From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 311

Chapter 311: Blades in the Chaos

The Bloodline Group was already holding strong, their overwhelming numbers and unity giving them the edge over their opponents. They pushed the gangs back step by step, but then a new shift rippled through the battlefield like a breaking wave.

The Rejected Corps had turned on the Chalkline members.

The sudden betrayal spread like wildfire, a violent surge that split the battlefield further apart. The Bloodline fighters quickly realized that all they had to do was step back, letting their enemies tear into each other. For a moment, it seemed like the chaos might solve itself.

But there was one problem, something that could snap the gangs out of fighting one another and refocus their fury on the Bloodline. A rallying point.

A leader.

Normally, either Chrono or Montez would’ve been enough to pull their forces back together. But Chrono was still locked in combat against Max, and Montez was tied up as well, his fight with Wolf showing no signs of slowing.

Montez lashed out with a sudden strike, a flick of his hand aimed fast at Wolf’s face.

Wolf leaned back, arching so far he lost his balance and dropped toward the ground. But with a single palm against the pavement, he caught himself, twisting his body as his legs shot upward. His heels slammed into Montez’s chest, knocking him back.

In the same motion, Wolf flipped upright again, springing back to his feet as if he’d never lost balance at all.

"You’re an annoying one!" Montez snarled.

The two had been fighting for a while, and frustration etched deeper into Montez’s face with each passing second. Wolf wasn’t like other opponents. There was no clear fighting style, no steady rhythm to predict, no pattern to exploit. His movements were wild, improvisational, impossible to read. Every strike, every dodge felt unpredictable, and it left Montez on edge.

So finally, he decided to stop playing around.

Reaching behind him, Montez drew out two blades, sharp kitchen knives, worn but deadly, their edges gleaming as if they had been sharpened over and over until they could cut through anything.

They weren’t cleavers. They weren’t daggers forged for war. They were tools turned into weapons, and in Montez’s hands, they promised death all the same.

Wolf tilted his head, his eyes flicking between the knives. "I thought you guys were called the Chalkline Boys. But all I’ve seen you use are knives. Maybe it’s time you think about renaming your group."

Montez smirked darkly. He stepped in, both blades slashing in swift, practiced motions. Wolf turned his head, barely fast enough, but not fast enough to escape entirely. A thin red line appeared across his cheek where one knife had kissed his skin.

"You think it’s just about the knives?" Montez growled. "We use these tools to kill. The name, ’Chalkline’, comes after, when your body hits the ground. But you won’t be alive long enough to see that part."

Wolf’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, he broke eye contact, glancing at a scuffle happening just nearby. His long leg whipped out with startling precision, kicking the handle of a weapon from another man’s grip.

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