Earlier, they had sent a fleet of ten off-road trucks—no motorcycles.
Leon had crushed them easily, leaving behind a trail of twisted wreckage and bodies.
You'd think after such a disaster, the enemy would back down, regroup, maybe even reconsider their tactics.
But no—these idiots doubled down, sending more people straight into the meat grinder.
Leon shook his head, speechless. I gave them too much credit… I thought they had brains.
He tapped his comms.
"Letty, heads up. Trouble ahead. Break off—now."
Letty's pretty face froze for a moment. She glanced at the road ahead. Pitch black, calm as still water.
Trouble? Here?
It looked quiet enough.
But Letty trusted Leon. If he said something was coming, then something was coming.
She nodded once. "Got it."
With sharp precision, she yanked the handbrake, downshifted, and spun the wheel.
The Medusa screeched, tail whipping as it drifted off the country road and shot down a different route.
She was out of the kill zone.
Dominic, watching from behind, blinked in confusion.
Why did she peel off suddenly?
Giving Leon the lane? Or was this some kind of trick?
He checked his rearview—
Sure enough, the Silver Marauder surged forward, freed of Letty's blockade.
Leon no longer held back. Foot slamming the gas, he roared down the stretch.
Up ahead loomed a small curve. Nothing sharp—just a smooth arc.
At normal speed, you could glide through without drifting.
But at nearly 300 km/h, even the gentlest bend turned lethal.
Try to corner without drifting, and you'd flip your car like a tin can.
Dominic's gut clenched.
"He's not actually gonna… overtake on the bend?"
Anyone with half a brain knew that was suicide.
Cars lose control. One slip, and you're off the road.
Leon wouldn't risk it… would he?
But Dominic also knew Leon wouldn't just sit back either.
So what was he planning?
The Silver Marauder roared, its engine screaming like a beast at full charge.
Leon stayed flat on the throttle, the car trembling with excitement, begging to unleash more power.
He was seconds away from firing the nitrous.
The Juggernaut's monstrous performance shone through—Dominic, pushing his Venom to the absolute limit, could only watch in despair as Leon closed in.
As they approached the bend, Dominic stomped on the gas, then yanked the handbrake.
The Venom whipped into a drift—
But his speed was too high. Control slipped. The car skidded wide, tires screeching, nearly spinning off the road.
Only by slamming the brakes hard did he barely stop from flying into the dirt.
The result?
He unintentionally cleared a lane for Leon.
Perfect opportunity.
Leon grinned. He didn't lift off—he went even faster.
Dominic's eyes widened.
"He's not slowing down?!"
Up ahead, O'Neal stared into his rearview. His lips curled into a mocking sneer.
So the "van driver" really thought he could hang?
Every racer worth a damn knew you slowed before a bend. Even Dominic proved that—push too hard, and you spin out.
But Leon? Still accelerating? Laughable.
O'Neal burst out laughing, contempt dripping from every word.
"Stick to minivans, rookie! HAHAHAHA!"
But his laughter died in his throat the next second.
The Silver Marauder's tires shrieked as Leon flicked the wheel—perfect drift, no loss of speed.
Not slowing down. Still accelerating.
The car hugged the asphalt like it was glued to it, eating the curve alive.
"What… the hell?!" O'Neal's eyes nearly bulged out.
How?
No car should grip the road like that.
How could he drift without bleeding speed?
What kind of monster machine was Leon driving?!
Cold dread coiled in O'Neal's chest.
Meanwhile, Leon stayed calm as ever.
The Juggernaut surged alongside O'Neal's D16, drifting in sync, angle and rhythm perfectly matched.
The scene was jaw-dropping.
Leon casually honked twice, catching O'Neal's gaze.
Then, grinning, he raised his hand… and flipped him off.
"Sorry—not sorry. I drive cocky by default."
Pure dominance.
O'Neal's face flushed red and green with rage.
This arrogant bastard! He had to be taught a lesson.
Snarling, O'Neal wrenched the wheel, trying to ram Leon mid-drift.
At these speeds, one hit meant disaster—cars flipping, race over.
But Leon had already anticipated it.
He stomped the brakes hard.
The Juggernaut shrieked, tires screaming, smoke and dust exploding off the pavement as it slowed sharply.
In that instant, the gap widened.
O'Neal's D16, already angled hard, lunged at thin air.
The wheel bit, the car lost balance—
And chaos erupted.
The D16 spun wildly, wheels clawing uselessly at the road. The uneven roadside terrain sealed its fate.
At terrifying speed, the car flipped.
It tumbled like a garbage can in a hurricane—rolling, smashing, sky flipping and earth spinning with every violent crash.
By the time it screeched to a halt, the car was mangled beyond recognition.
Shattered glass, twisted frame, the rear spoiler torn clean off.
It looked worse than a junkyard scrap heap.
Not a trace of the once-proud racer remained.
Leon clicked his tongue.
"Tsk tsk… tragic."
Taking down O'Neal had been child's play.
Too stupid to be a challenge.
But up ahead—
The rumble of engines grew louder.
The motorcycles were coming.
~~----------------------
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