Ring—ring—ring—
Ring—ring—ring—
Ring—ring—ring—
"Phaga… turn off your alarm…"
Morning arrived with the shrill sound of ringing. Ellen wrinkled her small, delicate nose in displeasure, muttering under her breath as she stubbornly refused to open her eyes. Her soft, rounded toes kicked resentfully at the air before she curled up and burrowed deeper beneath the covers, hiding from the sunlight.
Almost unconsciously, she reached out and grabbed whatever was beside her, pulling Phaga's arm tighter into her embrace.
Phaga, still half-asleep, let out a dazed yawn. When he tried to pull his arm back, he realized it wouldn't budge.
Turning his head, he found that Ellen had wrapped her entire body around his left arm. Every time he so much as twitched, she would knit her brows and bare a neat row of sharp teeth in warning.
"Move again, and I'll bite you…"
Despite barely managing to keep her eyes shut, Ellen still had the energy to puff out her cheeks, looking every bit like a wronged little wife.
That was—if one ignored the fangs.
Phaga couldn't help but smile bitterly. He tried to compromise by sitting up without moving his arm, but the instant he lifted himself, a wave of dizziness crashed into his head like a heavy blow, leaving him reeling.
"Tsc… how late was it last night…"
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Phaga forced down the spinning sensation and leaned over Ellen to grab his phone from the bedside table.
As his upper body rose, the blanket lost its support and slid down under its own weight. His strong, pale arms—smooth enough to be mistaken for a woman's—were laid bare, five powerful fingers snapping forward to seize the phone.
Ring—
Ring—click!
"What time is it…?"
After silencing the alarm, Phaga realized he couldn't remember what time he'd set it for. He switched to the home screen and froze.
In an instant, his pupils contracted. The last traces of sleep vanished completely, his mind jolting awake as if pricked by needles. He didn't care whether Ellen was comfortable anymore—Phaga shot upright in bed.
Huff—
A cool breeze drifted in through the window, raising goosebumps along his skin.
With her makeshift pillow suddenly gone, Ellen—full of pent-up morning irritation—opened her eyes and glared at Phaga, snapping angrily:
"What are you doing? I finally get to sleep in for once… Huh? Not bad. It was too dark last night to see properly!"
Her anger hadn't even finished spilling out when her gaze caught on something else. She stared, transfixed, her irritation evaporating as her face flushed bright red.
Phaga's mouth twitched. He turned back, flicked her forehead, and yanked the blanket up to dump it over her head. Grabbing a handful of clothes from the bedside table behind her, he said irritably:
"Stop staring, you color-blind great white shark. It's already eight! The Tour de Inferno opening ceremony starts at nine!"
Ellen shook her head, tossing the blanket aside, then hurriedly wrapped it around herself. Only a small stretch of skin at her lower back—where her tail connected—remained exposed, faintly pink and tantalizing. A single glance was enough to make one's blood boil, yet shadows half-concealed it, teasing and elusive.
Tilting her head, Ellen extended her tail and poked Phaga's back just as he slipped on his shirt, puffing out her cheeks as she traced lazy circles.
"No preparation, no romance, no experience… you're a triple-zero vampire."
"If I had preparation and experience, you'd be the one panicking."
Phaga shot back, bending down to drag a box out from under the bed and tip its contents onto the floor.
After finding his butler uniform, he rummaged around for Ellen's maid dress and tossed it onto her head.
"Get dressed. We're heading out."
"Oh."
Ellen pouted, her voice sounding faintly from beneath the fabric.
...
Old Oil Field District, Tour de Inferno race site—
[To all you fuel-burning maniacs in front of your TVs, radios, and right here on site~]
[It's your favorite—Playful Johnny!]
"Hey, Ellen. Don't doze off. We'll be working soon."
After an hour of preparation and reckless driving, Phaga finally brought the off-road vehicle to the Tour de Inferno race site.
A sea of people filled the area ahead, and beyond them loomed a massive screen.
At the center of the screen was a pink-haired woman with a full chest and a slim waist. Dressed in outrageously revealing clothes, she whipped up the crowd with bold movements and exaggerated words. The audience roared in unison, chanting the names of their respective factions.
