When Shane Summers returned with Carrie XC-99, Uncle Leon was already waiting at the door of the small wooden cabin.
He glanced at the delicate girl beside Shane, his brow furrowing. Without a word, he pursed his lips and opened the door. "Cough, cough… It's freezing out there. Come in and have some fish soup."
Shane, feeling a bit guilty, led Carrie XC-99 inside, scratching his head as he sat at the dining table.
Uncle Leon served three bowls of fish soup and set them on the table. Shane picked up a bowl and sipped quietly. Carrie XC-99 seemed like she wanted to say something but sensed the awkward atmosphere. She eyed the fish soup, swallowing hard, but didn't dare touch it.
Uncle Leon set down his spoon, his gaze shifting between Shane and Carrie XC-99. His lips twitched. "You pulled a machine girl from the warehouse? Planning to keep racing?"
"Uh, haha, Uncle Leon, nothing gets past you," Shane said with an awkward grin. "I do have plans to keep racing."
There was no point hiding it—it couldn't be hidden—so he figured he might as well be upfront.
Uncle Leon sat in silence, then sighed. "Ten minutes ago, you told me you were done with racing and wanted to take over the scrapyard. Now you've changed your mind? Are you a chameleon or something?"
"Well, uh, I went to the warehouse and just happened to find a machine girl I liked."
"Her?" Uncle Leon pointed at Carrie XC-99.
Carrie XC-99 instinctively hugged her head and shrank back.
"Yeah, Carrie XC-99 is exceptional. I think she's got what it takes for Nosk, maybe even bigger races after that."
Carrie XC-99 blushed, flattered. She hadn't expected Shane, with his incredible skills, to praise her so highly. Ever since he pulled off the catapult start and drift, she'd seen him as a godlike figure.
"Exceptional?!" Uncle Leon's chest heaved, and he snapped his head up, his eyes flashing with anger and helplessness. "You picked a decent machine girl at Apex Club, fine, but not Carrie XC-99!"
"Why not?" Shane was taken aback.
"Didn't you see her debut record? She can barely turn. You're going to race Nosk with a machine girl who can't steer? And then crash on a corner? Are you tired of living?"
It was the first time Shane had seen Uncle Leon so furious.
The small cabin fell silent, the only sound the howling wind battering the windows.
The old man, usually hunched, now sat ramrod straight, his eyes blazing. Shane wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he thought he saw other emotions in Uncle Leon's eyes—regret, helplessness, sorrow… a complex mix that formed a message he couldn't decipher.
"I know Carrie XC-99's steering is bad," Shane said, glancing at the girl who'd lowered her head under the criticism. "But that flaw can be overcome. Plus, I've got five days to modify her. Uncle Leon, trust me—before Nosk, I'll make her a machine girl fit for a proper track. I won't neglect your scrapyard either."
Uncle Leon locked eyes with Shane, perhaps swayed by Shane's resolute gaze or simply too old to argue with a young man's stubbornness. He slumped back in his chair, staring out the window with a cold laugh. "You got kicked out of Apex Club, didn't you? Your driver's license was revoked too, right? To race in Nosk, you'll need to retake the test. With a machine girl like Carrie XC-99, who can barely turn, you think you can pass?"
"I can." Shane's two words brimmed with absolute confidence.
As for his plan, if he could boost Carrie XC-99's cornering attribute to 40 before the race, passing the driver's test would be a sure thing.
"Fine, go take the test then! Let's see how you do!" Uncle Leon swept the fish soup bowls off the table, his voice drifting from the kitchen. "I don't need you running my scrapyard either—it'd be done for if I left it to a short-lived fool like you!"
"Uncle Leon, I didn't finish my soup…"
"Get lost!"
…
Shane didn't dare return to Uncle Leon's cabin to sleep that night.
He stayed in the warehouse with Carrie XC-99, who transformed into her car form, and he lay in the driver's seat.
"Sorry, Master, I got you scolded," Carrie XC-99 said, her eyes downcast, her voice heavy with dejection.
"It's fine. Uncle Leon's actually a good guy," Shane said, hands behind his head, sighing. "Racing's a dangerous sport, after all. He's just worried about me, plus he doesn't know my skill level."
"Is he your father?"
"No." Shane shook his head. "But in this world, he's my only family, so I respect him a lot."
Carrie XC-99 tilted her head, puzzled by Shane's phrase "in this world," as if he weren't from here.
"Anyway, don't take what he said to heart."
"No, he was telling the truth," Carrie XC-99 said, forcing a smile as she hugged her knees. "My steering *is* bad. If it weren't for you, Master, I'd never dare dream of racing or winning. That's too extravagant for me."
