Shen Congfei, after some thought, turned around and strode towards the crowd across the way, under the watchful eye of the gas station owner.
"Hehe."
The station owner, a cigarette in his mouth, started to chuckle at the sight.
The end of the world arrived, and modern entertainment was all but obliterated.
A brawl between two groups was now considered a decent diversion.
He rolled the cigarette from his mouth, issuing a puff of smoke as he quietly made a little wager with himself.
Would this odd fellow win? Or would the gang take the victory?
Shen Congfei, on the other hand, was doing exactly as the station owner anticipated.
He was now formally meeting with the so-called "Death Race" organizers.
"Hey, buddies, who's in charge here?"
As soon as he asked, all the 'Death car' racers and spectators turned to look at him.
They initially scrutinized the peculiar figure draped in layers, somewhat hunched over, then a man stepped forward:
