After finally explaining everything he needed to, Max was relieved, no, grateful, that Aron had left.
Without wasting another second, he changed out of his flashy Billion Bloodline merch and into some normal gym wear. Nothing fancy. Just plain, forgettable clothes. Then he bolted out the door and headed straight for the meeting point.
I'm lucky Aron's the kind of guy who can be… persuaded, Max thought as he jogged down the street. And yeah, I know he'll throw himself into this mission like it's a full-blown blockbuster, but that's exactly what worries me. I just hope he makes it out okay.
Far on the outskirts of the city, past the last row of crumbling fences and half-dead streetlamps, was a wide, cracked field. Dusty. Forgotten. The kind of place you'd avoid unless you had business that preferred silence.
Several vehicles had pulled up on the brittle asphalt, their tires crunching against loose gravel. Aron stepped out of his car, his boots hitting the ground with purpose.
