Yamamoto's expression suddenly changed as he glanced into his rearview mirror. The Audi, which had been glued to his tail, suddenly swung wide toward the outer lane.
"Damn it! Is this idiot actually trying to overtake me from the outside on a corner with that level of drifting skill? Fine, let's see how you pull it off. You dared to underestimate me—you'll pay the price. Go to hell!"
Zhuifeng shifted to the outer lane, and when Yamamoto didn't move to block him, a confident grin spread across his face. Slamming the gas pedal to the floor, the Audi surged forward, closing the gap to just half a car length.
Both cars entered the drift simultaneously.
Yamamoto began to smile as well, though his grin was far more sinister.
As Zhuifeng straightened his car and prepared to accelerate, he noticed something strange—the Mazda's tail hadn't completed its drift. Instead, it swung back aggressively, heading straight for the front of his Audi!
"Damn it!" Zhuifeng cursed, locking his tires to avoid a collision. He could only watch helplessly as the Mazda darted toward the next turn.
"Dirty tricks, huh? Alright, if you want to play that way, I'll play along!" Zhuifeng growled, his temper flaring.
But despite his bravado, Yamamoto's relentless dirty tactics left him with no openings.
Turn after turn, the Mazda cut him off, forcing him to back off repeatedly. Zhuifeng's frustration mounted, and soon it reached a boiling point. But perhaps it boiled over a bit too far.
Yamamoto, too, was starting to feel the strain.
This wasn't as easy as it looked. Unlike casual driving, such aggressive maneuvers took a toll on even the most experienced racer. "Damn kid! You're playing dumb just to catch me off guard, aren't you? Fine, if you want more, I'll give you more! Let's see if you still have any fight left!"
He had conveniently forgotten that he was the one who had underestimated Zhuifeng in the first place.
A new corner loomed ahead. As Yamamoto approached the apex, he yanked his handbrake and turned sharply, forcing the rear of his car to swing outward in yet another attempt to block Zhuifeng.
"You're pulling this crap again?" Zhuifeng muttered. Though he hesitated for a split second, his frustration overrode his caution. "Fine, let's settle this!"
Instead of downshifting, Zhuifeng charged into the corner at full throttle in sixth gear.
The moment he hit the apex, reality struck.
"Crap! Have I lost my mind?!" Zhuifeng yelled, frantically spinning the steering wheel as though his life depended on it.
But his speed was simply too high. The front wheels overshot the apex, and despite his best efforts, the steering wheel refused to respond in time. The inevitable result? The Audi's nose veered directly toward the side of Yamamoto's car.
Yamamoto had been feeling smug, convinced that he had once again forced Zhuifeng to back off. He was even preparing to laugh in victory when he caught a glimpse of the Audi in his rearview mirror—and froze.
His mind raced as he processed the situation. To avoid a collision, he had only two options:
Accelerate immediately to widen the gap. However, his car's top speed was already inferior to the Audi's, and with such limited time, this wasn't a viable option. Slam on the brakes and let the Audi pass.
A veteran racer through and through, Yamamoto gritted his teeth and made the painful decision. He hit the brakes hard, allowing Zhuifeng to surge ahead.
"…Incredible! Simply incredible! Now this is what we expect from the Wind God!" Mu Xin exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. "Turn after turn, the Wind God was forced to yield to Yamamoto's aggressive moves. But now, Yamamoto himself has fallen victim to the same tactic! Is this what they call karma? Haha!"
Her sweet laughter echoed through the speakers, sending a ripple of warmth through the audience. Fortunately, Zhuifeng and Yamamoto couldn't hear her, otherwise, hehe, they would've caused a traffic accident.
Audiences are nothing if not fickle. The same people who had been lamenting Zhuifeng's earlier mistakes now erupted into cheers as he reclaimed the lead with daring maneuvering.
In the Zhongshen Racing Team tent:
Watching Zhang Song return with a dejected expression, the team director raised an eyebrow. "Zhang Song, didn't you go to gather information? What's with the long face?"
"Director, you might want to go yourself," Zhang Song muttered, clearly irritated.
"Come on, what happened? You didn't crash into someone, did you? Spill it—what's got you so worked up?"
Zhang Song shot a glare at the speaker. "Crash? It might as well have been! I swear, those people over there are impossible to deal with!"
"Is that so?" Suiying, the team's top driver, scoffed as he stood up. "Let's see what kind of people they are. Everyone, come with me. Let's see if they're really that tough!"
Zhang Song shook his head. "It's pointless. You'd just embarrass yourself. Some of the people over there are the same ones I saw with the director at the signing ceremony with the Oriental Group."
"…You're saying they're connected to government officials?" Suiying asked, his tone losing some of its edge.
"Try the mayor's daughter and the education bureau chief's son. Does that count?" Zhang Song replied dryly.
Suiying fell silent. "There's no way government kids would be into illegal street racing… right?"
"Go see for yourself," Zhang Song said with a shrug.
The director frowned, deep in thought. "It seems this Wind God must have some serious connections. Still, there's no rush. We can find out more after the race. The mayor's daughter isn't exactly hard to track down."
Back on the track:
"Japanese bastard! You think you're so tough? You're in my territory now!" Zhuifeng wiped the sweat off his brow, his confidence returning as he grinned at the road ahead.
Suddenly, struck by inspiration, Zhuifeng rolled down his window, stuck his hand out, and flipped Yamamoto the middle finger—a universal gesture of defiance.
It just so happened that a cameraman was positioned nearby. Seizing the moment, the cameraman captured the gesture and immediately broadcasted it to the mountaintop audience.
"…Well…" Mu Xin froze for a moment, struggling to find the right words. As a professional TV host, she couldn't react like the screaming spectators, who were now on the verge of losing their minds. Professionalism demanded restraint—much to her frustration.
Back in the pit:
"Crap. Boss just caused trouble," Liu Tang muttered under his breath.
"What's wrong?" Yaoyao asked, confused.
Huang Mao and the others were equally puzzled. "Trouble? No way! That's how you make a statement! Isn't that right, Brother Liu?"
Liu Tang sighed in exasperation. "You guys are too caught up in the moment. Don't you realize that this will only enrage Yamamoto? And wasn't that exactly what we were worried about earlier?"
Reality soon proved Liu Tang right.
"Damn it!" Yamamoto roared as he recovered from being forced off the road. The moment he released the brake, he caught sight of Zhuifeng's provocative gesture.
"You Chinese bastard! You dare to disrespect me?! Fine! If you want to die, I'll gladly help you!"
Consumed by rage, Yamamoto slammed the gas pedal to the floor. His eyes burned red with fury as he fixated on the Audi ahead, transforming into a predator in pursuit of his prey.
What followed was Zhuifeng's most thrilling—and dangerous—stunt yet…