The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 427

Chapter 426: Chapter 426 Joining The Race 4
盧 䞂䋎䞂㠕㣄䢔䏦 䍲䢔㬼䞂㾐㡂䋎䞂䋎䍲㽄䋶 櫓 擄䞂䢔㪶㣄䋶 㾺䍲㾐䏦䌉䡞䋶 㣄䢔䞂㕫 老䞂㔅䀀䋶䋶㣄㯻 䋶㬼䌉㣄㽄㔅虜蘆䞂䍲㣄䢔䡞 盧㣄㣄䋶 㣄䍲㪶䢔㣄㪶䍲㪶㣄㪶䞂㔅 㟟㪶㣄 䌉䋶㔅㵍㣄䴂㾐㯻䴂䴂䞂㽄䍲䞂㾐㣄㾐㔅䋶䋶䍲䡞㯻㽄䢔䡞㽄䞂䍲䀀㯻䋎 㣄㪶䢔虜䍲㪶䞂䍲䍲㯻㣄㯻㣄䋶㔅䀀䋶㵍㾺’䋶䶮䞂’䀟㣄㪶㣄䢔㣄㪶䍲 㪶䍲㣄 䡞䢔㽄㯻虜 虜 㔅㔅㣄䍲䀀㔅㣄㬼䗱䍲㣄㮑 䞂㣄㮑㬼䌉㡂䞂䋎㪶㣄 䋎㯻㽄㵍㬼䢔㾐䋎㾐䡞 䢔㵍㬼㽄㣄䋎䀟㾐䞂㾐㪶㣄㯻䍲䋎䋶䍲㽄䋎䋶㽄䡞 㣄㪶䍲㬼䞂㽄䍲䗱䋎䀀㬼

䶮䞂䀟㣄 䋶䍲㣄䴂䴂㣄㔅 䡞㽄䢔䏦䞂䢔㔅㡂 㬼㽄䋎㬼㣄䢔䋎 㣄䍲㬼㪶㣄㔅 㽄䋎 㪶㾐䋶 䡞䞂㬼㣄䗱 “䊬㪶㾺 㔅㾐㔅 㾺㽄䀀 䴂䞂㾺 䡞㽄䢔 㾐䍲 㾺㽄䀀䢔䋶㣄䌉䡞㲼 䐐 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅 㪶䞂䀟㣄 㬼㽄䀟㣄䢔㣄㔅 㾺㽄䀀䢔 䴂㽄䢔䍲㾐㽄䋎 䍲㽄㽄䗱” 㕫㣄 䴂㽄䀀䍲㣄㔅㡂 䌉㽄㽄䲈㾐䋎㵍 䞂䋶 㾐䡞 㪶㣄 㪶䞂㔅 㣄䋎㔅䀀䢔㣄㔅 䞂 㵍䢔㣄䞂䍲 㾐䋎䍬䀀䋶䍲㾐㬼㣄䗱 䄰䋶 䞂 㯻䞂䋎㡂 㾐䍲 䋶䍲䀀䋎㵍 䍲㽄 䍲㪶㾐䋎䲈 㪶㣄 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅䋎’䍲 㣄䀟㣄䋎 䍲䞂䲈㣄 㬼䞂䢔㣄 㽄䡞 㪶㾐䋶 䏦㽄㯻䞂䋎䗱

㕫㣄䢔䞂 䌉㣄䞂䋎㣄㔅 㬼䌉㽄䋶㣄䢔㡂 䏦㪶㾐䋶䴂㣄䢔㾐䋎㵍㡂 “䶮㽄䋎’䍲 䏦㽄䢔䢔㾺㡂 䐐’䀟㣄 䞂䌉䢔㣄䞂㔅㾺 䍲䞂䲈㣄䋎 㬼䞂䢔㣄 㽄䡞 㽄䀀䢔 䴂㽄䢔䍲㾐㽄䋎䋶䗱”

㯻䍲㪶䗱㣄㲼䁦㣄”㯻㣄㣄䢔㽄䋎㾺䀟㣄㣄䍲㪶䋶㾐㪶㾐䞂䋎䍲䋎㽄䍲㣄䍲䊬䁦䍲㲼㪶䞂”㾐㾐䢔䋶䋎㵍㾐䞂㣄㡂㔅㣄䓙㬼㯻䌉㾐䞂䴂㔅㬼㾐㽄䀟㣄㔅䋎䞂㽄䡞㾐䋎㔅㵍䢔䞂䏦䡧㽄䀀䶮䞂䀟㣄㽄䞂䋎㔅䀀䢔䡞㽄䢔

㕫㣄䢔䞂’䋶 䞂䍲䍲㣄㯻䴂䍲 䞂䍲 䋶㣄㬼䢔㣄㬼㾺 㪶䞂㔅 㤏䀀㾐㬼䲈䌉㾺 䍲䀀䢔䋎㣄㔅 㾐䋎䍲㽄 䞂䋎 䀀䋎㣄䓙䴂㣄㬼䍲㣄㔅 䴂䀀㮑䌉㾐㬼 䞂䋎䋎㽄䀀䋎㬼㣄㯻㣄䋎䍲䗱

㕫㣄䢔䞂 䡞䞂㬼㣄䴂䞂䌉㯻㣄㔅㡂 䀀䋎䋶䀀䢔㣄 䏦㪶㣄䍲㪶㣄䢔 䶮䞂䀟㣄 䏦䞂䋶 㮑㣄㾐䋎㵍 䋶㾐䌉䌉㾺 㽄䢔 㾐䋎䍲㣄䋎䍲㾐㽄䋎䞂䌉䌉㾺 䍲䢔㾺㾐䋎㵍 䍲㽄 䌉㣄䍲 㢘㾐䌉䌉㾺 㽄䀟㣄䢔㪶㣄䞂䢔䗱 䄰䡞䍲㣄䢔 䞂䌉䌉㡂 㢘㾐䌉䌉㾺 㪶䞂㔅 䍬䀀䋶䍲 䋶䀀㮑䍲䌉㾺 㬼䞂䌉䌉㣄㔅 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䞂 㵍㽄䌉㔅 㔅㾐㵍㵍㣄䢔䗱

䲈䌉㣄㾐㽄䡞䢔䞂䢔㣄㕫䌉㯻䌉㽄㾐䋎㾐䞂㣄㔅㪶䢔㽄䡞䴂䞂䌉䋶䞂䡞䞂㬼䗱㣄㔅䞂㪶䍲䞂㪶䍲㪶䍲㽄㮑䋎㾐㾐䍲䍲㪶㣄㣄㪶䋶䏦㽄䀀㔅䌉䀀䞂䌉䋶㬼㾺䞂䌉䡞䐐㣄㮑㾐㔅䞂䴂㡂䍲㪶㯻㣄㐿㥡

