Death Bend.
The name alone was chilling. According to incomplete statistics, no fewer than twenty traffic accidents occurred there every year.
Although John Lopez was riding a bicycle, the speed he'd picked up was far too fast. By the time he reached the notorious Death Bend, it was nearly impossible to react in time.
To make matters worse, it had been raining for days prior. The mountain road was muddy and dangerously slick. Under such conditions, a single misstep could easily send him tumbling off the cliffside.
Zara Remar's voice rose in panic.
"Hurry, catch up to Mr. Lopez! We have to warn him—there's a deadly bend just ahead!"
Despite her usual unruly demeanor, Zara had a kind heart. She couldn't bear the thought of watching someone plunge to their death without trying to help.
Kley Sinclaire shook his head grimly.
"I'm afraid it's too late. If we try to catch up now, we might scare him—and that could make things worse."
"Then what do we do?!"
Zara was beside herself with worry. Whether John Lopez could hear her or not, she still leaned out the window and shouted at the top of her lungs,
"Be careful, Mr. Lopez! Death Bend is ahead!"
"Life and death are destined," Jonathan Sinclaire muttered with a sneer. Then, with barely concealed malice, he pressed on the accelerator—just enough to maintain control but also to keep up.
He wasn't speeding up to help.
He simply didn't want to miss the show—the moment John Lopez would fly off the cliff and shatter into pieces. A moment that, in his mind, would ensure his own plans went undisturbed.
Finally, they reached a vantage point. From where they were, they could see John Lopez approaching the deadly curve.
Jonathan's twisted smile spread further.
"Yes... that's it. Go ahead and crash, you meddling bastard. That way, you won't be around to ruin my plans. That's what you deserve!"
"Ah!"
The two girls instinctively covered their eyes in horror, unable to bear what they thought they were about to witness.
But then—
Kley Sinclaire, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly screamed, his voice sharper and more shrill than either of the girls.
"OH MY GOD!!!"
"???"
Zara whipped her head around.
"What happened? Did Mr. Lopez fall?!"
Wendy Shelby blinked in confusion, unsure whether to be relieved or afraid. Kley's reaction wasn't what someone would expect after seeing a man fall to his death. It was... awe. Pure, dumbstruck awe.
He looked like he'd just witnessed something beyond belief.
Even Jonathan Sinclaire slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as the car slowed sharply. His hands trembled on the steering wheel, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Tell us!" Zara shouted. "What did you just see?!"
After a long, breathless pause, Kley finally exhaled.
"Have you... ever seen a bicycle drift?"
"A bicycle drift?" the girls echoed, eyes widening.
Kley nodded emphatically.
"Yes! The bike drifted!"
Just as everyone thought John Lopez would fly off the edge and disappear into the abyss, the bicycle had miraculously slid sideways through Death Bend—at an insane angle that defied logic.
The back tire had come terrifyingly close to the cliff's edge. Inches. One wrong move and both man and machine would've been airborne.
But this wasn't a mere skid or tail flick.
This was a true, god-tier drift.
It's hard enough to drift in a car, which has the benefit of four wheels and high traction. With practice, most skilled drivers can pull it off.
But a bicycle?
Two wheels. Minimal tire surface. Barely any grip. Practically no traction.
That's the key—traction. Without it, drifting is nearly impossible.
The most likely outcome when attempting such a move on a bike is flying off uncontrollably, rider and bike flung into space like ragdolls.
But not this time.
John Lopez had somehow performed the impossible—executing a drift that shouldn't exist outside of video games or anime.
Unbelievable.
But it had happened.
Still in shock, Jonathan Sinclaire drove slowly through Death Bend, his mind blank. As they cleared the curve, the sight ahead froze them all.
There it was.
John Lopez's bicycle, parked neatly at the side of the road—gleaming under the dim sunlight, mud-streaked but majestic.
And beside it stood John himself, utterly composed.
Jonathan stepped out of the car, swallowing his pride. Even if he despised Lopez, he couldn't suppress his curiosity.
"How... how did you do that?" he asked, eyes narrowed in awe.
It was inconceivable. A bicycle reaching nearly 130 miles per hour, then executing a death-defying drift on a slippery curve with zero margin for error? It was like watching a myth come alive.
John Lopez smiled playfully and shrugged.
"Want to learn? I can teach you."
Jonathan's lips twitched, unsure if it was anger or admiration that bubbled up.
The three students burst out of the car, racing to the bike like children to a rare artifact.
Kley Sinclaire crouched beside the tires, marveling.
"Dude, that was insane! You were flying, and there's not even a scratch on these wheels! Where did you buy this thing? I need one!"
Wendy Shelby stood slack-jawed, dreamy-eyed.
"I've never seen a bicycle drift like that. I regret covering my eyes. I missed history..."
Zara Remar ran straight to John, grabbing his arm with sparkling eyes.
"Mr. Lopez! Take me up the mountain with your bike—please?"
John raised a brow and smirked.
"Now you call me Mr. Lopez?"
She giggled, tongue peeking out.
"Sorry for misjudging you earlier. If you'd prefer, I can call you little brother instead!"
"Oh?" he said, tilting his head with mock seriousness. "Then say it three more times. Sweetly."
She twirled in place and sang out,
"Little brother, little brother, little brother~!"
John laughed.
"Alright. Since you asked so nicely, I'll grant your wish. Get on."
Zara squealed with delight and hopped onto the back seat, sitting sideways like a lady, one hand gripping his waist, the other holding her skirt down.
"Hold tight," John said, grin widening. "We're about to take off."
Whewwww!
"AHHH—!"
Zara shrieked with glee, clutching him tightly as they shot forward. The wind rushed past them in a glorious roar. Her face pressed against his back, her heart racing.
This feeling—this wild, free, exhilarating rush—it was nothing like riding in a car.
It was freedom itself.
It was amazing.
Wendy Shelby stood at the edge of the road, hands clasped and eyes dreamy with longing.
If only she'd had the courage to ask first.