From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 679

Chapter 679: Again

Although Max had dismantled the seniors in his immediate vicinity with terrifying speed, the remaining athletes across the hall hadn’t yet lost their nerve. A strange psychological phenomenon was at play—a mix of herd mentality and the stubborn confidence of numbers. They had watched Max endure a brutal, one-sided beatdown for a significant amount of time, and their logic dictated that he had to be weakened. Surely, a man who had been a literal punching bag ten minutes ago was running on fumes, his muscles torn and his stamina depleted.

Furthermore, these were not ordinary students. These were the elite of the sports department—men who had spent their entire lives being the fastest, the strongest, and the most dominant in any room they entered. Many of them had never lost a real fight, though that was likely because they had only ever picked fights with people who couldn’t fight back. Blinded by their own arrogance, the remaining thirty seniors let out a collective roar and charged ahead as one.

Max didn’t wait for them to reach him. He moved with an explosive grace that shattered any hope they had of him being "weakened." He leapt from his position, his body a blur of motion. As a fist whistled toward his head, he parried it with a casual flick and drove his feet into another attacker’s face, using the man’s skull as a stepping stone to vault higher. He landed with his weight crushing down on the first senior’s chest, immediately pivoting to meet the next wave.

Before another could close the gap, Max spun in a low, sweeping circle. His lead leg caught a rugby player in the temple, and he used that momentum to continue the spin, his other leg connecting squarely with a soccer player’s midsection. The force was so immense it sent the man flying backward, his body becoming a projectile that crashed into two other approaching athletes.

Two fists came at him simultaneously from left and right. Max ducked, the air from the punches ruffling his blood-matted hair. He grabbed the wrist of a third attacker, a large man who towered over him, and twisted it with a sharp, sickening snap. Without pausing to hear the scream, Max grabbed the center of the man’s heavy frame and executed a perfect suplex, slamming him into the hardwood floor with enough force to make the basketball hoop overhead rattle.

A kick landed on Max’s back, but his body barely nudged forward. He didn’t even look back as he sensed another kick coming from the front. Max swung his fist with the precision of a piston, hitting the incoming shin. The impact forced the attacker’s leg to swing back with such violence that it flipped the person entirely over in the air.

The freshmen watching from the sidelines were paralyzed. They didn’t even know what they were looking at anymore. There wasn’t a single break in the rhythm of the fight, no pause for breath, no hesitation. It was as if they were watching a high-budget action movie, but even that comparison felt inadequate. Some of the things Max was doing—the speed of his transitions and the sheer power of his strikes—didn’t seem possible within the laws of physics they understood.

"How could one person be so strong?" Eric whispered, his voice trembling as he watched his "student" dismantle a small army. "When he said he wanted to learn martial arts... he mentioned he had some experience, but I never imagined it was anything like this. I was a fool. I don’t think there is a single thing in this world I can teach a man like that."

"Haha, look at all of you!" Rick shouted, a smug, triumphant smile plastered on his face. "We told you from the very beginning. That is Max Stern, and he is our boss. He is the one person in this world that no one—and I mean absolutely no one—should ever mess with. You’re seeing the legend in the flesh."

"Well, when he’s finally done," Jono added, wiping a tear of relief from his eye, "I hope this university actually becomes a place worth coming to. He’s clearing out the rot."

The carnage continued until the final senior fell to the ground, clutching his broken body. The court was littered with the "elite" of the sports department, none of whom could find the will to stand back up. Whether they were physically incapacitated or their spirits had simply been crushed by the realization of the power gap, the result was the same.

Now, there was only one person left standing: Donto Stern.

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