The giant LED screen above the track flickered, sending a blue glow over the hundreds of students gathered below. They pushed and shoved, trying to get a better view of the bright white text appearing on the large screen. The brackets were being set.The first name appeared. Baron Thorn.The crowd cheered.“There he is! The king!”“Look at that car!”Baron’s silver Aston Martin Vantage GT3 sat under the floodlights like a sleeping shark. It was low, wide, and looked more like a fighter jet than a car. With a massive V8 engine and a body made of pure carbon fiber, it was built for the race track. It didn't just look fast, it looked hungry. Baron stood by the door, completely calm, as if the race was already over.The next name displayed. Emmanuel Geno.A wave of cheers followed, but they weren't as loud. His Mercedes Benz AMG C63 growled from the starting line. It was a beast with over 500 horsepower, but everyone knew the truth it was a street car. It wasn't a monster like Baron’s GT3

GREEN.The world turned into a blur of light and noise. Both cars launched forward at the exact same moment. The rear of the cars dipped low as the weight shifted, and the front ends lifted toward the sky. Tires screamed as they accelerated against the hot asphalt and thousands of horsepower fought for grip.But this time, Marcus didn't play around. He didn't wait for a second. The white hypercar launched like a weapon with no delay showing no mercy. It shot forward like a missile leaving a launchpad, violent, smooth, and perfectly controlled.Jackson’s face twisted in panic. He slammed his foot down harder, forcing his car for more. The Ferrari SF90 Stradale howled like a wounded animal. The twin turbo V8 screamed at the redline while the electric motors kicked in, pushing nearly 1,000 horsepower through the wheels.But Marcus was already gone.His carbon titanium monster gripped the track like it owned the ground beneath it. All four turbos spooled up at once, making a sound like a

For a long time after the roar of Marcus’s engine faded, no one moved.The white smoke from his tires still hung in the air like a ghost. Freya stood frozen, staring at the empty, dark road where he had vanished. Beside her, Emmanuel blinked slowly, his mouth slightly open.“Did… did that actually just happen?” he whispered.Freya let out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her shoulders finally dropped. “He didn't even stay for the trophy." she said, her voice full of wonder. “He just won everything and walked away.”Around them, the crowd was a mess. The loud, cocky shouting from earlier was gone. Now, there was only confusion. People looked at each other, their faces pale under the bright track lights. They looked uncomfortable.A tall guy by the stands rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. “Was that really him?” he asked his friend. “The same Marcus we were making fun of all night?”“No way." the friend muttered, shaking his head. “That couldn't have be

The man in the leather throne leaned back, a wry smirk formed across his face. He looked at Marcus like he was a bug on a windshield. The models around him didn't even hide their disgust, they whispered insults like they were spitting venom.“Look at him." one girl sneered, twirling a lock of hair. “He’s just a kid in a cheap hoodie. A little street rat playing dress up.”Marcus didn't blink, he didn't get angry, and he didn't even raise his voice. “If you think I’m a fake." Marcus said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “then you have nothing to worry about. Unless, of course, you can’t prove you own this place.”The man let out a harsh, jagged laugh. “Oh, you’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that. But look at you. You’re wearing clothes that cost less than my socks.” He snapped his fingers at a passing waiter. “Hey! Throw this trash out. He’s ruining my appetite.”The waiter stopped. She looked at the man, then she looked at Marcus. The moment her eyes landed on the boy in the hoodie,

Rosaria’s chest heaved, her breath came in heavy gasps, and her finger shook violently against the trigger. She looked like a cornered animal, terrified, but still ready to bite.Jack stood three steps away, unfazed by the weapon aimed at him.Beside her was Jeff. His eyes scanned the room nervously, and heavy beads of sweat covered his head.Jack adjusted his leather gloves, like he was preparing for a surgery.“Drop the weapon,” Jack said, his voice cold and commanding. “You get one easy choice. Or we do this the hard way.”Rosaria laughed half heartedly. “You think you scare me?” she snapped. “Do you even know who we are?”Jack smirked.“Yes.”“This is your last chance. Drop. "It"—Jack stretched the words.Suddenly, Jeff moved. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a folding knife. Then he swung it, aiming straight for Jack’s throat.At the exact same time—BANG!Rosaria fired.The bullet hit Jack in the thigh. His leg jerked back from the impact, but he didn't fall or groan.