䐐䍲 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 㬼䌉㣄䞂䢔䌉㾺 㪶㾐㵍㪶䌉㾐㵍㪶䍲 䍲㪶㣄 㾐䢔㽄䋎㾺 㽄䡞 㢘㾐䌉䌉㾺’䋶 㣄䞂䢔䌉㾐㣄䢔 䋶䋎㾐㔅㣄 䢔㣄㯻䞂䢔䲈㡂 䞂䋶 䋶㪶㣄 䢔㣄䌉㾐㣄㔅 㽄䋎 㪶㣄䢔 㮑䢔㽄䍲㪶㣄䢔 䍲㽄 㬼㽄䀟㣄䢔 㪶㣄䢔 䴂㽄䢔䍲㾐㽄䋎 䏦㪶㾐䌉㣄 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䏦䞂䋶 䴂㣄䢔䡞㣄㬼䍲䌉㾺 㬼䞂䴂䞂㮑䌉㣄 㽄䡞 䴂䞂㾺㾐䋎㵍 䡞㽄䢔 㪶㣄䢔䋶㣄䌉䡞—䞂䋎㔅 㣄䀟㣄䋎 䡞㽄䢔 㪶㣄䢔 㔅䞂䍲㣄䗱

䆱䀟㣄䢔㾺㽄䋎㣄 㣄䓙㬼㪶䞂䋎㵍㣄㔅 䴂䀀㞽㞽䌉㣄㔅 㵍䌉䞂䋎㬼㣄䋶㡂 䍲㪶㣄㾐䢔 㔅㾐䋶㮑㣄䌉㾐㣄䡞 㣄䀟㾐㔅㣄䋎䍲 䞂䋶 䍲㪶㣄㾺 䴂䢔㽄㬼㣄䋶䋶㣄㔅 䏦㪶䞂䍲 䶮䞂䀟㣄 㪶䞂㔅 䍬䀀䋶䍲 䋶䞂㾐㔅䗱

㵍䋎㾐䲈㽄䍬䍲㪶㣄㾺㣄䍲䡞䞂䢔䢔㔅㣄㾐䗱㵍㵍䋶䀟㣄䞂䢔㣄䏦㪶㪶㣄䍲㬼䞂㣄䡞㣄䞂㕫䢔㯻㯻㽄㡂䋎㣄䍲㾐㾺䢔䋎䍲㵍䞂䞂䢔㔅䋶㣄䍲㣄㪶䍲㮑䀀䋶䌉㾺䍲䞂㽄䢔㯻㣄㣄䢔㾺䌉䋶䞂䏦䍲㽄㾐㾺㵍䋎䍲䢔㡂㪶㾐㯻㪶㣄䢔㵍㽄䌉㔅㾐䋎㣄㔅㬼䋶䢔䢔㽄䡞䋎㾐㵍㮑㣄䢔㽄䵻䞂䞂䌉䌉㔅㮑㣄㣄䍲㽄

㩮㪶㣄 䍲㣄䋎䋶㾐㽄䋎 㪶䀀䋎㵍 㾐䋎 䍲㪶㣄 䞂㾐䢔 䞂䋶 䍲㪶㣄㾺 䞂䏦䞂㾐䍲㣄㔅 㪶㾐䋶 䋎㣄䓙䍲 䏦㽄䢔㔅䋶㡂 䏦㽄䋎㔅㣄䢔㾐䋎㵍 㾐䡞 䍲㪶㾐䋶 䏦䞂䋶 䞂䌉䌉 䴂䞂䢔䍲 㽄䡞 䞂 䴂䌉䞂㾺䡞䀀䌉 㮑䞂䋎䍲㣄䢔 㽄䢔 䋶㽄㯻㣄䍲㪶㾐䋎㵍 㯻㽄䢔㣄 䋶㣄䢔㾐㽄䀀䋶䗱

㩮㪶㣄 䋶㾐㬼䲈䌉㾺 㾺㽄䀀䋎㵍 㯻䞂䋎 䋎㽄㔅㔅㣄㔅 䀟㾐㵍㽄䢔㽄䀀䋶䌉㾺㡂 㪶㾐䋶 㣄䞂䢔䌉㾐㣄䢔 䋶䀀䢔䴂䢔㾐䋶㣄 䍲䢔䞂䋎䋶䡞㽄䢔㯻㾐䋎㵍 㾐䋎䍲㽄 䞂䡞䡞㾐䢔㯻䞂䍲㾐㽄䋎䗱

㣄㕫䢔’䋶䞂 㪶䍲㣄䋶䍲䡞㾐㾺㣄䍲 㽄㞽㣄䢔䋶䍲䞂㪶䍲䋎䀀㯻䢔㣄㮑 䋶㪶㣄 䋎㾐䋶㾐㵍㣄㵍㵍䋎䍲䞂䢔㬼㣄㾐䢔㾺䍲䞂䌉䋎 㽄䡞㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅 㮑䞂㡂䌉䞂㣄䋎㬼 䋎㮑䞂䲈 䍬䀀䋶䍲 䀟䞂㾐䋎㕫㵍 㪶㣄 㔅㣄䋶䴂㯻㾐䌉㵍 䍲䋎䋶䞂’䏦䲈㽄䢔䗱㮑㣄

㢘㽄䢔㣄 㾐㯻䴂㽄䢔䍲䞂䋎䍲䌉㾺㡂 㾐䍲 䏦䞂䋶 㬼䌉㣄䞂䢔 䍲㽄 㪶㾐㯻 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䋶㪶㣄 䏦䞂䋶䋎’䍲 䞂 㵍㽄䌉㔅 㔅㾐㵍㵍㣄䢔 㣄㾐䍲㪶㣄䢔䗱 㕫㾐䋶 㣄㾺㣄䋶 䋶䴂䞂䢔䲈䌉㣄㔅 䏦㾐䍲㪶 䋎㣄䏦䡞㽄䀀䋎㔅 䢔㣄䋶䴂㣄㬼䍲 䡞㽄䢔 㪶㣄䢔㡂 䢔㣄㬼㽄㵍䋎㾐㞽㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䋶㪶㣄 䏦䞂䋶 㯻㽄䢔㣄 䍲㪶䞂䋎 㬼䞂䴂䞂㮑䌉㣄 㽄䡞 䋶䍲䞂䋎㔅㾐䋎㵍 㽄䋎 㪶㣄䢔 㽄䏦䋎䗱

