From Bullets To Billions
Chapter 306: Boots and Claws
CHAPTER 306: BOOTS AND CLAWS
The fighting raged on, the clash between the students and the gang members showing no signs of slowing.
Even though this was the very first time the schools had fought together under one banner, it was clear from the way they moved that something rare was happening. They weren’t tripping each other up, weren’t trying to prove which school was strongest or whose fighters were better.
Instead, they were watching each other’s backs, covering openings, stepping in when someone was in trouble, and moving as if they’d been training side by side for months instead of just being thrown together for this one chaotic night.
They’d even come up with a system so that everyone, no matter their strength or experience, could contribute to the fight.
Because the Bloodline Group had the numbers advantage, not everyone needed to be locked in head-to-head combat at all times. Some fighters could double, or even triple, up on a single opponent to take them down fast, while others hung just behind the front line, ready to step in when the opportunity came.
The Seaton Academy girls were one such group. They were strong, high school girls who had proven they could fight when the situation demanded it, but not every one of them had the raw experience to overwhelm hardened adult gangsters who were used to this kind of violence.
Aki had taken one look at the situation and decided to get creative. She’d come up with two specific strategies for the girls, drawing on everything she’d learned from their last encounter.
The first was something she’d borrowed straight from Bazma’s style, sharpened nails. She’d reinforced and hardened them so they wouldn’t snap or break easily in a fight. They weren’t for show, not for enhancing looks, but for one brutal purpose: to deal maximum damage in the shortest possible time.
The girls stayed close, biding their time, waiting for the moments when an enemy slowed down or was already hurt. In street fights, stamina was often the deciding factor. People tired out, their guard dropped, and that was when the Seaton girls struck, nails slashing to leave deep, burning marks that kept opponents from bouncing back.
But Aki hadn’t stopped there. Her second idea had been sitting in the back of her mind for months, ever since she’d imagined a day like this might come. She’d ordered every girl to buy steel-capped boots.
At first, training in them had been tough. The weight slowed their kicks, forced them to adjust their stance and find their balance all over again. But slowly, steadily, they’d adapted, until the boots felt like an extension of their own legs.
Now, in the chaos of the street, those boots were a weapon in their own right. When an enemy went down, whether stunned, tripped, or knocked to the ground, the girls would rush in. A swift, steel-tipped kick to the shin, the ribs, or even the face was enough to keep a gang member down and out of the fight.
At first glance, it might not have seemed like much. But over the course of the battle, their strikes were adding up. Thanks to their precision and coordination, more and more gang members were staying on the ground, unable to get back into the fray.
It wasn’t flashy, but it was effective, and in a fight like this, that was all that mattered.
There was one other person on the field who was having a massive impact, not through brute force, but through the way he moved. That person was Joe.
He slipped in and out of the chaos like water, weaving between fighters as though the crowd was nothing more than a maze only he knew how to navigate. His eyes locked onto a target, and in the blink of an eye, his fist was already there. A sharp jab, fast and clean, cracked against his opponent before they could react.
He never stayed still. Constantly moving, ducking low, pivoting on his heels, he hit and moved on to the next. It was like he had limitless stamina, his pace unbroken even after dozens of strikes. One by one, he was breaking down the opposition and easing the pressure on the Bloodline’s fighters.
People were starting to notice. Those from his school, even those who had barely spoken to him before, couldn’t believe their eyes. The quiet Joe they knew had been replaced by someone faster, sharper, and far more relentless than they ever imagined.
How did he change this much? they wondered.
For Joe, the answer was simple.
These people... they were behind Jay. Behind what happened to him. I’ll do whatever it takes to pay them back. My fists don’t hurt today, they won’t drop to my sides. No matter how many punches I throw, they’re never heavy... and I will not tire.
Seeing Joe’s performance only pushed the other leaders harder. Wolf, Max, Steven, and the rest could feel it, the momentum, the heat of the fight surging through them. It was a sensation none of them had truly experienced before, not even leading their own groups. Together, they were achieving something that would have been impossible alone.
Meanwhile, Wolf and Max continued forcing their way toward Chrono. The crowd didn’t part easily, there were still too many fighters between them and their target. Even when no one directly stepped in their path, the sheer volume of bodies locked in combat slowed their advance.
Sometimes they had to lend a hand to allies nearby, stepping in to block a hit or drop an opponent who was about to land a blow on one of their own. Other times they slipped between swinging weapons and stray fists, keeping their focus forward.
Then they saw him.
Na.
He was finally moving.
The moment Na began striding toward them, Wolf instinctively shifted, stepping in front of Max.
"You were beaten last time," Na called out, his voice low but brimming with confidence, "but I assure you, even if it’s just me against the two of you, this is a match you cannot win."
Max’s expression stayed steady, but inside he knew Na wasn’t wrong. He was slightly weaker than when they’d fought before, and this time, he had no weapons to rely on.
Na’s pace didn’t falter. As soon as he closed the distance, he launched a heavy punch aimed straight at Wolf.
But his fist didn’t land.
Instead, another force met it head-on, stopping the strike cold.
"I know," Wolf said with a grin, eyes glinting. "I can’t beat someone ranked higher than me. That’s exactly why..."
He stepped aside, revealing the figure standing beside him, two batons crossed to block Na’s blow.
"...I brought someone ranked even higher than you to fight."
Aron lifted one leg and drove a crushing kick into Na’s stomach, the batons still firm in his hands.