From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 410

Chapter 410: High Ranker

Max’s allies were continuously engaging with the Black hound members; they weren’t just any gang members allowing them to come up again and again. These were also the members that were close to Jett, so they had two things, relatively good fighting experience as well as hardened and tough bodies.

Even for someone like Na who was used to taking down his opponents in one or two hits, he was seeing that they were still fighting and slugging away, and more and more members were coming. It wasn’t going to get easier for the group as time went on, it was going to get harder.

"A single person really thinks that they have the power to stop me?" Jett said. "Believe me, if you knew my strength, I don’t think you would be saying those words."

Max didn’t run off just yet, because he knew that if he sprinted straight ahead, Jett would try to stop him. After all, Jett’s target was him. The intent was obvious in the way Jett stood, feet set, shoulders loose, hands ready, eyes never leaving Max for even a second. It was the kind of attention that made the air feel thinner.

So rather than running straight ahead, Max looked to his side and readied himself. He glanced at Jett, and instinctively Jett knew what Max was going to do. The tension between the two of them tightened like a drawn bowstring.

Max dashed, kicking off the ground, and Jett himself moved for the first time.

"No you don’t!" Jett shouted as he went to reach out.

Surprisingly for Jett’s muscular frame, he was quite fast as well, but Max didn’t expect any less from someone who was the enforcer of a large group like the Black Hounds. Speed rode under the surface of Jett’s size; it was the kind of speed that made decisions matter. A step too slow and you were caught. A step too quick and you were bait.

Max trusted one thing: the evaluation from Wolf.

Swinging upward, an arm hit Jett’s, whacking it up and high above. Even Jett’s eyes widened as he saw his arm flung into the air.

"This power from such a small body, what is this!" Jett said.

Darno stood in front of Jett with one hand above, the one he had just used to knock Jett’s arm away. His other hand had turned in, almost corked upright by his side, his whole frame coiled and steady. He looked like a loaded spring.

Then Darno flung it out as fast as he could, spinning his fist and digging it right into Jett’s body.

When Darno’s fist hit, he felt the hardened, well-toned muscle under Jett’s shirt. For many, that would have been like hitting a brick wall. The shock would have traveled up their wrist, numbing fingers, stealing breath, breaking rhythm.

For Darno, even if it was a brick wall, his hands had no problem bashing right through it.

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