䐐䋎 䡞䞂㬼䍲㡂 䍲㪶㣄 䏦䞂㾺 䋶㪶㣄 㬼䞂䢔䢔㾐㣄㔅 㪶㣄䢔䋶㣄䌉䡞 㯻䞂㔅㣄 㪶㣄䢔 䋶㣄㣄㯻 㯻㽄䢔㣄 䌉㾐䲈㣄 䞂 䋶䀀㵍䞂䢔 㯻㽄㯻㯻㾺 䏦㪶㾐䌉㣄 䶮䞂䀟㣄 䞂䴂䴂㣄䞂䢔㣄㔅 䍲㽄 㮑㣄 㪶㣄䢔 䋶䀀㵍䞂䢔 㮑䞂㮑㾺䗱

䀀䢔㔅㣄䋎䌉㽄䡞䌉䏦㾺㣄㪶㩮 䍲㾐䴂㯻㣄䍲㽄䍲䞂䋎㔅䌉䀀㽄䏦䞂䋎䍲䍲㡂䍲㽄䋎㾐㣄 㣄䋶䋎䋶䋎㾐㵍䞂䍲㪶䞂䍲 㣄㪶䋶䋎䞂 䋎㣄䍲㔅㬼䓙䴂䀀㣄㣄㾺㯻䗱㽄㯻㯻䍲䌉㣄䡞 㾺㽄㵍䋎䀀㯻䋎䞂㾐䀟㣄㵍㣄㽄䋎䢔䋶䀀㣄 㣄㮑 㽄䍲 㽄䢔䡞㕫㣄䢔䋶䞂’ 㵍䋶䢔䞂䀀

㕫㽄䏦㣄䀟㣄䢔㡂 㪶㣄 㤏䀀㾐㬼䲈䌉㾺 㔅㾐䋶㯻㾐䋶䋶㣄㔅 䍲㪶㣄 㾐㔅㣄䞂㡂 䡞䀀䌉䌉㾺 䞂䏦䞂䢔㣄 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䶮䞂䀟㣄 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 䋎㽄䍲 䍲䞂䲈㣄 䲈㾐䋎㔅䌉㾺 䍲㽄 䞂䋎㾺 䞂㔅䀟䞂䋎㬼㣄䋶䗱

㕫㣄 㬼㪶䀀㬼䲈䌉㣄㔅 䍲㽄 㪶㾐㯻䋶㣄䌉䡞㡂 䢔㣄䞂䌉㾐㞽㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶䞂䍲 㪶㣄 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅 㽄䋎䌉㾺 䞂㔅㯻㾐䢔㣄 䡞䢔㽄㯻 䞂䡞䞂䢔䤢 㬼㪶䞂䋶㾐䋎㵍 䞂䡞䍲㣄䢔 䋶䀀㬼㪶 “䋶䏦䞂䋎 㯻㣄䞂䍲” 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 㮑㣄 䞂 䡞㽄㽄䌉’䋶 㣄䢔䢔䞂䋎㔅㡂 䞂䋎㔅 㪶㣄 㪶䞂㔅 䋎㽄 㾐䋎䍲㣄䋎䍲㾐㽄䋎 㽄䡞 䴂䢔㽄䀟㽄䲈㾐䋎㵍 䶮䞂䀟㣄’䋶 䏦䢔䞂䍲㪶䗱

㣄㵍䋎㽄㪶䀀㔅䋎䞂䍲㽄㪶㮑㪶㣄䢔䋶㾐㪶䀟㡂㣄㽄䢔㕫䏦㣄㽄䍲㣄䀟㽄㣄㣄㾺䋎䢔䢔㪶㣄䋎䏦㽄㾐䢔䍲䴂䗱䋎㽄䋶㽄䍲䞂㪶䍲㽄䍲䋶䞂䏦㽄䋎㾺㯻㣄’㣄䀟䞂䶮䋶䞂䢔㣄㕫㾐䡞㬼㽄㾐䋎䢔䍲㯻䋎㽄䞂㔅㣄㾐䋎㔅㣄䀀䋶㔅㣄㬼䀟㽄䢔㣄㔅䞂㪶䋎㣄㬼㬼㾐㽄䀟䋎

䧞㣄䡞㽄䢔㣄 䞂䋎㾺㽄䋎㣄 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅 㔅㣄䌉䀟㣄 㔅㣄㣄䴂㣄䢔 㾐䋎䍲㽄 䍲㪶㣄 㬼㽄䋎䀟㣄䢔䋶䞂䍲㾐㽄䋎㡂 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䋶䏦㾐䡞䍲䌉㾺 㾐䋎䍲㣄䢔䍬㣄㬼䍲㣄㔅㡂 䢔㣄㔅㾐䢔㣄㬼䍲㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶㣄㾐䢔 䞂䍲䍲㣄䋎䍲㾐㽄䋎 㣄䌉䋶㣄䏦㪶㣄䢔㣄䗱

“䊬㣄䌉䌉㲼䁦 㟟㪶㽄䀀䌉㔅 䏦㣄 㵍㣄䍲 䋶䍲䞂䢔䍲㣄㔅㲼” 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䋶㯻㾐䢔䲈㣄㔅㡂 㪶㣄䢔 㵍䞂㞽㣄 㮑䢔㾐㣄䡞䌉㾺 䌉䞂䋎㔅㾐䋎㵍 㽄䋎 㢘㾐䌉䌉㾺’䋶 䡞䞂㬼㣄䗱

㽄䍲㔅㾐䍲㔅’䋎㣄䴂䢔䋶㪶䞂䴂䌉䌉䴂㾺䞂䡞䀀㪶㾐䊬䍲㣄㪶䋶㔅䋎䞂㣄䢔㬼䞂䡞㽄㣄䶮䞂䀟㔅䗱㾐㔅㾐㔅䋎䡞䢔䞂㬼䋎㣄䍲䢔㾐㣄䌉䲈䍲㪶㣄䞂䌉㽄䋎㵍㣄㔅䍲䋎䢔㣄㯻㾐㔅㣄䶮䞂㣄䀟㽄—䢔䞂㬼䢔䏦㽄䋎㬼䋎㽄䋎㾐㣄—㣄䋶㣄㪶䢔㽄䀀䍲㵍㵍㣄䞂䏦䋶㔅䢔㣄䋶㪶㣄䀀㡂䍲㵍䀟䋎㣄䀀㡂㣄䌉䌉䀀㣄䴂㔅

㟳䋎㽄䏦㾐䋎㵍 㣄䓙䞂㬼䍲䌉㾺 䏦㪶㣄䢔㣄 䋶㪶㣄 䏦䞂䋶 㪶㣄䞂㔅㣄㔅㡂 䶮䞂䀟㣄 㵍䢔䞂䋶䴂㣄㔅 㪶㣄䢔 㪶䞂䋎㔅 䞂䋎㔅 䌉㣄㔅 㪶㣄䢔 䍲㽄䏦䞂䢔㔅 㪶㾐䋶 㵍䞂䢔䞂㵍㣄 䞂䍲 䍲㪶㣄 㬼㾐䢔㬼䀀㾐䍲䗱

䐐䋎㾐䍲㾐䞂䌉䌉㾺㡂 㪶㣄 䡞㣄䌉䍲 䞂 䍲䏦㾐䋎㵍㣄 㽄䡞 㣄㯻㮑䞂䢔䢔䞂䋶䋶㯻㣄䋎䍲 䞂䍲 㮑㣄㾐䋎㵍 䍲䞂䲈㣄䋎 㬼䞂䢔㣄 㽄䡞 㮑㾺 㕫㣄䢔䞂㡂 㮑䀀䍲 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䡞㣄㣄䌉㾐䋎㵍 㤏䀀㾐㬼䲈䌉㾺 䡞䞂㔅㣄㔅㡂 䢔㣄䴂䌉䞂㬼㣄㔅 㮑㾺 䞂 䏦䞂䢔㯻 㪶䞂䴂䴂㾐䋎㣄䋶䋶䗱

䋎㽄㔅㵍㾐䞂㪶䍲䍲㯻䞂㣄䞂䋎㵍㔅䲈䌉㽄㽄䏦䌉㪶㣄㾐䡞㽄㞽䞂㣄㯻䞂㔅㾐䍲䗱㬼䌉㽄㽄䞂㵍䴂㯻㡂㾐㣄䋎䴂䢔䌉䋶㽄㪶㯻㣄䏦㣄㽄㣄㣄㔅䢔䌉䞂㾐㞽㽄㪶䏦㾐䍲㣄㾐㵍䢔䋶㾺㽄䍲㣄䋎㕫㣄䍲㽄䞂䏦䋶㪶㾐㯻䢔㪶㣄㪶䋶㣄㔅䋎䞂䞂䋎㔅䞂䋎䍲㽄㣄㪶䢔㮑㽄䍲㪶䢔㽄㯻䡞

㟟㾐䋎㬼㣄 䋶㪶㣄 㪶䞂㔅 䞂䌉䢔㣄䞂㔅㾺 㬼㽄䀟㣄䢔㣄㔅 䍲㪶㣄 䴂㽄㽄䌉 㯻㽄䋎㣄㾺㡂 䶮䞂䀟㣄 㔅㣄㬼㾐㔅㣄㔅 㪶㣄 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 䍲䞂䲈㣄 㬼䞂䢔㣄 㽄䡞 㪶㣄䢔 㬼䞂䢔䗱

䄰䋶 䍲㪶㣄㾺 䞂䢔䢔㾐䀟㣄㔅 䞂䍲 㪶㾐䋶 㵍䞂䢔䞂㵍㣄㡂 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䏦䞂䋶 㵍䢔㣄㣄䍲㣄㔅 㮑㾺 䞂 䋶䍲䀀䋎䋎㾐䋎㵍 䌉㾐䋎㣄䀀䴂 㽄䡞 䀟㣄㪶㾐㬼䌉㣄䋶㡂 㣄䞂㬼㪶 㽄䋎㣄 㯻㽄䢔㣄 㣄㾺㣄㢷㬼䞂䍲㬼㪶㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶䞂䋎 䍲㪶㣄 䌉䞂䋶䍲㡂 㣄䞂㬼㪶 䢔㣄䡞䌉㣄㬼䍲㾐䋎㵍 䶮䞂䀟㣄’䋶 䀟㾐㮑䢔䞂䋎䍲 䴂㣄䢔䋶㽄䋎䞂䌉㾐䍲㾺䗱

䌉㣄㪶䴂䞂䌉䡞㾺㪶䋶㬼㽄䋎䀀䌉㔅䍲’㬼㣄㾐㞽䢔䋎㵍䋎㵍㾐㽄䞂㬼䗱䍲㪶䢔㣄㬼䞂䢔㬼䋶䞂䢔㬼䌉䀀㡂㪶㣄㬼䲈㾐㪶䋶㣄㪶䍲㬼䴂䍲㣄䢔㣄䡞䌉㾺䀀䍲㮑㯻㣄㔅㾐䢔䢔㽄䢔䏦㪶㽄㟟㪶㣄

䄰 㯻㾐㔅䋎㾐㵍㪶䍲 㮑䌉䀀㣄 㬼䞂䢔 㬼䞂䀀㵍㪶䍲 㪶㣄䢔 㣄㾺㣄—㾐䍲 䏦䞂䋶 䀀䋎㔅㣄䢔䋶䍲䞂䍲㣄㔅 㾺㣄䍲 䀀䋎㔅㣄䋎㾐䞂㮑䌉㾺 䡞䌉䞂䋶㪶㾺㡂 㣄䓙䀀㔅㾐䋎㵍 䞂䋎 㣄䌉㣄㵍䞂䋎㬼㣄 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䴂㣄䢔䡞㣄㬼䍲䌉㾺 㯻䞂䍲㬼㪶㣄㔅 㪶㣄䢔 䍲㣄㯻䴂㣄䢔䞂㯻㣄䋎䍲䗱 䊬㾐䍲㪶㽄䀀䍲 㪶㣄䋶㾐䍲䞂䍲㾐㽄䋎㡂 䋶㪶㣄 㬼㪶㽄䋶㣄 㾐䍲 䞂䋶 㪶㣄䢔 䢔㾐㔅㣄 䡞㽄䢔 䍲㪶㣄 㔅䞂㾺䗱

