When the vans skidded to a stop, their back doors burst open and a flood of Rejected Corps members poured out.
They came with wide, eager smiles, smiles that didn’t belong to men here to talk. Some carried daggers that gleamed under the dull overhead lights, their edges already nicked from use. Others gripped batons, tapping them against their palms like they couldn’t wait to swing.
But most didn’t even bother with weapons. For them, this was about raw, physical dominance. The thrill of hand-to-hand combat. The confidence that they didn’t need steel to win.
"It’s okay, Wolf," Abby said suddenly. Her voice was quiet but clear enough for him to hear. "It’s alright... you tried your best. You don’t have to keep going, it’s okay."
She had been thinking about saying those words for a while now. The thought had been gnawing at her during their entire escape. Why put Max in danger? Why put Wolf in danger? Why keep running when all of this could be stopped by just one person surrendering, me?
Wolf turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "Hey, we’re not giving up that easy!" His tone was sharp, but beneath it was an energy, defiance.
"You know," he continued, "there are times when I’m gaming and I think, ’I’m never going to get this. The drop rate’s less than one percent, so why even bother, right?’ But you know what? I always end up getting the item I need. Always. And it’s going to be the same here."
Abby blinked at him, startled by the strange comparison, but there was something in his voice that wouldn’t let her dismiss it.
"I wasn’t so sure about my last strategy," Wolf admitted, cracking his neck as he stepped forward, "but those vans that just pulled up? I can definitely drive them away."
He didn’t wait for her response. Wolf exploded into motion, charging straight toward the first group. His head still throbbed from the earlier hit, but he pushed past it. Pain was irrelevant, momentum was everything.
The first man he targeted had a dagger clutched in his fist. Out of all the opponents here, some might wonder why Wolf went for him first. But Wolf’s reasoning was simple, take out the blades before they take you out.
As the man slashed, the steel whistled through the air. Wolf’s back bent in a smooth, unnatural arc, his flexibility saving him by a hair’s breadth as the dagger sliced nothing but air.
Then, with a sudden twist, Wolf’s leg shot out like a coiled spring, his kick slamming into the man’s side. The blow sent the man sprawling to the ground, his dagger hand extended awkwardly. Wolf stomped down hard on the wrist, there was a sickening crunch, and the man’s grip gave out instantly.
Wolf didn’t waste time. He kicked the dagger far across the asphalt, sending it skittering out of reach.
But in that split second of distraction, another Rejected Corps member vaulted over his own ally’s back and drove both feet forward in a flying kick. The strike caught Wolf square in the chest, knocking him back hard toward Abby.
"Damn..." Wolf gritted his teeth as he caught himself. I only took out one before getting hit. If they were spread out, I could handle them one by one. But like this...
Movement flashed at the corner of his eye, one of the men was rushing straight for Abby, hand outstretched as if to grab her.
Wolf didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just moved.



Damn it. If he joins in, I’ve got no chance of getting out of this alive.
VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: From Bullets To Billions