Chapter 141: Clashing Morals
It didn’t take long for the Rejected Corps to claim victory.
The restaurant floor was chaos incarnate, broken plates, shattered glass, overturned tables, and bodies. Chalkline Boys were scattered across the scene like discarded props, groaning or unconscious, blood smearing the tiles in streaks and pools. Some slumped over booths, others splayed on the ground, still twitching.
Despite the intensity of the fight, the Rejected Corps had only sustained two serious casualties, fighters who, by the looks of it, wouldn’t be joining the next battle anytime soon. Even so, compared to the damage they’d inflicted?
Minimal losses. Another brutal, overwhelming win for the Rejected Corps.
As for Max and Wolf, they’d come out of it without a scratch. No bruises, no blood, just a clean record and a healthy stack of knocked-out enemies. Both had taken out more than their fair share, and now stood near the entrance, breathing steady, barely winded.
Max looked around at the wreckage.
The place’s done for, he thought. Won’t be serving hot pot again anytime soon.
He scanned the battlefield, taking in the full picture, not just the victory, but the message it sent. The Chalkline Boys had been hit hard. Really hard. This wasn’t something they’d walk away from quietly.
They won’t just let this go, Max thought grimly. They’ll retaliate. And when they do, the Rejected Corps will need help again. Which means... they’ll come calling. Probably for me.
Down the middle of the room, Na walked through the aftermath with cold precision, checking on each fighter, assessing damage, collecting a mental report.
"They were tougher this time," Dud muttered, brushing blood off his knuckles.