came back on the line.

“It seems red truly is your lucky color,” the man on the other end said. “It’s landed on red.”

The call ended. Aron slid the phone back into his pocket.

Just in time.

Elephant charged again, swinging with brute strength. Aron slipped past the punch, tilting his head as the fist narrowly missed his face.

“You really think you’re that good?” Elephant growled. “Answering your phone in the middle of a fight? How arrogant can you be?!”

Aron stared him down, expression unreadable.

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” he replied. “You get to live. At least… for now.”

The truth was, even with the bet won, and the boost now active, Max’s body was battered, broken. His condition was worse than ever. And even with the increase in strength…

There was still no guarantee he’d be able to turn the tide.