From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 309

Chapter 309: Clash of Strength and Skill

Out of the corner of his eye, Na kept trying to glimpse the fight taking place just beyond him. He knew Chrono was locked in a battle with Max. From what Na had seen earlier, when Max fought alongside Wolf, Chrono should have been able to best him. At least, that was the logical conclusion.

But there were always factors Na couldn’t account for.

The strength Max might have gained through hardship. The possibility that he had been holding back his true ability until now.

Unfortunately for Na, both of those things were true. Max had grown stronger with every fight he survived, every hardship endured, every vow he carried. And on top of that, he had never once revealed the full extent of his power.

If Na had been able to keep his attention on the duel between Max and Chrono, he might have recognized the danger sooner and moved to intervene. But that was a luxury he did not have.

"Do you really think you can fight me without giving me your full attention?" Aron’s voice cut through sharply. His batons flashed as he swung them down with precision.

Na met the attack head-on, thrusting his fist forward and punching directly into the baton. The impact echoed, and Aron’s hand was knocked back slightly from the force.

Na’s strength was greater than Aron’s, raw, unyielding. That was the one advantage he had to seize if he wanted to win.

But Aron adapted instantly. As one baton was flung aside, Na cocked his other fist to strike again. Yet before he could land it, Aron’s second baton shot upward, catching Na’s arm and forcing it off course. In a blur of movement, Aron shifted, his weapons crossing into strange, twisting shapes that locked Na’s arms in place.

Na’s eyes widened. His hand was trapped.

With a sudden jerk, Aron yanked him forward and drove a powerful kick into his stomach. Air burst from Na’s lungs as Aron immediately released the hold, his batons already moving for the next strike.

Na braced for a blow to the head, but at the last second Aron shifted his aim. The batons cracked hard against Na’s thighs and then his knees, the strikes landing with punishing accuracy. Pain shot through Na’s legs, forcing him to stumble.

Before he could reset, Aron’s body blurred again. He slipped behind Na, his baton slamming against the side of his neck before sweeping low once more, striking his thigh in the exact same spot as before.

Na roared, swinging an arm backward in retaliation. But his strike hit nothing but air. Aron had already stepped away, his movements quick, precise, and untouchable.

The difference between them was clear: Na had overwhelming strength, but Aron had speed, technique, and flawless control.

And in this kind of fight, control meant everything.

"You’ve got strength," Aron said coolly, circling as his batons spun in his hands, "but compared to me, you’re relatively slow. Some fighters might choose to take you head-on because of that... but not me. For me, the key is simple, make you even slower."

He moved in again, his strikes hammering downward, this time targeting Na’s legs.

Na gritted his teeth, his thoughts flashing bitterly. The way he fights... was he military too? Out on the field, hardened like me? How the hell did Max find someone like this?

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