The wheels kicked up clouds of dust as Shane Summers executed a flawless catapult start. Stella roared onto the track with her engine module screaming, a fleeting silver arc of light.
"Master, left-six turn after the slope, then straight!"
Stella's soft voice echoed in Shane's mind. He handled the controls with precision, guiding Stella through the first gentle turn in a smooth arc. The moment they exited, he floored the accelerator, blasting into the training track's first long straightaway.
This world had no navigators—machine girls were the ultimate navigators.
They were like precision machines, memorizing every detail of the track and relaying it to the racer's mind with perfect accuracy. This efficiency, combined with the machine girls' innate abilities, made racing in this world insanely fast.
And fast cars meant greater risks.
Risks? Shane never paid them any mind.
"Stella, run wild!"
"Oh, yeah, Master!"
…
"The prize money for this training race is probably staying with Triumph Club again."
"No surprise there. Those wild racers are too weak that they can't compare to our professionally trained and modded machine girls."
At Triumph Club's entrance, a large screen was live-streaming the race, surrounded by a crowd. Whenever Triumph Club held a training race, nearby residents flocked to watch. Racing was a national sport, loved by those with or without machine girls.
Among them were two racers in Triumph Club uniforms, pointing and commenting on the race footage.
"Jett's getting faster, untouchable!"
"Has that guy been secretly training?"
By now, some machine girls had cleared the first turn, one hitting a cornering speed of 184 km/h, sending the crowd into a frenzy. That speed, if maintained in the Nosk Rally, would guarantee a top-five finish. The machine girl belonged to Triumph Club's ace racer, Jett Huang.
"His machine girl's too good. If I had one like that, I might not be slower."
"Don't be jealous! He's got cash to mod his girl with all sorts of modules. We're broke, stuck working to save up."
Just then, the screen cut to the starting line, where a silver phantom flashed by, too fast for the camera to catch, vanishing in a blink with only the fading roar of its engine module.
"What the hell was that car?!"
The two Triumph Club racers gaped.
"That startup speed—what?!"
"Does Jett even have that kind of start?"
"Hell no! I've never seen a machine girl start like… like a cannonball!"
He struggled to find the right word.
"Like a fired cannonball!"
Most of the crowd was focused on Jett Huang, far in the lead, with only a few noticing the silver phantom. The two Triumph racers frantically scanned the screen for the silver machine girl but found nothing.
"Don't panic—she started last. We'll see her first cornering data soon."
They glued their eyes to the last machine girl's stats. The cornering speeds of the earlier girls had already posted, and compared to Jett, a pro racer, they were pitiful.
"It's up!"
"Holy—!"
Seeing the freshly posted cornering speed, the two Triumph racers' eyes bulged, their lips trembling.
"How much?! 312?"
"What?"
They exchanged a glance, each slapping the other's face. It hurt. Rubbing their eyes, they checked the board again. [312] blazed in red, seared into their minds.
"312 km/h cornering speed… that machine girl didn't even slow down…"
"That badass is in a training race?!"
The cornering speed ranked automatically, with 312 at the top, followed by Jett's 184. The crowd fell silent, and it took a while before someone asked if the data board was broken.
Meanwhile, on the track.
Shane and Stella had cleared the first turn.
It was a roughly 110-degree wide turn, similar in difficulty to last night's intersection. The track was narrower than a road, and given Stella's terrifying speed and abysmal steering, Shane had to brake early to slow down. Even so, Stella's cornering speed hit over 300 km/h.
"How's it feel?"
"Amazing, Master! My chest's burning!"
"Two more turns. Stay focused."
Shane looked up, the world blurring into streaks as scenery whipped by and the wind howled. Ahead, a black dot was growing larger.
He smirked. Wasn't that Warhammer from earlier? Caught up already?
…
The middle-aged racer driving [Warhammer] was cruising leisurely. His cornering speed was only around 80 km/h, but he was proud. This was Warhammer's best shot at finishing a race. He'd finally saved enough to equip her with an endurance-boosting module—before, she'd always broken down mid-race, leaving regrets.
Vroom, vroom, vroom—
A growing roar came from behind.
The man blinked. "Warhammer, your nitro module acting up again?"
"No."
Warhammer replied calmly, "It's that machine girl from earlier catching up."
"What?!"
They'd started 30 seconds apart.
His first reaction was disbelief. Glancing at the rearview mirror, he saw a glossy silver supercar, gleaming like a star under the sun, closing in at an unbelievable speed.
"Holy mother of—!"
"Isn't that kid a track newbie? His machine girl was shaking… how's she so fast?"
As he gawked, Stella pulled up behind Warhammer.
Finally snapping out of it, the man's competitive streak kicked in.
"Warhammer, don't let her pass!"
He knew he was likely near the bottom, but who wouldn't want a slightly better ranking? He planned to use Warhammer's terrifying collision ability to block Stella, maybe even force her off the track.
But as Warhammer started to move, a silver phantom zipped past on the side, quickly pulling away. Warhammer could only watch Stella's taillights fade into the distance.
"Master, 200-meter right-angle turn into a downhill!"
Warhammer's voice snapped the man back.
He slowed to take the turn.
The machine girl ahead didn't slow at all. With a stunning drift, her tires sparked against the ground, her rear nearly swinging off the track. At that moment, her engine roared, and she shot forward, leaving everyone in the dust.
After clearing the turn, the man and Warhammer couldn't even see Stella's taillights.
"What was that? The whole car twisted— isn't he afraid of flipping?"
The man and Warhammer crawled through the turn, still replaying that gorgeous drift. It was something entirely new, but if they could master it, it'd be exhilarating.
"That kid's a pro racer slumming it, isn't he?!"
"That machine girl's no ordinary one either!"
"Damn it, pretending to be a first-timer at the start! That sneaky brat!"
The man's face flushed as he ranted.
He recalled what he'd said to Shane.
Told him he'd eat dust?
Starting 30 seconds early and still losing sight of taillights was normal, right? But now, not only had Shane erased the 30-second gap, he was the one eating dust… Talk about embarrassing.
"Master, if you had that skill, I'd do housework every day."
Warhammer's voice drifted over faintly.
The man's lips twitched. "If I had that skill, would I be dragging you to training races all the time?"