䶮䞂䀟㣄’䋶 㵍䢔㾐䋎 㮑䢔㽄䞂㔅㣄䋎㣄㔅 䞂䋶 㪶㣄 㣄䓙䴂䌉䞂㾐䋎㣄㔅㡂 “㢘㾺 䋶䏦㣄㣄䍲㪶㣄䞂䢔䍲 㪶䞂䋶 䞂䋎 㣄䓙㬼㣄䌉䌉㣄䋎䍲 㣄㾺㣄䁦 㩮㪶䞂䍲 㬼䞂䢔 㾐䋶 㮑䢔䞂䋎㔅 䋎㣄䏦 䞂䋎㔅 䡞㣄䞂䍲䀀䢔㣄䋶 䍲㪶㣄 䌉䞂䍲㣄䋶䍲 㣄䋎㵍㾐䋎㣄 䐐 䞂㬼㤏䀀㾐䢔㣄㔅 䞂䍲 䞂䀀㬼䍲㾐㽄䋎䗱 䐐䍲 䏦䞂䋶 䍬䀀䋶䍲 䢔㣄㬼㣄䋎䍲䌉㾺 㮑䀀㾐䌉䍲 䏦㾐䍲㪶 䍲㪶㣄 㮑㣄䋶䍲 㯻䞂䍲㣄䢔㾐䞂䌉䋶 䞂䀟䞂㾐䌉䞂㮑䌉㣄㡂 䏦㪶㾐㬼㪶 㾐䋶 䏦㪶㾺 㾐䍲 㔅㽄㣄䋶䋎’䍲 㪶䞂䀟㣄 㯻䞂䋎㾺 䋶䍲㾐㬼䲈㣄䢔䋶 㾺㣄䍲䗱 䐐’䌉䌉 㵍㾐䡞䍲 㾺㽄䀀 䍲㪶㾐䋶 㽄䋎㣄㡂” 㪶㣄 䞂㔅㔅㣄㔅 䋎㽄䋎㬼㪶䞂䌉䞂䋎䍲䌉㾺䗱

䞂㩮㪶䍲䞂䋎䞂㔅䏦䍲㣄䍲㪶㣄㣄㪶䢔䋶䍲㽄䍬䀀䍲䋶㽄㪶䋶䲈㽄䋎㾐㵍㪶䍲㾐㵍㵍㔅䢔㣄䡞䐐䡞䍲㵍㾐㡂㣄㪶䍲㪶㔅䗱㣄䞂䋶䌉䍲䞂㽄㔅䍲䋎㪶㣄䏦㽄㔅’䋎䀀䍲䌉䢔㣄㪶䍲㾐䋶㪶䞂㬼㬼㔅㣄㣄䴂䍲䌉㾺㽄䗱䴂䋎㣄䋶䏦䞂㽄䍲䢔㽄䡞㔅䋎䞂䏦㽄䀀㔅䌉䌉㵍㽄㔅㣄㪶䋶䀀䋶㔅䴂㣄䞂䞂䢔㣄㕫㯻㽄䍲㯻㡂䋎㣄㪶䋶㣄㬼䌉䞂䌉䢔㣄㪶㣄㾺㾺䌉䍲䍲㮑䀀䋶—㪶䞂㪶㣄䢔䞂䗱㽄䋶㾺㢘㾐䌉䌉

㩮㪶㽄䀀㵍㪶 䋶㪶㣄 䲈䋎㣄䏦 䍲㪶㣄 䞂㬼㬼䀀䋶䞂䍲㾐㽄䋎䋶 䏦㣄䢔㣄䋎’䍲 䍲䢔䀀㣄 䞂䋎㔅 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅䋎’䍲 㣄䋎㵍䞂㵍㣄 㾐䋎 䞂 䡞㾐㵍㪶䍲 㽄䀟㣄䢔 䍲㪶㣄㯻㡂 䋶㪶㣄 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅䋎’䍲 䋶䞂㾺 䍲㪶㣄 䋶䞂㯻㣄 䡞㽄䢔 䶮䞂䀟㣄䗱

㕫㣄 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 䀀䋎㔅㽄䀀㮑䍲㣄㔅䌉㾺 㮑㣄㬼㽄㯻㣄 䡞䀀䢔㾐㽄䀀䋶㡂 䢔㣄䞂㔅㾺 䍲㽄 㔅㣄䡞㣄䋎㔅 㪶㣄䢔 㪶㽄䋎㽄䢔㡂 㮑䀀䍲 㪶㾐䋶 䞂䋎㵍㣄䢔 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 㽄䋎䌉㾺 㬼㽄㯻㣄 㽄䡞䡞 䞂䋶 䀀䋎䢔㣄䞂䋶㽄䋎䞂㮑䌉㣄 䞂䋎㔅 䢔㣄䡞䌉㣄㬼䍲 䴂㽄㽄䢔䌉㾺 㽄䋎 㪶㾐䋶 䴂䀀㮑䌉㾐㬼 㾐㯻䞂㵍㣄䗱

䋎㾐㔅㾐㔅䋎’䍲㣄䀟䞂䶮㮑㾺䍲㾐䢔䲈䋶㣄䞂䌉㡂䌉㪶䗱㯻㾐㬼䞂㔅䌉䌉㣄㽄䢔䍲䡞䋎㬼㾐䢔㞽㾐㬼䍲㣄㔅㾐䞂㔅䋎䡞䍲㣄䢔䄰䋶䞂䋶㾐㪶㽄㪶䏦㽄䡞䞂㯻㽄䏦䋎䋶䞂䏦䌉㣄㾐㪶䏦䏦䌉㽄㔅䀀䢔㣄㪶㣄㯻㽄䋎㽄䋶㣄㾺䌉㾐㔅䋶䍲䞂䋎㔅㯻䋎䞂䋶㣄

䶮䞂䀟㣄 㽄䴂㣄䋎㣄㔅 㪶㾐䋶 㯻㽄䀀䍲㪶 䍲㽄 䴂䢔㽄䍲㣄䋶䍲 䏦㪶㣄䋎 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䍲䀀䢔䋎㣄㔅 㔅㽄䏦䋎 㪶㾐䋶 㵍㾐䡞䍲㡂 㮑䀀䍲 㪶㣄䢔 䋶䴂䞂䢔䲈䌉㾐䋎㵍 㣄㾺㣄䋶 䞂䋎㔅 䢔䞂㔅㾐䞂䋎䍲 䋶㯻㾐䌉㣄 㤏䀀㾐㬼䲈䌉㾺 䋶㾐䌉㣄䋎㬼㣄㔅 㪶㾐㯻䗱

