What should I do? I don't know what to do! You're such a disaster to me! How could I let you get in the car?
Dominic roared, eyes locked on the road ahead as he tried to dodge bullets spraying from behind.
Veins bulged on his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his forehead slick with cold sweat. Helplessness and anger surged through him. This Roman was truly a walking disaster, always dragging him into these desperate situations.
If it weren't so life-threatening, Dominic would've thrown Roman out of the car long ago. But reason held him back — that would only make things worse.
"Don't be so mad, Dominic. We're family. I never intended to get involved in this race," Roman said, spreading his hands innocently.
"Then why don't you fight back? Just let them keep shooting at us? You have to fight back!" Dominic bellowed, his voice echoing through the vehicle.
Startled by Dominic's roar, Roman froze for a moment before snapping back to action.
"Yes, yes! You're right! Those Hell's Kitchen bastards — just wait! I'll show them how powerful I am!" Roman exclaimed, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and scrambling around the car for weapons.
His motions were frantic as he cursed silently. How was there no gun in this car? Talk about bad luck joining this race with a measly prize. After this is over, I need to treat myself—find some beautiful girls to hang out with!
As Roman searched, he noticed their car was riddled with bullet holes and badly damaged. Sparks flew from multiple spots, metal screeched and clashed loudly.
"Finally found it!" Roman shouted, clutching a pistol in his hand.
He pointed the gun at Dominic. "Do you have anything else besides this pistol?" His eyes sparkled with hope, wanting a surprise weapon.
Dominic shot him a cold glare. "No. Nothing."
Roman's expression instantly fell, disappointment and despair flooding in.
He stared at Dominic in disbelief. Brother, are you serious? You expect me to take on guys with rifles and RPGs with this tiny pistol? That's basically a death sentence!
Despite the frustration, Roman leaned out the window, pistol raised, and fired.
A bullet suddenly zipped past his head, missing by inches. Terrified, he yanked his head back inside and shouted, "Run!"
Dominic's focus sharpened at Roman's urgent cry. He slammed the accelerator, and the engine roared as he unleashed every ounce of power.
His peripheral vision scanned frantically for threats.
"Fuck! Do these Hell's Kitchen assholes think their weapons are toys?" Dominic cursed, adrenaline and anger mixing. He could clearly see massive machine guns mounted on their cars — a nerve-wracking sight.
Fed up, Dominic reached for a lever beside him and yanked it hard.
With a deafening roar, rocket thrusters beneath the car ignited, blue flames blasting out as the car transformed into a high-speed missile.
Dominic's car shot forward like an arrow, rapidly distancing itself from the Hell's Kitchen pursuers. Bullets whizzed by but missed narrowly.
Though the entire sequence lasted barely a few seconds, Dominic felt as if he'd been through a life-or-death race.
Not only had he escaped Hell's Kitchen's assault, but he also seized the moment to overtake several vehicles, pushing into the front ranks.
Soon, Dominic's car pulled up beside an Aston Martin — driven by Deckard Shaw.
The two bald men locked eyes through their windows, tension thick in the air.
Dominic thought, This guy looks like a pro... but why does he seem so familiar? Have I seen him somewhere before?
Meanwhile, Deckard thought, Why does this bald guy remind me so much of the man in that video my brother sent me? Could this be my brother's killer? A fierce expression crossed his face.
At that moment, Deckard no longer cared about race rules. Revenge was all that mattered.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly with his right hand, he rolled down his window with the left and grabbed a pistol.
Dominic noticed and felt a strange mix of confusion and amusement. Does this guy really know me? Seems I'm pretty famous in the underworld. He gave Deckard a sly smile, trying to lighten the mood.
But the smile vanished instantly when Deckard raised his pistol and fired!
Dominic slammed on the brakes; the car shuddered violently, barely dodging the bullet.
"Damn it! Why is everyone here so unhinged?" Dominic cursed, his anger boiling over.
This race was nothing like he expected. It wasn't a serious contest — it was Alex Ray's personal vendetta against him.
Just after escaping Hell's Kitchen's gunfire, he was now under attack by this inexplicable bald man.
This has to be Alex Ray's revenge against me, Dominic thought bitterly.
With that, his patience snapped. The promises to protect his wife and win this race suddenly felt meaningless.
He spun the wheel sharply and drove straight at the Aston Martin ahead.
The two cars collided violently on the track, metal screaming in impact.
Deckard refused to back down, ramming Dominic's car repeatedly with fierce determination.
The chase turned into a brutal fight — cars crashing and slamming against each other in a high-stakes battle.
The only victim of this chaos was Roman, who was inside their car.
Not wearing a seatbelt, he was tossed around violently with each collision.
"Calm down! Calm down! Let me put on my seatbelt first!" he shouted, his voice drowned by the violent rattling.
"Oh my God! Somebody, please save me!"
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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