Without question, the loudest cheers belonged to the Vanquishers.
Even as the lion aged, the setting sun and the sea of sand still cried out his glory!
"Haaah… just focus on driving and let me sleep a bit more… And really, this is your fault anyway. You've got better stamina than me, and you still bit me last night to drink my blood. That was way too much."
In the passenger seat, Ellen turned her back to Phaga, clutching the director's suit he had changed out of. She buried her face deep into the collar, nostrils flaring as she greedily inhaled the lingering scent.
"If I hadn't bitten you, with the amount of candy you've stockpiled, who knows how long you'd have kept making a fuss."
Phaga sighed, but when he glanced at Ellen, his gaze softened despite himself. He reached over and gently pinched her cheek, indulgent and fond.
Reluctantly withdrawing his hand, he gripped the steering wheel, forcing himself to rein in his desires and keep his eyes on the road ahead.
He reminded himself again and again: the job isn't finished yet. Everything else can wait until after.
Find the opportunity. Kill Lucius.
Phaga's eyes sharpened as Playful Johnny's exaggerated, energetic voice echoed in his ears, launching into the final hype.
[Thirty, forty—maybe fifty years ago~ a young man stayed behind, plunged into the sea of fire, and returned as a hero!]
[And in just a few minutes, a new hero will recreate the legend of Tour de Inferno!]
[The rules are simple: charge into the Hollow, reach Cinder Lake, and use Sparkstone to blow those damn Ether Crystals to pieces!]
[Whoever completes the ritual first claims the title of Overlord!]
[Now then… both sides to your positions—ready…]
[Tour de Inferno—begin!]
As Playful Johnny drew out the final syllables, the roar of engines on the track surged to its peak. A gunshot rang out, and the pent-up fury of countless engines finally exploded, howling toward the sky.
Columns of yellow sand whipped up from the center of the track as every motorcycle shot forward like lightning.
Yet even lightning had its differences.
In recent years, the Sons of Calydon had been stuck with inferior routes. Life for the people of Blazewood was barely sustainable, let alone affording the latest parts for their bikes.
Unsurprisingly, the Calydon racers were at a disadvantage from the very start. Barely into the opening straightaway, they fell behind, forced to watch as the three Vanquishers tore ahead, kicking up three distant trails of sand that soon vanished from sight.
"Don't lose heart, Caesar. Keep your current pace."
Seeing the gap widen, Eous—seated at the front of Caesar's bike—worried about her state of mind and spoke up to reassure her.
"Tour de Inferno isn't just about equipment. We're about to enter the Hollow. There'll be plenty of Ethereals along the way. If we clear them faster later on, we still have a chance."
"I know, Proxy!"
Caesar steadied her breathing, eyes locked on the path ahead.
She had never felt so fired up before. Her blood surged, heat flooding her head, and she burst out laughing with unrestrained boldness.
"Besides, starting behind everyone else and turning the tables at the brink of death—doesn't that make it even more exhilarating?!"
"That's called turning defeat into victory—Caesar, you—watch out! Something's falling!"
Eous suddenly shouted, eyes fixed on the massive boulders shaking loose on both sides of the canyon. Even a slight tremor thundered like a drumbeat—no one could imagine the impact if they truly came crashing down.
Caesar looked up as well, but there was no fear in her eyes. Instead, the flames of victory burned even brighter.
In an instant, she drew her blade. The next moment, she hurled the short sword forward, piercing straight through the boulder.
Bang!
The rock shattered, fragments scattering like meteors across the ground.
Caesar lifted the front of the bike, reached up, and caught the falling blade before smoothly sheathing it again. She laughed loudly.
"Proxy! This is Tour de Inferno—nine deaths, one life! Isn't it thrilling?!"
"Now you're using idioms properly?! Look ahead—there's a utility pole collapsing!"
"It's fine. Minor problem!"
Caesar lowered her gaze, battle intent blazing as if declaring—
The throne of the Outer Ring's Overlord was about to welcome a new overlord.