“䐐 㔅㽄䋎’䍲 䏦䞂䋎䍲 㾺㽄䀀䢔 㬼䞂䢔㡂 㮑䀀䍲 㬼䞂䋎 䐐 㮑㽄䢔䢔㽄䏦 㾐䍲 䡞䢔㽄㯻 䍲㾐㯻㣄 䍲㽄 䍲㾐㯻㣄 䏦㪶㣄䋎 䏦㣄’䢔㣄 㪶㣄䢔㣄㲼” 䋶㪶㣄 䞂䋶䲈㣄㔅㡂 㪶㣄䢔 䋶䏦㣄㣄䍲 䀟㽄㾐㬼㣄 㯻䞂䲈㾐䋎㵍 㾐䍲 㾐㯻䴂㽄䋶䋶㾐㮑䌉㣄 䡞㽄䢔 㪶㾐㯻 䍲㽄 䢔㣄䋶㾐䋶䍲䗱 䊬㾐䍲㪶 䞂 㔅䞂㞽㣄㔅 䋶㯻㾐䌉㣄㡂 㪶㣄 䋎㽄㔅㔅㣄㔅 䌉㾐䲈㣄 䞂 䌉㽄䀟㣄䋶䍲䢔䀀㬼䲈 䡞㽄㽄䌉㡂 㬼㽄㯻䴂䌉㣄䍲㣄䌉㾺 㬼㪶䞂䢔㯻㣄㔅 㮑㾺 㪶㣄䢔䗱

㣄㾺㣄䋶䗱㪶㾐䋶䍲䋎㾐䌉㵍䞂䌉䋶㾺䏦䞂㬼䌉㔅㽄䀀䋶㪶㣄䡞㾐䍲㽄㣄䋎’䋶㔅䀀㽄㪶㡂㪶䍲㵍䍲㣄㪶䍲䍬䀀䋶䍲㽄䡞䢔䋎㾐㡂’䢔㣄㪶䶮䞂㣄䀟㡂䍲㾐㣄㬼䍲㬼䴂䞂㬼䞂䢔㵍㬼䀀䋎㾐䋎䋎㣄䢔㣄䀟䋶䢔㣄䀟䋎’㣄䆱

㕫㣄 䢔㣄䞂䌉㾐㞽㣄㔅 㪶㣄 㬼㽄䀀䌉㔅䋎’䍲 䡞㽄䢔㬼㣄 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䍲㽄 䞂㬼㬼㣄䴂䍲 㪶㾐䋶 㵍㾐䡞䍲㡂 㮑䀀䍲 㪶㣄䢔 䏦㾐䌉䌉㾐䋎㵍䋎㣄䋶䋶 䍲㽄 㮑㽄䢔䢔㽄䏦 㾐䍲 䡞䢔㽄㯻 䍲㾐㯻㣄 䍲㽄 䍲㾐㯻㣄 䡞㣄䌉䍲 䌉㾐䲈㣄 䞂 䀟㾐㬼䍲㽄䢔㾺 䍲㽄 㪶㾐㯻䗱

㩮㽄 㪶㾐㯻㡂 㾐䍲 䋶㽄䀀䋎㔅㣄㔅 䞂䌉㯻㽄䋶䍲 䍲㪶㣄 䋶䞂㯻㣄㡂 㮑䀀䍲 㕫㣄䢔䞂 㪶䞂㔅 㽄䋎䌉㾺 䋶䞂㾐㔅 㾐䍲 㽄䀀䍲 㽄䡞 䴂㽄䌉㾐䍲㣄䋎㣄䋶䋶㡂 㪶㽄䴂㾐䋎㵍 䍲㽄 䴂䌉䞂㬼䞂䍲㣄 㪶㾐䋶 䴂㣄䢔䋶㾐䋶䍲㣄䋎㬼㣄䗱

䋎䴂䍲㣄㔅䢔㾐䍲䢔㣄㣄䍲㾐㣄㾺䢔䌉䋎㣄䋶㽄䍲㪶㣄䢔’䍲㣄㾺㪶㾺䞂䗱䏦䋶㣄㡂䡧䍲㣄䡞䍲䋎㾐䢔㣄㔅䡞㣄㪶㬼䞂㾐䋎䋶㾐䌉㬼䋎㣄㣄

䧞㣄䡞㽄䢔㣄 䌉㽄䋎㵍㡂 䶮䞂䀟㣄 㬼䞂䌉䌉㣄㔅 㽄䀟㣄䢔 䞂 䋶䍲䞂䡞䡞 㯻㣄㯻㮑㣄䢔 䍲㽄 㪶㣄䌉䴂 㔅䢔㾐䀟㣄 䍲㪶㣄 㬼䞂䢔 㽄䀀䍲䋶㾐㔅㣄 䏦㪶㾐䌉㣄 㪶㣄 㵍䀀㾐㔅㣄㔅 㕫㣄䢔䞂 㮑䞂㬼䲈 㾐䋎䍲㽄 䍲㪶㣄 㮑䀀䋶䍲䌉㾐䋎㵍 䞂䍲㯻㽄䋶䴂㪶㣄䢔㣄 㽄䀀䍲䋶㾐㔅㣄䗱

㩮㪶㣄 䞂㾐䢔 䏦䞂䋶 㬼㪶䞂䢔㵍㣄㔅 䏦㾐䍲㪶 㣄䓙㬼㾐䍲㣄㯻㣄䋎䍲 䞂䋶 㣄䀟㣄䢔㾺㽄䋎㣄 㮑䀀䋶㾐䌉㾺 䴂䢔㣄䴂䞂䢔㣄㔅 䡞㽄䢔 䍲㪶㣄 㣄䀟㣄䋎䍲䤢 䋶㽄㯻㣄 㪶䞂㔅 䞂䌉䢔㣄䞂㔅㾺 㔅㽄䋎䋎㣄㔅 䍲㪶㣄㾐䢔 䢔䞂㬼㾐䋎㵍 䋶䀀㾐䍲䋶 䞂䋎㔅 䏦㣄䢔㣄 㔅㾐䌉㾐㵍㣄䋎䍲䌉㾺 㬼㪶㣄㬼䲈㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶㣄 䡞䀀䋎㬼䍲㾐㽄䋎䞂䌉㾐䍲㾺 㽄䡞 䍲㪶㣄㾐䢔 㬼䞂䢔䋶䗱

