Under the attendant's direction, Zhong Yun lit the car—just one press of a button. He felt the slightest tremor as the engine caught, and an immediate surge of excitement coursed through him.

“This is the accelerator, and this is the brake… Ah—” The attendant’s words were cut short as she was yanked forward by immense force. Completely unprepared, she let out a terrified scream.

Zhong Yun had pulled the car out of its parking spot, just a little too fast.

“You don’t even say anything before driving off, if an accident happens…”

Before the attendant could finish her complaint, Zhong Yun stomped the accelerator. The speed instantly shot up to one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, the resulting gust of wind silencing her mid-sentence.

The attendant’s face went pale. This was a novice driver. Panic seized her, and her hands trembled as she fumbled with the seatbelt, having to click it shut three times before it finally caught.

Just as she let out a breath of relief, she saw a ninety-degree turn approaching not far ahead. The car wasn’t slowing down at all, hurtling straight toward the retaining wall.

“Ah—” She shrieked, burying her face in her hands. It was over.

Screeeeech—

A sharp grinding sound ripped through the air, grating painfully against her eardrums, drowning out the attendant’s cry. Simultaneously, she felt her body being thrown sideways, the seatbelt biting painfully into her shoulders.

Hearing the rushing wind beside her ears remain undiminished, yet the expected impact never came, she cautiously opened her eyes. Ahead lay a perfectly straight road; the corner had vanished. She glanced behind her—the ninety-degree turn was long past.

Her face was a mask of disbelief. How had they made it? Her head felt dizzy.

At that speed, even her idol, the legendary God of Racing, might not clear such a narrow and sharp curve.

Could he actually be a master? She turned to look at Zhong Yun. On the boy’s otherwise ordinary face, his eyes seemed to burn, blazing with an infinite thrill.

In that moment, she found an unconventional allure on his otherwise unremarkable face, something that made her heart pound.

Faintly, voices drifted in. Zhong Yun spotted an exit. He pressed the accelerator harder, and the red car shot through the exit like a bullet.

A sudden roar of voices instantly enveloped them both. Zhong Yun took in the scene ahead: a colossal racetrack where dozens of sports cars were tearing past in a blur. The sound of the vehicles ripping through the air at high velocity was intoxicatingly beautiful.

Above the track, a massive real-time panoramic display was split into several screens, tracking the progress of several key race cars.

The grandstands surrounding the circuit were packed with people, screaming their lungs out to cheer on their favorite drivers. The air itself seemed to ignite with the crowd’s fervor.

Zhong Yun’s blood instantly caught fire. Without pausing for a second, he steered into the main lane, spotting a car ahead, and mashed the pedal to close the distance.

Seeing someone trying to overtake him, the driver in question squeezed his vehicle sideways, blocking the red car behind. “Little punk, you think you can pass me? You’re still too green.”

He glanced at the license plate of the red sports car: 001313. He hadn't heard of it; it must be a rookie or a total scrub.

Sports car racing was an emerging, retro extreme sport, passionately embraced by the youth for its sheer intensity. Countless adrenaline junkies joined the sport to savor the ultimate rush of speed.

In just a few short years, racing clubs had sprung up like bamboo shoots after a spring rain in every major city, and each club had developed a roster of elite drivers, each possessing a dedicated license plate number. In this world, the plate number was the driver’s honor.

001313 was an unfamiliar tag, which is why the driver concluded the car behind was either a novice or a nobody. Thinking this, his excitement waned; winning against a scrub held no appeal.

He’d been racing for three years and had earned a modest reputation; he was definitely considered a veteran.

A curve appeared five hundred meters ahead, and his spirit lifted. Rookie, let me give you a lesson you’ll never forget, he thought.

The red car stayed glued to his bumper, clearly relentless in its pursuit. He frowned; staying that close was insane. At their current speed of nearly three hundred kilometers, even a slight tap could result in a rollover.

He gritted his teeth and refused to slow down. The upcoming turn wasn't too sharp. Although he’d never attempted a corner at three hundred, he believed he could manage it.

Five hundred meters vanished in the blink of an eye. As the turn rushed closer, his heart hammered. His foot instinctively hit the brake pedal; he couldn't withstand the pressure any longer.

Just as he began to brake, a red shadow flashed past him like a phantom. The tail end of the red car flicked out subtly, and it completed the turn without any discernible drop in speed.

CRUNCH!

His car slammed straight into the nearby guardrail. The airbags instantly engulfed him. He remained frozen in a stunned expression, his eyes wide open, watching the red shadow vanish around the next bend.

Am I dreaming?

Even now, he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.

The attendant beside Zhong Yun gripped the grab bar until her knuckles were white, her face ashen. She had just watched this maniac practically graze the other car while passing it—and on a corner, no less.

At nearly three hundred kilometers an hour, she distinctly felt the chassis tilt. As they scraped past the other car, the owner’s stunned, vacant face seemed burned into her memory.

Though she knew her life wasn't in immediate danger, facing such peril for the first time triggered an uncontrollable fear. Her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst free.

The wind stung her face, drying the sweat on her brow before it could even form. In the areas sheltered from the wind, however, she was drenched, as if she’d just been pulled from water.

Up ahead, two more cars appeared, locked in a fierce, uncompromising battle, neither willing to yield. Zhong Yun was faster and quickly caught up to them.

The track wasn’t wide, only four lanes across. If the cars ahead intentionally blocked you, overtaking wasn't easy; the only real opportunity was in the turns, which demanded supreme skill.

The two leading cars were entangled, weaving left and right, consuming the entire width of the lanes. But Zhong Yun showed no sign of slowing. Seizing a fleeting chance, he sliced past the trailing car.

The driver who was passed had focused all his attention on the car ahead, never anticipating someone cutting in from the outside. He was overtaken before he realized it.

He felt a surge of frustration, then witnessed the scene that would be etched into his memory forever.

He was running parallel to the car in front, separated by barely ten meters. About fifty meters ahead lay a massive curve. Both of them were hugging the innermost lane. The red sports car that had just passed him was on the adjacent lane.

His own speed was two hundred and fifty kilometers per hour—the absolute fastest he could manage through that corner. The red car, however, had to be pushing three hundred.

Fifty meters disappeared in less than a second. Acting on instinct, he prepared to brake for the bend.

It was then he saw the utterly bizarre sequence of events: the car in front momentarily hesitated, and the red car moved. It suddenly angled sharply across into his lane.

Then, like a ghost, it zipped through the gap created by the lead car drifting wide during its turn. A shower of sparks erupted as the two vehicles narrowly passed each other.

The lead car instantly lost control, spinning like a top before crashing violently into the side barrier.

The red car, however, had already cleared the bend and disappeared.

001313—who exactly are you? He brought his car to a halt, a massive question mark forming in his mind.

P: I was delighted to see a flower rating appear on the evaluation board.