Shane stared at the car's ceiling, silent, thinking about how to improve Carrie XC-99's attributes.
When he focused on her, the virtual attribute panel appeared.
Each attribute on the panel came with detailed point allocation notes.
For instance, for Carrie XC-99's cornering attribute, which was below 10, one MP point could increase it by one. But for attributes above 50, it took 5 MP points per increase, and for those above 90, 10 MP points per increase.
Winning first in a training race earned 15 MP points, second place 10, and third place 5.
Official races doubled the rewards: first place got 30 MP points, and so on.
So, before Nosk, he needed to take Carrie XC-99 to at least two training races and win first in both, earning 30 MP points. That would bring her cornering to 37, and the remaining three points could come from training and modifications.
Machine girls in this world were living beings, so targeted training could improve their attributes.
But each machine girl had a talent cap, so improvements weren't limitless.
Most racers relied on buying modules to tweak their machine girls' attributes for different rallies.
"Tomorrow, we'll check out a module shop, then ask Uncle Leon about any training races in Jiang City."
Shane wasn't worried about finding races.
Before official races, plenty of training races popped up, some organized by private racers, others by clubs.
He just needed to pick tracks suited for Carrie XC-99, leverage her speed advantage, and winning first should be feasible.
"Hey, Master, let's sign the contract."
Shane snapped back to reality. At some point, Carrie XC-99 had leaned close, her blue eyes fixed on him, shimmering faintly even in the dark.
"Sure, let's do it. After that, you'll officially be my machine girl."
Shane took this seriously. He hadn't forgotten the humiliation from Jade-786.
A world-class racer, mocked by a low-stat machine girl from another world for not knowing how to race?!
In five days, he'd show Jade-786 and Kyle Zane what the Emperor of the Track could do!
Carrie XC-99 squinted, giggling, and pulled out her intelligent core.
"Master, just put a drop of blood on it."
Shane stared at the Rubik's Cube-like core, confused. "I thought a contract was just a verbal soul bond? Why the blood? And you're taking out your core…"
"A soul bond can be broken, and the machine girl can choose another racer afterward," Carrie XC-99 said, holding the core up to Shane like it was her heart. "But a core imprint is permanent. I'd only ever be your machine girl."
Gazing at Carrie XC-99 offering her heart, Shane didn't hesitate. He bit his finger, a drop of blood forming on the tip. "Just so you know, I'm broke. I can't afford modules for you right now. You'll have to endure tough training, and while other machine girls use modules, you might have nothing."
"I'm not afraid of hardship or going without modules." Carrie XC-99's eyes were resolute. She stood on tiptoe, pressing her core against the blood on Shane's finger. "Only weak machine girls need modules!"
As the core absorbed Shane's blood, its glow shifted to a faint pink.
Carrie XC-99 happily tucked the core away, completing the contract.
She'd already decided to stick with Shane forever—unless he sent her to be scrapped, she'd always be his machine girl.
For a machine girl, entrusting her life like this took immense courage.
But Carrie XC-99 believed no one else would accept her flaws or guide her through corners. Only Shane could tame her!
"Calling you Carrie XC-99 feels weird. I should give you another name."
Shane rubbed his chin thoughtfully while Carrie XC-99 looked at him expectantly.
A racer naming their machine girl was a sacred ritual, a sign of how much they valued her.
"How about Stella?"
Shane took the "XC" initials and thought of her star-like silver body, settling on the name.
In that moment, Stella's eyes widened.
The name matched her lineage—Stella Clan machine girls were known for speed.
Shane's choice felt like it represented her entire clan.
It was immense trust and expectation!
"Master, I won't let you down!" Stella's eyes filled with tears as she bowed deeply to Shane.
Shane found it odd. He'd just picked a name—why was Stella making it such a big, passionate deal?!
…
Meanwhile, in the small cabin at the heart of the scrapyard.
Despite the late hour, Uncle Leon wasn't sleeping.
Leaning against the headboard, he held a photo, tears glinting in his eyes.
The photo showed a family of three: a son and father in helmets, the mother smiling radiantly, all making peace signs.
Uncle Leon caressed the young man in the photo, his lips trembling, his voice choked. "You were just as stubborn back then. Did you have to race?"
He stared at the photo for a long time, smoking two cigarettes before carefully placing it back in the nightstand drawer.
"Both of them, stubborn brats! Cough, cough, cough."
Clutching his chest to catch his breath, he pulled a savings card from the drawer, slipped it into his coat, and turned off the light to sleep.