Ethan sprinted towards the store's entrance, grabbing the man's shoulder and forcefully spinning him around. The man wore a mask, but Ethan recognized those eyes instantly—it was Leander!
Ethan quickly reached out, trying to tear off the man's mask, but Smith was quick, deftly twisting away from the approaching hand. With a sudden burst of strength, Smith broke free from Ethan's grip and bolted forward. As he rounded the corner, he used the turn to his advantage, speeding up and vanishing into the darkness. Exhausted from a sleepless night, Ethan knew he didn't have the stamina to keep chasing and reluctantly gave up. But he was certain—those sapphire-blue eyes couldn't be mistaken. It was definitely Smith. But why was he acting so mysteriously? Could it really be as Sherry had suggested? These thoughts left Ethan even more puzzled.
Vanka rushed over, his expression tinged with concern.
"Did you catch him? Could it be someone from Joseph's crew?" Vanka knew all too well how ruthless Joseph could be. If Joseph had them in his sights, their fate would be sealed, just like Ayrton's.
"Vanka, I'm sure it wasn't someone from Joseph's crew. I know this guy, but it's a complicated story that I can't explain in just a few words," Ethan said calmly.
"Vanka, I need to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. There's someone there who needs my protection. And, thank you for your help," Ethan added, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"Hey, it's nothing. Ethan, I'll be watching your race. Do your best!" Vanka said, his usually black face blending into the dark night, making his teeth appear even whiter.
After finishing his conversation with Vanka, Ethan hurried back to the hospital. From a distance, he saw Aria still sitting in the long, empty hallway. The cold, sterile walls framed her delicate figure, and the harsh fluorescent light cast a pale glow over her face, making her fatigue even more evident. Her hands were clasped tightly on her lap, yet there was an undeniable grace in her posture—a quiet strength that brought Ethan a deep sense of comfort just by looking at her.
Ethan approached and sat down beside Aria, speaking softly, "Aria, thank you." A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Thank me for what?" Aria asked innocently.
"For always being by my side." Ethan wasn't one for flowery words, and even this simple thank you had taken him a while to muster. Though he had never formally confessed his feelings to Aria, never even uttered the words "I love you," Ethan didn't really know if Aria understood his love for her either. But one thing was certain—since that moment at Fortress Omega when they chose to trust each other, their fates had become tightly intertwined, and Ethan had grown accustomed to having Aria by his side.
Ethan and Aria stood in the hallway as Dr. Braun, Elton's attending physician, approached them.
"Ethan, the patient is out of immediate danger." Upon hearing this, both Ethan and Aria let out a deep breath.
"Thank God! I knew the old guy would pull through. He's tougher than a turtle!" Ethan's tightly furrowed brow relaxed as he turned to Aria, waving his arms in relief.
"Shh, please keep your voice down. We don't want to disturb the patient," Dr. Braun cautioned. "Ethan, while he's not in immediate danger, the heavy impact to his head caused a cerebral hemorrhage. He can't wake up."
"What do you mean he can't wake up? What are you saying?" Ethan's brief moment of joy was quickly replaced by concern as his brow furrowed again.
"I mean temporarily. It could be a few days, maybe a few years, or in the worst-case scenario, he could be in a vegetative state," the doctor explained, his words hitting Ethan like a cold splash of water.
Ethan and Aria moved closer to Elton's room. They both stared through the window, separated by just a wall, yet it felt like an immense distance, dividing hope and despair into two different worlds. Their emotions swung like a pendulum, back and forth between hope and despair. Ethan kept his eyes fixed on Elton's bed.
"I believe in him. He will wake up," Ethan said with determination.
However, not everyone wanted him to wake up.
Inside Joseph's villa, the level of luxury was astonishing. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their brilliance dazzling. Expensive artworks and exquisite decorations were everywhere. The long table was adorned with costly wine bottles and elegant glasses, while a group of people sat around, discussing Elton. These villains, who had nearly killed Elton, felt no remorse whatsoever. They were seated at the table, sipping red wine, their laughter and conversation echoing with a sinister undertone.
Leading the mockery of Elton was Jesse, a former competitor who had failed to achieve much during his racing career. After retiring, he had aligned himself with Joseph, engaging in unsavory dealings and making a considerable fortune over the years.
"Elton became a beggar over a woman, ha ha ha, what a failure," Jesse said, shaking his wine glass and reclining with his leg propped up, his laughter filled with scorn.
"How is Elton now? Dead or alive?" Joseph's question instantly silenced the room. Here, Joseph was the absolute authority.
"Boss, the plan was executed, but there were some complications. He survived, but he's likely in a vegetative state. He'll probably spend the rest of his life in the hospital," One sycophant reported.
"Haha, being a vegetable is still better than begging in a bar. Elton's misfortune has turned into a blessing, I suppose." Jesse stood up, clapping his hands in approval, cheering along with his sycophants.
Jesse and his group continued their conversation, the clinking of glasses punctuating their words.
"Even though that loser has ended up in this pathetic state, there's no denying that his driving skills were truly exceptional."
One of Joseph's henchmen, a menacing figure, edged closer to Joseph and the others. His eyes glinted with malice as he made a slicing motion across his throat with his hand, indicating that he wanted to take out Ethan.
"Boss, should we deal with that Ethan?" he suggested, his voice dripping with menace.
Joseph, lounging in the center of the room on an opulent sofa, puffed thoughtfully on his cigar. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and replied, "Not yet. I still don't know who sent him or what his real purpose is. Let's keep him around for now."
The room fell into silence as everyone noticed Joseph had stopped speaking. The air was thick with a stifling quiet. The only sound was the occasional wisps of smoke curling lazily from Joseph's cigar, drifting upwards in the dim light.
Jesse's reference to "that woman" was about Elton's ex-wife, Lucy. Back when Elton was a top racer, he was renowned for his incredible skill, especially his signature move—using inertia to drift through corners, which struck fear into his competitors. 18 years ago, Elton won numerous trophies and was at the peak of his career. But during his final year of racing, his new wife, Lucy, had an affair with her doctor—who was also Elton's personal physician. Lucy was suffering from a heart condition, and this betrayal hit Elton hard.
One day, Elton came home early from a canceled qualifying race and caught Lucy in bed with the doctor. That moment shattered him. His personal life crumbled, and he divorced Lucy, leaving with nothing. Despite his once-devoted fans, who had idolized him for his racing prowess, they turned their backs when he faltered. The same fans who once adored him now cursed him for his downfall.
Before the fateful NASCAR race, Elton had said in a pre-race interview: "If I fail, then the whole country will turn against me." At that time, Elton was already struggling under immense pressure, reeling from the failure of his marriage and the weight of his past glory.
During that highly anticipated NASCAR event, Elton made a crucial mistake. He forgot to slow down for a corner, causing his front wheels to lose traction. The car skidded uncontrollably off the track, leading to a catastrophic crash. The fans who had once revered him were devastated. Their admiration turned to anger and disdain. They tore up Elton's posters and defaced his car with graffiti. From being hailed as a hero, Elton's reputation plummeted to that of a pariah.
The aftermath of that race left Elton completely disheartened. His confidence shattered, he fell from grace and became a shell of his former self. He drifted into obscurity, wandering through late-night bars and begging for scraps to eat. Once a celebrated champion, Elton now lived as a broken man, his name and glory erased from the NASCAR legacy.
This was Elton's past—an era he never spoke of, a dark chapter he wished to forget. It was the reason he harbored such resentment towards women and why he initially disliked Aria so much. However, Ethan's kindness had rekindled a glimmer of hope in the old guy's heart.