It was deep into the night. Few were watching television at this hour.
Ordinarily, the channel's viewership hovered at a mere 0.1%. But the moment the broadcast showed Leon tearing along the mountain road in the Silver Marauder, the ratings skyrocketed instantly—jumping to 1%, and still climbing!
Trish's eyes lit up. Even a fool could see that the audience loved this. If she didn't keep the live broadcast going, she'd be missing a golden opportunity. Luckily, she was familiar with the track, at least enough to keep her bearings.
The road was infamous for testing limits: the limits of the car, the limits of steering, the limits of a driver's skill. The final stretch was a ten-meter-wide cliff, where countless vehicles had met disaster.
"Every year, dozens of drivers attempt the Death Track," Trish narrated into the camera, "and countless fail, often fatally. No one has ever truly conquered it."
She pointed toward the road below, where the Silver Marauder hugged the edge of the narrow path. The tires teetered dangerously close to the cliffside.
The cameraman zoomed in for a close-up. Every word Trish had said was correct: the path was barely wide enough for a car. One wrong move, and disaster awaited.
"Impressive…" Even the cameraman couldn't hide his amazement.
The ratings jumped to 1.5%.
Trish composed herself, though her heartbeat raced. "The second challenge: the minimum turning radius."
Ahead of Leon lay a tiny hairpin, barely wide enough for a single cart to pass. A full 180-degree turn. Pedestrians might manage it on foot—but driving? Insanity. No wonder this mountain path was legendary. Only a true master could navigate it.
Ordinary drivers would struggle to even reach the turn.
"How will he manage it?" Trish whispered, tension thick in her voice.
Viewers across the nation held their breath, eyes glued to the screen. Everyone expected him to plunge over the edge.
Each year, over a hundred racers attempted this track, with a 40% mortality rate. Survivors often suffered catastrophic injuries—paralysis or multiple fractures. ICU stays lasting months were common. The monetary and physical cost of failure was astronomical. Yet drivers continued to challenge it, putting their very lives on the line.
And now… could Leon succeed?
Many scoffed. A no-name driver with little reputation—how could he possibly survive?
Then, a daring maneuver unfolded. The Silver Marauder's rear suddenly unleashed a burst of blue nitrous flames. Accelerating through a turn.
Accelerating… through a hairpin? Madness. Every sane driver would brake. Yet Leon pressed the throttle.
The audience gaped in shock, mouths agape wide enough to fit a fist.
Ratings surged to 2%.
The Silver Marauder executed a flawless drift. On such a narrow road, this was suicidal. Everyone expected disaster.
The rear of the car swung out, teetering over the cliff edge.
But then—miracle. Half of the car hovered in the air, the other half clinging to the path. Leon's extraordinary driving stabilized the vehicle. A god-level feat.
"BOOM…"
Eight pillars of blue flame shot from the exhaust pipes, each over ten meters long. Like a glowing cerulean bridge laid across thin air. Nitrous booster at full power. Using the same principle that keeps jet planes aloft, Leon kept the Silver Marauder airborne, yet grounded enough to stay on track.
Millions of eyes followed, and the car executed the hairpin flawlessly. Smooth, precise, and death-defying.
Spectators erupted:
"Unbelievable!"
"Who's driving that car?"
"I've never seen anyone take a turn like that!"
"How is he not falling?"
The nation's TV viewers went wild. Rating numbers climbed to 5%—fifty times the baseline! It was as if a blockbuster movie had come alive. Leon's drifting set a new standard for skill, electrifying everyone watching.
Trish's face was flushed with excitement. From 0.1% to 5%, the audience was completely captivated. Tonight, tracking this one silver car was all that mattered. Everything else in the race was secondary.
"Viewers, the first deadly hairpin is behind us. This challenger has completed it in a way no one has before," Trish reported breathlessly. "He's forging a path no one else could. Let's see what comes next!"
"Oh, look! He's accelerating!" Trish's voice rose in excitement. Another curve approached, and once again, the Silver Marauder charged without slowing.
Eight pillars of blue flames erupted.
A dazzling, fiery trail marked the path. The car defied the impossible, carving a new road where none existed. Pure adrenaline.
The viewers' hearts raced alongside Leon's. Every twist, every drift, every flame, made this more than a race—it was a spectacle of raw skill and unstoppable courage.
The mountain path had met its match: the Silver Marauder.
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
patreon.com/Dreamer20