Max enshrouded his face with the mask he made from his hands. He was perplexed about what to do.

"What are you doing?" asked John, as he had yet to understand what overwhelmed Max all of a sudden.

Max revealed his face from the hand mask and answered with a sigh. "I haven’t read a single book about strategies and logistics. I know nothing of past victories. I read mythology all the time."

John shook his head. "I can’t see how that is a problem. The aspirant test will start in seven days. There is a whole week to study."

Max scowled and stared at his uncle with raised eyebrows. "Are you really saying that? There are hundreds of classical strategies, if not thousands, and an equal number of wars that have happened over centuries. How am I going to read all that in a goddamn week?"

"Well." John winked at Max. "Aren’t you my super handsome duper genius nephew?"

Max sighed again.

John stood up and rubbed his shoulders. "How about I take you boys to a party, freshen your mood, leer at chicks?"

He took out a pocket watch to check the time and continued. "It must have started already. I had no plan to attend it, but just for you guys. Mhm? What do you say?"

"I don’t know," Max retorted. "Ask Thane."

John then turned his sight to the second teen. "What’s your call, big guy? The party would be fun. It’s hosted by the owner of an underground fighting company. You can see a lot of tough dudes, some of your size too, perhaps."

This piqued Thane’s interest. "Will there be someone like Edniot?"

"Who the fuck is Edniot?" John asked.

Thane looked at John. "Your breath must smell like rotten eggs."

John was caught off guard. "What?" That was all he could utter.

On the other hand, the gloomy Maximilian was now cackling. Tears gathered around his eyelids as he folded his arms around his belly.

John was not aware of Thane’s no-cursing policy, but Max was, and as a third person, it was a hilarious moment.

"Oh, Thane... oh dear Thane." Max got up.

Thane was not acting; he actually had a firm belief that cursing would give one bad breath.

"Let’s go," said Max. He then turned his head towards Hawk, who was still there. "You are coming as well."

"Why him?" John inquired.

"We may need him there."

The smile vanished from John’s face as he said, "Am I not strong enough, Max?" His emotions were hit.

He thought that his nephew believed he was not strong enough to protect him.

"Will you fight for me in the arena?" Max was blunt and direct. He wanted to let his uncle know his intentions.

John stayed silent for a moment before he snapped. "Wait... no. It’s a party, not a fighting event."

"Then turn it into one. You can do that for your only nephew, can’t you?" Max cajoled his uncle. He knew where to press.

John sighed. He scratched his white, shiny hair. "You are a piece of work."

"Who told you to teach me your ways? I am nothing but a better version of you," remarked Max about himself, and his tone showed he was proud of it.

John pulled Max by his ear. "You little shit, you are my better version?"

"Ow, ow, ow."

Thane and Hawk both looked at Max. He looked happy. No, he was happy around his uncle.

"What’s the plan?" John asked Max before sitting on the chair.

Max also went back to his chair that was on the other side of the table, where almost the entirety of the casino could be seen.

He leaned back in the chair. "There is a man called Vidu Morris. Have you heard of him?"

"Yeah, he is a big name in gambit grounds," John answered.

Max nodded before asking another question. "Will he be there?"

John shook his head in the negative.

Max clicked his tongue and stood up. "Let’s go. My plan works if he is there," he said and moved towards the door.

"And if he isn’t?" John asked.

"Then we enjoy the party, freshen our mood, and leer at girls." He winked at his uncle and opened the door.

John anxiously looked at his nephew as he left the office. He wanted to know more. Vidu Morris was not a man of mediocrity.

His name carried authority and impendence.

He hurriedly followed behind.

Thane and Hawk were the only ones left behind.

"Who is this guy, Vito?" Thane wanted to know the context.

"His name is Vidu, Vidu Morris. Morris is not a clan or family name. It’s his father’s name, who was also a good fighter.

He is the owner of an illegal underground fighting organization named The Pit.

The Pit is currently the sixth biggest fighting league in revenue. However, when it comes to the number of fighters, it is ranked second.

Master Maximilian has shown interest in acquiring it," Hawk slowly clarified.

Thane looked at him with a strange expression. "Why does he need a fighting club when he owns this lavish casino? I doubt that can earn as much as this casino."

"Master Maximilian is an ambitious person, Sir Pixiu," Hawk answered.

"You call me Thane when we are alone."

"Master Thane, it is then."

"No, just Thane."

"That I cannot do."

"Why?"

"You are Master Maximilian’s friend, thus a master to me," Hawk politely explained.

"All his friends are your masters?" Thane was persistent.

"You are his only friend." So was Hawk.

Thane opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He gave up with a long sigh and went on his way outside when he heard Hawk. "There is also another reason."

"What now?" Thane was irked. His walk wasn’t halted.

"You are the bearer of the Pixiu Mask. That’s something even Mr. White doesn’t possess."

Thane stopped his steps when he heard those words and reflexively looked at the mask he was holding in his hand.

’Why would he trust a stranger like me to this extent?’ he asked himself.