A Porsche and a Lamborghini were parked at the starting line, their engines roaring incessantly in the ears, like two beasts ready to choose their prey at any moment.
Inside the Lamborghini, Mi Tiangong clenched his teeth and said, "You must, you must win!"
Song Zibin rolled his eyes and said with some disdain, "Mr. Mi, losing to someone so obscure—it's unlikely, isn't it?"
Mi Tiangong exhaled a murky breath and replied, "You're right, I was just blinded by anger. You must use all your strength; I want him to be so thoroughly beaten he won't even know which way is north."
"Fine then," Song Zibin shook his head, feeling that such a competition was truly meaningless. If it weren't for Mi Tiangong's identity and the generous reward he offered, he really wouldn't have bothered to come here to race.
In his heart, he didn't place Su Weifeng in high regard at all; it would just be a casual race and winning would be that.