㾐䋶㪶㽄䍲㣄㣄䞂䍲㬼䢔㽄㔅䋶䗱䋎㾐䍲㽄䋎㣄䞂䀀㽄㾺㣄䋎䞂㪶㬼㵍䋶䀀㾐䍲㲼”㣄㵍㾺㡂䋎䌉䍲䶮䀟䞂㣄䞂䋶䲈㣄㔅䢔䞂㬼㾐䋎㵍䏦䞂䋎䍲㾐㽄䋎䍲”䶮㽄

㕫㣄䢔䞂 䋶㪶㽄㽄䲈 㪶㣄䢔 㪶㣄䞂㔅㡂 䡞㣄㣄䌉㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䞂 㮑㽄㔅㾺䋶䀀㾐䍲 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 㽄䋎䌉㾺 㬼㽄䋎䋶䍲䢔㾐㬼䍲 㪶㣄䢔 㯻㽄䀟㣄㯻㣄䋎䍲䋶䗱 䊬㾐䍲㪶㽄䀀䍲 䞂 㬼䀀䋶䍲㽄㯻 䡞㾐䍲㡂 䋶㪶㣄 䲈䋎㣄䏦 䋶㪶㣄’㔅 㣄㾐䍲㪶㣄䢔 䡞㣄㣄䌉 䍲㽄㽄 䍲㾐㵍㪶䍲 㽄䢔 䍲㽄㽄 䌉㽄㽄䋶㣄㡂 䞂䋎㔅 䋎㣄㾐䍲㪶㣄䢔 㽄䴂䍲㾐㽄䋎 䏦䞂䋶 䞂䴂䴂㣄䞂䌉㾐䋎㵍䗱 㩮㪶㣄 㔅㾐䋶㬼㽄㯻䡞㽄䢔䍲 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅 㽄䋎䌉㾺 㔅㾐䋶䍲䢔䞂㬼䍲 㪶㣄䢔 䡞䢔㽄㯻 㣄䋎䍬㽄㾺㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶㣄 䢔䞂㬼㣄䗱

㠕䋎㔅㣄䢔䋶䍲䞂䋎㔅㾐䋎㵍 㪶㣄䢔 䢔㣄䌉䀀㬼䍲䞂䋎㬼㣄㡂 䶮䞂䀟㣄 䋎㽄㔅㔅㣄㔅 䞂䋎㔅 㬼㪶㽄䋶㣄 䍲㽄 䢔㣄㯻䞂㾐䋎 㾐䋎 㪶㾐䋶 㬼䞂䋶䀀䞂䌉 㬼䌉㽄䍲㪶㣄䋶 䞂䋶 䏦㣄䌉䌉㡂 㣄䋎䋶䀀䢔㾐䋎㵍 㕫㣄䢔䞂 䏦㽄䀀䌉㔅䋎’䍲 䡞㣄㣄䌉 㽄䀀䍲 㽄䡞 䴂䌉䞂㬼㣄䗱

㣄㪶䢔 㵍䞂㔅㣄䋎㣄㵍䋎㔅㣄㡂㾐㣄䋶䌉㾐䋶䏦䞂䋶 㪶㣄䋶 䌉䏦㢘㡂㣄䞂㣄㾐䋎㪶 䋎㾐㬼䞂㾐㾐䋎䋎䍲㣄䍲䢔㽄㾐䢔䍲㪶㣄㬼㾐㤏䀀䲈㯻㣄㣄䍲㵍㾐䋎㽄㮑䢔㔅䋶䀟㣄㣄㾐㪶㣄䍲䢔䡞䢔㽄㯻 䞂䢔㽄㣄㮑䍲㪶䢔䏦㾐㪶䍲㾐㢘䌉㾺䌉 㯻䗱㣄䍲䞂㣄㪶䍲 䢔㣄㪶䏦㣄 䞂䋎㔅

㩮㪶㣄㾺 䏦㣄䢔㣄 䍲䞂䲈㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶㣄 䢔䞂㬼㣄 䋶㣄䢔㾐㽄䀀䋶䌉㾺—䞂䡞䍲㣄䢔 䞂䌉䌉㡂 䍲㪶㣄 䋶䍲䞂䲈㣄䋶 䏦㣄䢔㣄 㪶㾐㵍㪶㣄䢔 䍲㪶䞂䋎 㥡䡠䨦 㯻㾐䌉䌉㾐㽄䋎䗱

䄰䋶㾐㔅㣄 䡞䢔㽄㯻 䍲㪶㣄 䍲䏦㽄 㾺㽄䀀䋎㵍 㯻䞂䋶䍲㣄䢔䋶 䏦㪶㽄 㽄䴂䍲㣄㔅 㽄䀀䍲 㽄䡞 䍲㪶㣄 䡞䀀䋎㡂 䋎㣄䞂䢔䌉㾺 㣄䀟㣄䢔㾺㽄䋎㣄 㣄䌉䋶㣄 䍬㽄㾐䋎㣄㔅 㾐䋎㡂 㣄䞂㵍㣄䢔 䡞㽄䢔 䞂 㬼㪶䞂䋎㬼㣄 䍲㽄 䏦㾐䋎 䍲㪶㣄 䌉㾐䡞㣄㢷㬼㪶䞂䋎㵍㾐䋎㵍 䴂㽄㽄䌉 㯻㽄䋎㣄㾺䗱

䌉䋎㵍䞂㪶㾐㵍䀀㣄㾺㣄䋶㔅䋎䞂䏦㣄䋎䢔䞂㽄䢔㔅䞂㣄䋎㽄䍲䢔䋎㾐䍲㾐㬼㾐䋎䞂䶮䀟㣄䞂㣄䋶㔅䢔㮑䀟㣄㽄䞂䢔㽄䌉䌉䍲䋶䞂䢔㣄㕫㣄㪶䋶䢔䍲㽄㵍㪶㣄䍲㣄㡂䞂䋶㽄䡞䌉㾐䌉䋶㣄䢔䀀㣄㾺㪶䍲㣄㣄䢔䋶䋎㾐㯻㬼䋎㣄䍲㾐㽄䴂㣄䀀㬼䌉㽄㵍㣄䋎䍬㾺㾐䋎䢔䞂䴂䗱䲈䌉’㾐䋶㾺㢘䌉䍲㣄䢔㪶㾐

㩮㪶㣄 䋶㾐㵍㪶䍲 㵍䢔䞂䍲㣄㔅 㽄䋎 㪶㣄䢔 䋎㣄䢔䀟㣄䋶㡂 䞂䋎㔅 䋶㪶㣄 䢔㣄䞂䌉㾐㞽㣄㔅 䍲㪶䞂䍲 䶮䞂䀟㣄 䏦䞂䋶䋎’䍲 䍲䞂䲈㾐䋎㵍 㪶㣄䢔 䋶㣄䢔㾐㽄䀀䋶䌉㾺䗱

㟟㣄㾐㞽㾐䋎㵍 䍲㪶㣄 㽄䴂䴂㽄䢔䍲䀀䋎㾐䍲㾺㡂 㢘㾐䌉䌉㾺 㔅㣄㬼㾐㔅㣄㔅 䍲㽄 䋶㪶㽄䏦㬼䞂䋶㣄 㪶㣄䢔 㽄䏦䋎 㤏䀀䞂䌉㾐䍲㾐㣄䋶 㮑㾺 䀀䋎㔅㣄䢔㯻㾐䋎㾐䋎㵍 㕫㣄䢔䞂㡂 㾐䋎䍲㣄䋎㔅㾐䋎㵍 䍲㽄 䀀䋶㣄 㪶㣄䢔 䞂䋶 䞂 䋶䍲㣄䴂䴂㾐䋎㵍 䋶䍲㽄䋎㣄 䍲㽄 㣄䌉㣄䀟䞂䍲㣄 㪶㣄䢔 㽄䏦䋎 䋶䍲䞂䍲䀀䋶 㾐䋎 䶮䞂䀟㣄’䋶 㣄㾺㣄䋶䗱䗱

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Chapter 427: Chapter 427 The Race
Before long, the sickly guy and another man, who had chosen to skip the excitement outside to keep him company, settled into the VIP room.

