"I have heared of her. "
Muller rested his arm over the steering wheel and put his chin on his arm.
"She was at Avatar's Cup race in the Ruhr last November and I wasn't there to support her, but I heared about Avatar's that baby right rearview mirror getting knocked right off and falling on the track and getting run over become a heap of debris, and he said a son of a bitch Japanese did it."
Santos knows Avatar's Harvick Davidson, who likes to race in his modified blue Toyota Supra, and Harvick loves to straight line drift , especially when the car is about to enter the finish line and drift sideways, which directly blocks the rear car's acceleration space and allows him to slide smoothly into the finish line.
But to do so is to gamble on the resilience, temperament and character of the driver behind them. If a driver charges straight up at high speed, Harvick and his Toyota risk flipping over and rolling right over the top of the car behind them.
After Havoc successfully executed this death drift several times during the race, the Berlin racing circuit dubbed him "Avatar" due to the color of his Toyota's body and the James Cameron movie as a way to mock his admiration for this primitive and violent driving technique.
"Avatar" once bragged to me that no one before him had dared to drift in a straight line the way he did. At the time, his Supra was parallel to another car, and they both drifted in a straight line almost simultaneously, the cars sticking together. The other car's rear bumper hit his Supra's rearview mirror. He said the other car was a pink GTR driven by some Japanese girl named Gotoh."
Santos nodded, "It's her, Gotoh Se. My family has some business dealings with the Gotoh family, so I have met her a few times."
"How did your family get involved with the Japanese?" Muller asked.
"The Gotoh family's main business is exporting cars to Latin America. They approached my father for some venture capital, so I've met that weirdo a few times at dinners." Santos chuckled and patted Miller's right shoulder. "Gray Wolf, it's not surprising. The second largest group of foreign immigrants in Brazil are Japanese. I've fucked a lot of Japanese women when I was in Brazil. My company has done more business with the Japanese than the number of times I've drifted through bend."
Santos chuckled, his eyes radiating a lecherous, lascivious glow as if he was reminiscing about a certain delightful taste.
"Have you talked to her?" Muller, who has now lit a cigarette, asked. "Do you want one before the drift starts?"
"No, I'm good. I'll smoke some marijuana after the race," Santos replied, glancing outside the window at the entrance of the Dimitri Bar. The prostitute there had finished vomiting, leaned against the railing behind her, and was smoking a lady cigarette. The sparks were flickering on her crimson lips, and the light blue smoke gathered and slowly dissipated.
The song "Lose Control" continued to play on repeat in the car, and the heavy metal rock notes were bouncing in Santos' eardrums.
"I only said one sentence to her," Santos said. "I was with my dad to have dinner with the Gotoh family. Halfway through, I couldn't stand that like the stupid pig party atmosphere, so I found an excuse to go downstairs and smoke some marijuana. I leaned against the AMG trunk and happened to see the freak crouching on the roadside.
"I said to her, 'Hey, Japanese.' She looked up at me and while I was smoking, I asked her how Tokyo was."
Santos suddenly laughed out loud. "But the freak didn't answer me. Her face suddenly turned as red as if she had drunk 10 tons of black beer, and her body shook violently. Then she stuttered and said a sentence in Japanese before quickly turning around and running away."
Muller asked with interest, "What Japanese phrase did she say to you?"
"'Sumimasen,' which means 'I'm sorry' in Japanese. I heard she can play the guitar well in addition to racing."
Muller sneered, "According to your description, along with the encounter with Avatar, I can imagine this scene in my mind," and his laughter grew louder. "A trembling lamb, but loves to eat cocaine-laced feed, listening to heavy metal rock, and then knocking down Harvey's crazy bull."
Muller covered his face with both hands, then slowly let go and said in English, "Oh my god, what a Japanese freak?"
He turned to Santos and asked, "Do you have her WhatsApp?"
Santos shook his head. "She's not my type, although she does look like she came out of some Japanese anime. But a crazy freak with mental illness is not to my taste. Grey Wolf, if you're interested in her, I can ask around."
"I'm indeed a bit interested after hearing your description," Muller laughed, but his smile disappeared quickly. "Is the race about to start?"
"Yes, the drone operator is ready and the drone has taken off to begin live streaming. The entire competition will be streamed in 8k high definition on your YouTube and Twitch channels," he said.
Santos knew how popular Muller was on social media. He had almost 800,000 subscribers on YouTube, mainly for his car modification videos, such as restoring a salvaged Dodge Viper to its original condition, experiencing underground races in first person, and live streaming. Although the number of followers on Twitch was not as terrifying as YouTube, it had already exceeded 300,000.
Just by playing on YouTube, Muller would earn tens of thousands of euros a month. However, he knew that this money might not be enough to buy a gearbox for him.
"Okay, I hope those pigs won't disturb us tonight."
Muller nodded. "If we're surrounded, we'll split up at different intersections. The maximum speed of a Berlin police car is not over 200 kilometers per hour, so it's easy to shake them off."
He glanced out the window. The deserted avenue was now filled with all kinds of modified sports cars with various logos, such as Mazda RX-7, Ferrari 812, and Mitsubishi Evo. Countless dazzling xenon lights tore apart the last bit of darkness in this area, flashing around and making Muller's eyes narrow slightly.
"Whether it's Ryonosuke Tadokoro or Gotoh Se, those Japanese lambs always think they can be like Nagata Katsuhiko."
Deep in Muller's pupils, a greedy and crazy dark current was slowly surging, gradually filling his entire gray eyes.
The voice that accompanied his sneer made Santos feel as if a thin layer of ice was crawling up his legs, covering his entire body, and finally freezing over his head, even the blood in his veins was solidifying.
"My duty is to completely tear apart the flesh and blood of these garbage with the wreckage of their cars, and mix them together."