Two hundred million.
It was the kind of number that most people couldn't even comprehend, an amount that could build entire districts from the ground up. Parks, housing blocks, schools, and even hospitals… All of it could be constructed in underprivileged areas with that kind of money.
And here it was, being wagered on a fight. A single, underground brawl.
If the general public ever caught wind of something like this, there would be riots in the streets. Outrage wouldn't even begin to cover it. The injustice of it all, how the wealthy could toss around absurd amounts of money like it was pocket change, was enough to ignite a revolution.
Max felt it too.
Not the fury of the masses, but the very real ache in his chest, brought on by the constraints of the Vow. Putting that kind of money on the line made his heart race for reasons beyond nerves. If he lost… how much weaker would he become? How long would it take to recover? Could he even earn back that sum without exposing himself?
