From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 193

Chapter 193: Making History

There was only one individual left on either side who had yet to fight. Because of that, there was no real need for one team to officially send out their next fighter, it was obvious who the final showdown would be between.

Max leaned back, a quiet confidence in his eyes. He knew exactly what Jay was capable of. They’d fought side by side before, back when they first stepped into Clapton together. Jay wasn’t flashy, but he was dangerous.

"Any idea who he’s up against?" Joe asked, keeping his voice low. "I was never high enough up the ranks in Dipter’s crew to keep tabs on the other schools."

The question hung in the air for a moment before Mayson and Crondo turned their attention away from whatever deep dive of last-minute opponent research they were neck-deep in.

"The guy’s name is Reece," Mayson replied.

Right on cue, Reece entered the arena. Broad shoulders, thick arms, and a massive frame, he was practically Jay’s twin in terms of size. But that’s where the similarities ended. His face was all sharp angles and no warmth. Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his eyes. It was like watching a machine walk into the room.

The man was bald, or close to it. His head gleamed slightly under the lights, giving him an even more intimidating presence. His walk was steady, not cocky, just direct.

"Maybe I should call him by his nickname," Mayson added. "They call him the Rhino."

Max raised an eyebrow. "What is it with these guys and nicknames?" he muttered, half amused. Then again, his own crew wasn’t much better. The White Tiger? Really?

Joe smirked. "Can you even talk, you ranger-obsessed freak?"

Max grinned, unable to argue. He had practically given everyone in his circle a title. It was a thing.

"Anyway," Joe continued, "why do they call him Rhino?"

"I think I might have an idea," Steven said, nodding toward Reece. "Look at his trousers."

The group all leaned forward for a better view. Dangling from one of Reece’s belt loops was a keychain, swinging slightly with each step. Attached to it was a small, silver rhino. And around his thick neck, resting above his chest, was a black cord necklace with what looked like a carved rhino horn pendant.

"Wait... is he obsessed with rhinos or something?" Steven asked, squinting.

"Haha, I don’t think you guys are going to be laughing so hard once I tell you the story behind it," Mayson said, crossing his arms. "The truth is, Reece was already considered a monster before he ever picked up that nickname."

"Oh?" Max said, curiosity piqued.

"Yeah," Mayson nodded. "Back in his old school, the sports clubs practically fought over him, football, wrestling, even rugby. Everyone wanted him. But Reece wasn’t exactly the team player type."

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"He kept getting into fights," Mayson explained. "Not just scraps, brawls. The kind that cleared out locker rooms. And the way he fought... it was like something out of a nature documentary. He’d throw punches while roaring like some wild animal. No technique, just pure aggression and raw strength."

"The thing was, he would use anything to fight," Mayson continued. "And one day, he literally ran forward, charging headfirst like a madman. Rumor has it, he missed his target completely and slammed straight into a steel door, bent it inward, like it was nothing."

A few eyebrows raised as Mayson said this.

"Ever since then, they’ve called him the Rhino," he added. "Using that massive dome of his in fights, breaking through whatever gets in his way. Apparently, after that whole incident, he just leaned into the whole image. Hence the keychains, the necklace, the whole aesthetic."

Some of the others exchanged skeptical glances, unsure whether to laugh or take him seriously.

"There’s even talk that he’s become a little too obsessed," Mayson went on. "I’ve heard rumors, yeah, real rumors, that he listens to actual rhino mating calls to psych himself up before fights."

Joe narrowed his eyes. "Alright, now you’re just making crap up."

The group went silent, and they could only imagine what kind of wild noise had been blasting in his ears just moments before. Maybe Mayson wasn’t exaggerating after all.

Steven twitched. His eye subtly flinched, and his posture stiffened. He had overheard every single word. The girls weren’t exactly subtle with their ’whispers.’ Inwardly, he was crumbling, mentally breaking apart piece by piece.

Slowly, almost pleadingly, Steven turned his gaze toward Max, silently begging for some sort of salvation. A defense. A sentence, anything, to shut down the verbal daggers being thrown his way. After all, the only reason he was even here, in the middle of all this madness, was because of Max.

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