From Bullets To Billions Chapter 366: Send The Next One

Joe looked Nonto up and down, carefully taking in his appearance. The man carried himself like a hardened veteran, his arms folded over a chest built from decades of battles. Even the way he walked radiated quiet confidence. Joe could tell instantly, this opponent was not like the others he had faced today.

’I’ve taken down big guys before, back when I went up against the Blackhound,’ Joe thought as he glanced over his shoulder toward Max, who stood silently watching. ’But this feels... different. This guy isn’t just big. He’s experienced. Every step he takes looks calculated.’

"Are you sure there isn’t anyone else that’s a better fit?" Joe asked, trying to sound casual. "Maybe it would be better if you called one of the other Rangers? You know, I am a little tired after fighting so many people."

Joe didn’t look tired at all, his movements were still crisp and sharp, but part of him genuinely wanted to buy time. His knuckles ached slightly from the dozens of jabs he had thrown earlier, but they held up well thanks to the strength training he had done. His punches no longer hurt his own hands like they used to.

"You’re the only person I called," Max replied firmly. "So don’t expect anyone else to e out and save you. I figured just two of the Rangers would be enough."

The term Rangers caught a few of the Fortis guards’ attention. They exchanged confused glances, quietly muttering. They had never heard that title before and could only guess it was some kind of code or internal ranking system within the mysterious Billion Bloodline Group.

"Yeah... I expected as much," Joe said with a half-smile, shaking his head. "No wonder none of the others spoke up. They knew this was ing."

"Take it as a pliment," Max told him, his voice carrying enough weight to hush the murmurs around them. "That’s how much I trust you. So go out there, and do what you do best."

Joe let out a breath through his nose. He thought briefly of the other Bloodline members, Rick, the students, even some of the older veterans Max manded. They were talented, no doubt, but Max hadn’t chosen them. He had chosen him. It meant Max was keeping this secret life carefully separated from the rest of the Bloodline group, sharing it only with the select few he called Rangers.

"Alright," Joe muttered. "I guess I really don’t have a choice then."

He walked up onto the sparring mat, squaring his stance. The digital bell chimed. Joe immediately raised his fists high, snapping forward with two quick jabs to test the waters.

The blows landed clean on Nonto’s stomach, but it felt like punching a stone wall. The man’s torso didn’t even shift. Joe gritted his teeth, sliding to the side, trying to angle for a better target. He lunged up, aiming for the chin, but Nonto slid a step back and raised his hand like a wall.

A sudden shove to Joe’s forehead knocked him off balance. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was precise, like a cat swatting a mouse just to toy with it.

’e on,’ Joe thought, his eyes narrowing. ’I’ve dealt with people taller than me, with longer reach than me. I just have to be braver. I have to get in close.’

He darted forward again. This time Nonto struck, launching a sudden straight punch. Joe just barely slipped to the side, weaving his head away. He stepped in, throwing a fast cross toward Nonto’s jaw.

At the last instant, Nonto tilted his head. Joe’s fist collided with the top of his forehead instead of the chin. Pain shot through Joe’s knuckles, a dull shock up his wrist. He hissed through his teeth but forced himself to stay focused. In the past that hit might’ve fractured his hand, but he had strengthened them enough to endure it.

Joe drew back for another strike, switching to his left hand. He threw a straight punch, but this time Nonto didn’t evade. His palm shot out, parrying Joe’s fist away with a sharp smack. His other hand clamped down hard on Joe’s shoulder like a steel claw.

"Ghh, !" Joe winced as pain shot down his arm.

In the same motion, Nonto twisted and hurled him off the ground. Joe’s feet left the mat, he saw the ceiling spin, and then he slammed flat onto his back. The wind blasted out of his lungs. Before he could suck in air, Nonto’s shadow fell over him. A massive fist was already ing down toward his face.

Joe froze. The fist stopped a hair’s breadth from his nose.

"I... I lost," Joe admitted quietly, forcing himself to stay still.

"B Rank," Wolf called out from the sidelines, clipboard in hand.

"Only a B?" Nonto muttered as he straightened up. It was the highest rank anyone had earned so far, but he didn’t argue the score. He simply dusted his hands and walked calmly off the mat.

Wolf’s eyes, however, flicked toward Joe with a knowing glimmer. He had previously rated Joe as a C when assessing him back at their old training grounds. This was a big jump forward. Joe had improved significantly, his speed, his focus, his resilience. But Wolf had also seen the flaws that capped him at B.

’Joe’s managed to win most of his fights because no one here knew how he fought,’ Wolf thought silently. ’But Nonto read him from the start. Joe’s style is built on predictable patterns, jab, jab, weave, step-in, and once someone with enough skill deciphers the rhythm, they can shut him down pletely. Nonto’s been in this game long enough to do exactly that.’

Joe rose slowly, clutching his sore shoulder. He wasn’t badly injured, but the slam rattled him. As he walked back toward Max, he replayed every move in his head, analyzing what went wrong. He wasn’t upset. He was determined. He knew exactly what he had to improve now.

"Well done," Max said as Joe passed him. "Take a break."

Joe gave a small nod, still breathing steadily, and moved off to the side to sit with Wolf.

Max then turned back to the sparring floor, his sharp eyes cutting across the line of guards.

"Alright," Max said, his voice calm but carrying through the room. "With that match done, let’s move to the next one I want to see."

Nesa glanced at her tablet to confirm the next name. Max didn’t need her to announce it though, he already knew.

"Send Darno in," Max ordered, his smile faint but icy. "He can go against Wolf."