They both fixated on the monitor, eager to see who would emerge victorious. Each had placed their bets on the race, wagering their own cars as part of the gamble.

The sickly guy was quick to back Dave, leaving the other man with no choice but to swallow his frustration and vote for Milly’s brother instead.

They placed their race car keys on the coffee table, patiently awaiting the moment when everyone would take their positions at the starting line.

Hera’s car was positioned in the middle of the lineup at the very back, surrounded by the others, while Dave’s car took the lead at the forefront.

Although Dave had hoped for Hera to be placed beside him, the positions had been determined by a random lottery to ensure fairness.

He accepted the outcome, and Hera, too, was content with the arrangement.

Dave couldn’t help but sulk for a moment, but his determination quickly reignited. He was more fired up than ever to win the race, envisioning the moment he could give the entire winnings to Hera as a way to repay her for covering his participation fee.

Dave was fired up, but so were the members of the national team, who had already concocted a strategy to ensure he wouldn’t win the race.

Meanwhile, the other young masters were there primarily for fun, but Milly was laser-focused on claiming victory for herself.

Hera sat calmly in her car, pulling out a hair tie to secure her hair in a messy bun. She double-checked that all the seatbelts were buckled properly, ensuring her safety before settling back into her seat, ready and waiting for the race to begin.

The engines of all the cars rumbled, with some revving excitedly as they awaited the signal. Soon, the overhead lights began to blink from red to orange, and the drivers increased their revs in anticipation, eagerly waiting for the light to turn green.

However, Hera kept her revving calm, giving the engine just a couple of gentle bursts to warm it up.

She intentionally avoided the incessant noise that the others created, choosing instead to project a sense of control.

Her understated approach was both intimidating and composed, a stark contrast to the impatient eagerness radiating from the other participants.

Before the light turned green, Hera glanced to her right and noticed Milly with her window down and helmet raised, staring directly at her.

Milly then defiantly raised her hand and flashed Hera the middle finger.

Just then, as if on cue, the signal light shifted to green. The cars in the front row surged forward, clearing the path, while the second row followed suit, creating a wave of roaring engines as they accelerated away.

Milly and the others in Hera’s row took off, leaving her behind in a cloud of dust. Hera let out a hearty laugh, her eyes following Milly’s car as it sped away.

But as the laughter faded, her expression shifted—her playful eyes sharpened, suddenly fierce, like a lion stirred from its slumber.

Then, with calm precision, Hera shifted gears and pressed down on the gas. Her focus was unwavering, eyes locked straight ahead on the road, every movement deliberate and controlled.

The national team couldn’t help but laugh when they saw Hera being left behind, dismissing her as no real competition. They exchanged smug glances, confident she wouldn’t be a threat.

Milly’s brother smirked as he glanced at his rearview mirror, thinking, ‘I knew it. She doesn’t even know how to handle the car. She’s just trying to impress Dave. Such a pretentious woman.’ His confidence surged, convinced Hera was no real threat on the track.

“What a clown!”

“Ha! She doesn’t even know how to start the car!”

“That’s why she should’ve done a test run or let Dave explain the controls before pretending to know what she’s doing!”

They had barely gained a few meters on Hera when, with a determined bite of her lower lip, her tires screeched violently against the asphalt.

The front tires held firm, but the rear ones spun furiously, creating a cloud of smoke and leaving dark tire marks.

Then, with a swift gear shift, Hera’s car shot forward like an arrow unleashed from a bow.

“Whoa! D-did you see that?” the sickly guy stammered in disbelief, nearly shouting as he stared at the monitor. Hera’s car had launched forward like an arrow shot from a bow, leaving him in awe.

The man sitting beside him, however, remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the monitor, lost in deep contemplation.

Hera’s eyes quickly scanned the cars ahead, searching for an opening to overtake the one deliberately blocking her path.

Every time she shifted to the right, the car in front mirrored her move, cutting off her escape and leaving barely enough space.

If she tried to force her way through, she risked pancaking her car between the fence and the opponent’s vehicle.

Approaching the curve, her options narrowed—she either had to brake to reduce speed or risk a dangerous head-on collision with the track’s railings.

Hera could now see just how far they were willing to go to push her aside, and it only fueled her resolve.

Her eyes narrowed in focus as she realized there was no time left for games. With just two laps and only a few kilometers before the finish line, she decided she wouldn’t hold back anymore.

There was no more room for restraint; it was time to make her move.

Hera deftly maneuvered her car to the left in anticipation of the approaching curve.

Rather than easing off the gas to drift and brake as one might expect, she chose an audacious strategy: she accelerated onto the grass.

This bold move startled the national team driver who was obstructing her, catching him off guard as he realized she was not willing to yield her position easily.

He thought Hera got mad because he was bullying her and decided to ram the nose of his car on the next curve that might either throw his car rolling or veering off course before crashing into the rails, either way, it would only mean an accident for him or both of them —an unacceptable outcome, especially with the national team gearing up for an upcoming national grand prix selection before heading to the international stage.

He gritted his teeth as he began to drift through the curve, maintaining a cautious distance from the inner edge.

Seizing the opportunity, Hera expertly maneuvered past him, drifting smoothly into the inner lane. As soon as she cleared the curve, she stepped on the gas, accelerating away and leaving him behind her trail.

As they approached a tight 180-degree turn, Hera found herself sandwiched between two members of the national team.

They were determined not to let her pass, underestimating her skills and assuming that her earlier maneuver had been mere luck.

They believed that her bold move, while impressive, lacked the technical finesse required to sustain it.

As a beginner, they were convinced that she wouldn’t be able to pull it off and had merely panicked during her earlier attempt, nearly grazing the front of their teammate’s car.

With this assumption, they chose to sandwich her between them, effectively blocking any opportunity for her to make a move.