Chapter Eleven: The Golden King Cobra

Compared to other circuit races, drag racing is more straightforward and intense. Aside from testing a car's performance under extreme conditions, the main focus is on the driver's launch speed and gear-shifting timing.

But in this contest between individuals, if you ignore driving skills and look only at the machines, even though Mo Shu stripped down the ALS to lighten its weight, facing Ai Chi Xiang's so-called "Golden Taipan"—a heavily modified muscle car—there was still a significant power gap.

The two drivers were ready now. Before them stretched a straight track of about 1.5 kilometers. The rules were simple: start simultaneously, and whoever reaches the finish line first wins.

Ai Chi Xiang wore a face eager to crush Mo Shu to dust, occasionally revving his engine as a provocation.

"Remember the tips I gave you!" Geng Hua leaned into Mo Shu's car, offering some last advice.

"Relax... I already beat you..." Mo Shu, ever candid, replied.

"Why do you two talk so much?" Ai Chi Xiang grumbled incessantly.

Geng Hua shot Ai Chi Xiang a cold glance, then left the track, picking up his helmet.

Meanwhile, the piercing screech of tires grew louder. Both cars' engines roared, tires spat thick white smoke as friction with the ground intensified.

"Ready... go!"

The moment the helmet was tossed, both cars shot forward almost simultaneously.

Despite Ai Chi Xiang's sharp tongue, he proved a formidable opponent once the race began.

After both achieved nearly perfect launches, the "Golden Taipan" immediately showcased its superior horsepower, gradually leaving the ALS behind.

Mo Shu, though trailing, remained calm, muttering to himself as if calculating something.

"Five, four, three, two, one—now!" Geng Hua clenched his fists, counting down in sync for Mo Shu.

Suddenly, the ALS engine screamed at high RPM, twin exhausts spewing dazzling tongues of flame. Mo Shu felt an irresistible surge pressing him firmly into the seat.

From his leading position, Ai Chi Xiang noticed the strange behavior of the ALS behind him.

"Hmph, who would've thought—a civilian car fitted with N2O..." Ai Chi Xiang snorted, flipping his own nitrous switch.

Both cars, one chasing the other, tore down the track like flaming beasts skimming the earth.

They'd covered half of the 1.5 kilometer course. Ai Chi Xiang relaxed, humming a tune, convinced victory was certain—when a voice shouted outside his window: "Eat dirt, classmate! Goodbye!"

Ai Chi Xiang was stunned. How—how was he catching up?

But it was too late. The "Golden Taipan" had already reached its top speed.

Crossing the finish line second, Ai Chi Xiang's face was ashen, lips bluish. He sluggishly parked by the roadside, grudgingly squeezed out, "If you want me to call you brother, fine—but can you tell me how you beat me?"

Mo Shu smiled lightly: "Go see for yourself..."

Ai Chi Xiang circled the conspicuously modified ALS several times, finally stopping before its glowing-hot engine.

He suddenly realized, "A wet multi-point injection system for the nitrous? Independent injectors mounted right on the intake manifold? Wang Yu, does your grocery-getter really need such insane gear?"

Wang Yu shrugged, "You’re talking gibberish—I don’t understand. Mo Shu just installed that before the race..."

"What? He set it up in just a few minutes? And Mo Shu, you're crazy to always carry a nitrous kit!"

Mo Shu pointed at Geng Hua with a grin, "Ask him—he’s the one who brings whole setups along."

Geng Hua's icy expression twitched slightly, thinking Mo Shu really knew how to make the most of any opportunity.

Ai Chi Xiang, who’d boasted earlier, was now caught between a rock and a hard place, scratching his head and mumbling, "Mo..."

The all-important word "brother" was on his lips when a voice suddenly barked, "Well, I’ve seen everything now—forcing someone to call you brother!"

Mo Shu glanced irritably at this unexpected intruder, but couldn't help bursting into laughter.

In the dark, the man wore sunglasses, flowing golden hair, and a gold racing suit—here to watch the action. Behind him trailed a gang, all in black racing gear.

"These guys—especially the leader—are real oddballs," Mo Shu thought.

Ai Chi Xiang, seeing the blond man, stammered even more, "Mirror... Mirror... Mirror Bro, what brings you here?"

"I came to see what you've done to my car," the blond man swaggered past them as if they were air, heading straight for the "Golden Taipan," lovingly stroking it.

Watching the man's affectionate touch, Mo Shu couldn't help blurting, "Brother? Isn't that a bit much? The car’s fine, and cars are meant to be driven, aren’t they?"

"Shut up. Don’t you know machines have feelings too!"

"Uh..." Mo Shu suddenly remembered the system’s AI girl in his mind—maybe she once had a mechanical body too—so he didn’t retort.

At that moment, Wang Yu tugged Mo Shu’s sleeve and whispered, "That’s the legendary Black Mirror, top driver of the Kunsheng Racing Team, two-time GTCC champion. They say he’s not just skilled, but also shrewd off the track. He’s not someone you want to mess with—stop teasing him."

No wonder the swaggering Ai Chi Xiang acted like a scared puppy around him. Mo Shu sized up the newcomer seriously.

Black Mirror seemed to have forgotten about standing up for Ai Chi Xiang. He continued inspecting his beloved "Golden Taipan," murmuring, "You’ve suffered, my little snake."

What a car-obsessed oddball!

After a while, Wang Yu cleared his throat, "Since your car’s unharmed, shall we head home and rest?"

Black Mirror didn’t even look up, just waved them away.

Mo Shu bristled—when the leader’s crooked, the followers can’t be straight. He was ever more convinced Kunsheng Racing was the embodiment of that saying.

Wang Yu signaled with his eyes, slung an arm around Mo Shu’s shoulder, and led him toward their cars.

"Wait..."

Barely a few steps away, Black Mirror called after them.

Wang Yu turned, resigned, about to speak, but Black Mirror barked impatiently, "I wasn’t talking to you lot—go on!"

Then, switching suddenly to a gentle tone—like talking to his car—he asked, "Hey, Yi Ning, when will you have time to come over to my place?"

Mo Shu was instantly agitated—Black Mirror dared to flirt with his teammate!

Wang Yi Ning didn’t turn, snapped, "We’ll see," shot Mo Shu a glare to warn him not to stir trouble, then slipped into her car and drove off.

Night deepened. After a day of excitement, everyone was exhausted. They left the auto mart, said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways.

Mo Shu made sure to exchange contacts with Geng Hua. The two, kindred spirits, chatted a bit before parting.

Returning to his car, Mo Shu held his phone, the screen lit with Wang Yi Ning’s number.

After a long moment, Mo Shu bit his lip, sighed, locked the screen, and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

With the RT500’s distinctive exhaust rumbling, Mo Shu drove the car he’d once only owned in dreams, disappearing into the vibrant night of Nanshan City.