From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 559

Chapter 559: The Weight of Competence

The deployment was swift. Each member of the Billion Bloodline group moved to their respective positions, flanked by regular department store guards whose nerves were visibly frayed. As the specialists took their posts, the atmosphere among the local staff was thick with a mixture of resentment and desperate hope.

There were two primary reasons for the guards’ trepidation. First, those who had previously tried to intervene in the Gilt Rats’ raids had been systematically beaten into the hospital. It was clear that the people targeting the Stern Department Store weren’t just common thugs; they were seasoned brawlers with combat experience. Typical mall security guards were usually just large men hired for their physical presence, possessing little to no actual martial training. Even if a guard had a background in basic security protocols, very few were willing to risk permanent disability for a job that barely paid a living wage. They certainly weren’t being paid a million dollars a day to be heroes.

The second reason was the suffocating pressure from above. Karen Stern’s "tough love" management style meant that failure resulted in immediate termination. A significant portion of the security force had already been fired in the last week alone. While the job didn’t pay as well as executive protection, the benefits and the prestige of the luxury department store made it a coveted position in Slough. Before the Gilt Rats began their campaign, it had been a cushy gig with almost zero incidents. Now, it was a war zone, and the workers feared this was their last chance. They looked at Max’s team—five men in standard uniforms—and saw just another group destined to be crushed.

Stephen was currently doing rounds in the luxury jewelry wing. He had been paired with a veteran guard named Arthur, who kept shifting his weight and glancing at his watch. They moved past glittering displays of diamonds and gold, the silence of the high-end shop feeling heavy.

"You guys really think five of you can change anything?" Arthur whispered, his eyes darting toward the elevators. "The Rats don’t come in swinging. They come in fast, they take what they want, and they vanish."

Stephen didn’t answer. He was busy adjusting the localized sensors in his watch. To the naked eye, the floor was peaceful. To Stephen, the air was a map of heat signatures and movement patterns.

The silence was shattered by a frantic shout from a hundred meters ahead. "Hey! Stop! You can’t take that! Guards!"

A man in a sleek grey hoodie had vaulted over a jewelry counter, a velvet tray of high-grade watches tucked under his arm. He hit the marble floor at a dead sprint. This wasn’t a random thief; the Gilt Rats had recruited this man specifically for his legs. He moved with the explosive speed of a track athlete, weaving through the morning shoppers with practiced ease.

"Crap, he’s too fast! We’ll never catch him before he hits the stairwell!" Arthur yelled, reaching for his radio.

He felt a sudden rush of air, a localized gale that whipped his tie over his shoulder. In a blur of blue and black, Stephen was gone.

Stephen didn’t just run; he accelerated with a mechanical efficiency that defied the laws of momentum. He didn’t look like he was exerting himself, yet he closed the hundred-meter gap in a matter of seconds. To the shoppers, he was a streak of blue. To the thief, he was a nightmare that suddenly appeared at his shoulder.

Stephen reached out, his hand moving like a viper. He gripped the back of the thief’s neck, the strength in his fingers far exceeding anything a normal man should possess. With a sharp, controlled motion, he slammed the man face-first into the marble floor. The impact was loud enough to make the nearby glass cases rattle, and every bit of air was driven from the thief’s lungs in a pained wheeze.

Stephen pinned the man down, his knee pressing into the small of the thief’s back. "Don’t make me hurt you," Stephen said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

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