After a round of fierce competition, ten contestants had emerged victorious.
"Dear audience," Anna announced with a confident smile, "please rest assured—none of the 90 remaining spectators died during this game. So feel free to join in without worry. Here at Hell's Kitchen, your safety is guaranteed."
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers and applause for the advancing contestants.
Some overly enthusiastic Hell's Kitchen residents even launched a few rockets skyward. Colorful explosions burst across the night sky like fiery blossoms, injecting the tournament with a raw intensity and passion.
Viewers tuning into the live broadcast were just as engaged, flooding the live chat with messages:
"This is making my blood boil! Now I want to race too!"
"I've seen a ton of drag races before, but this? This isn't just about speed. It's about who's packing more firepower!"
"Way more fun than real-life Counter-Strike or Mario Kart Prop Races. Best part? You can go full throttle without worrying about dying. It's perfect!"
"Right? I saw a car blow up and the driver was rescued without a scratch! How is that even possible?"
"Please. The Lord of Hell's Kitchen can block a dozen power-ups at once. This is basic stuff for him."
"I've been driving for two and a half years—I'd pay to get in on this, prize or no prize!"
"Am I the only one thinking these Hell's Kitchen locals are insane? They literally fired an RPG to celebrate. That round probably cost more than my rent!"
Anna's eyes glimmered with mild surprise at the audience's extreme reactions. Even with her extensive experience as a host, the celebration's sheer intensity caught her off guard.
Still, as a seasoned professional, she quickly snapped back into performance mode.
"It looks like our audience is fired up!" she declared. "But let's get back to the action and take a look at our leaderboard results!"
She gestured grandly to the scoreboard.
"Currently holding first place is the team of Pietro Maximoff and Domino! With a clean start and Pietro's impressive driving, they've secured the lead in the preliminaries!"
Hell's Kitchen roared its approval for one of its own.
"Hell yeah! Keep the damn trophy right here in the Kitchen!"
However, reactions from the live broadcast viewers were far less enthusiastic. Many questioned the legitimacy of Pietro's first-place finish.
"No offense, but how the hell did Pietro get first? I've seen better driving at beginner's school."
"Right? It's like every time someone tries to catch up, something weird happens and they drop out."
"Rumor has it Domino—his co-driver—is a mutant who manipulates probability. Basically, she bends luck in their favor."
"No way. There's a mutation that can do that?"
"I thought she was just there for the aesthetics. But now it makes sense—she's been quietly carrying the team."
"So Pietro's just steering the wheel while she rigs fate? Even my grandma could win with that setup!"
Despite the chatter, Anna pressed on with her lively commentary.
"Next, give it up for our second-place duo from the legendary Fujiwara Tofu House—Takumi Fujiwara and his partner Ashu! Takumi showed incredible composure and mastery with his drainage-ditch cornering technique. Calm, calculated, and absurdly cool—every turn he takes is a masterclass in precision and style."
Ashu practically bounced in place, grabbing Takumi's sleeve in excitement.
"Takumi! We actually made it to the finals! This is unreal! If we win that $2 million prize… do you think we could finally afford the GTR we've always dreamed about?"
He waved enthusiastically to the crowd, playing the part of the professional racer soaking in the spotlight.
But his joy dimmed quickly as worry crept into his voice.
"Still… Takumi, don't you think this competition feels different? This isn't just about driving skills anymore. We don't know jack about weapons or firepower. Do you think we can survive to the end?"
Takumi didn't respond right away. He just tightened his grip on the steering wheel, silently lost in thought.
Flashes of the race played back in his mind as he mentally dissected each dangerous scenario.
After a moment, he murmured, "Ashu… if we really won that kind of money, do you think Natsuki would leave her uncle and come back to me?"
His voice was thick with yearning and frustration.
Anna's voice returned with renewed excitement.
"And now, let's welcome the third-place finishers—Paul Walker and his lovely wife! Their steady performance throughout the prelims earned them a well-deserved spot in the top three. Let's see if they can climb even higher in the next round!"
Cheers thundered from fans in the crowd, some holding signs, others waving flags in support.
Following them was the fourth-place team: a dual Peter Parker duo, piloting their sentient car, Peter Parking. The scene was surreal—a literal Peter Parker driving another Peter Parker while a third Peter Parker rode shotgun.
Next up in fifth place was the mutant duo: Pyro and Iceman. Racing in Beast's heavily modified Mustang, their appearance sparked awe from the audience. Everyone was eager to see what this fiery and frosty team could unleash in the finals.
The sixth-place team rolled in—none other than the Ninja Turtles. Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello made their flashy debut to explosive cheers. Their quirky charm and martial-arts swagger easily won over the crowd.
Seventh place went to the duo from the Vongola family: Storm Guardian G and Clear Guardian Knuckle. As family representatives, their performance had been strong and distinct, earning quiet respect from seasoned onlookers.
Then came the eighth, ninth, and tenth place finishers: three bald-headed powerhouses—Deckard Shaw, Luke Hobbs, and Dominic Toretto. Despite frequent clashes and collisions during the race, each had muscled their way into the top ten through sheer grit.
Dominic scowled as he eyed the other two.
"Damn it! If these two chrome-domed bastards hadn't kept blocking me, I'd have taken first! Even Paul snagged third—there's no way I couldn't have done the same!"
His voice seethed with frustration.
Anna's voice rang out one final time: "All racers, take your positions and prepare to begin!"
Meanwhile, 6,000 meters above Hell's Kitchen, a stealth aircraft circled silently in the night.
Inside the cabin, a cold, clipped voice cut through the hum of machinery: "We've reached the drop zone above Hell's Kitchen. Ready for deployment."
A countdown began.
"Three… two… one…"
With a hiss of hydraulics, the plane's rear hatch flung open. A hulking figure hurtled down from the sky.
"Mission complete. The Abomination has been deployed."
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
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