Dominic was shaken to the core.
He rubbed his bald head, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
After all his years on the streets—after becoming the undisputed king of street racing—he had never seen a car like this.
The sound alone was enough to make his blood surge, let alone the person behind the wheel.
At such insane speeds, taking corners without slowing—this was terrifying skill.
Someone like that couldn't possibly be an unknown.
"Vince, have we had any suspicious drivers show up lately?" Dominic asked.
Vince shook his head. "No. It's the same old crowd. Even the newcomers don't have anything close to this kind of ability."
Vince had been with Dominic long enough to know what he was talking about.
That car had to be breaking five hundred kilometers an hour. And taking corners without braking? Even Dominic couldn't do that.
Dominic—the street king himself!
If even he couldn't manage it, that showed just how outrageous this newcomer was.
Dominic fell silent, his eyes shifting with dark thoughts.
A rival appearing out of nowhere, deliberately sabotaging their operation…
It was obvious—the car had come straight for them.
And worse, the driver had taken the cargo only to dump it on the roadside.
That wasn't theft—that was humiliation.
It was like snatching meat from a tiger's jaws, then throwing it back and flipping the tiger off.
A naked, shameless provocation.
"Vince, get the others out. I'll check the cargo."
Grabbing an iron bar, Dominic jogged to the container and deftly unlocked it.
But when the doors creaked open, he froze—staring blankly.
Inside, the container was empty. Not even a screw remained.
They had risked their lives for this? Lost crew members for nothing?
"F**k!!" Dominic roared, slamming the iron bar to the ground.
Never had he encountered something this bizarre.
First the lightning-fast car, then the vanishing cargo…
The whole thing stank of mystery.
His intel had said the truck was fully loaded. But now, it looked like the information was a setup.
Dominic was about to lose his mind.
"Hahaha—hell yeah!!" Leon burst out laughing, elated.
It had been so long since he'd felt this alive. His blood was boiling.
The Silver Marauder seemed to fuse with his very soul, tearing across the roads in perfect harmony.
And best of all? He'd just snatched five million from Dominic's crew.
Overnight, he was rich. Rich enough to laugh in his sleep.
"Take me home," Leon commanded.
The Marauder's central console lit up, auto-navigation calculating the route.
Up ahead, a small rural road would take him straight back.
In America, electronic surveillance was sparse.
Especially on village roads—no cameras, no checkpoints.
Speeding, overloading—it was everyday life out here.
No worries about getting ticketed or losing points.
That didn't exist.
Eyes alight with excitement, Leon floored the gas.
The Marauder howled, speed climbing again. So fast, even cameras wouldn't catch its shadow.
As the village entrance loomed, Leon flicked the steering wheel.
At such velocity, the smallest turn became a controlled drift.
Tires screamed, smoke curling as the Marauder slid cleanly into the side road.
Smooth as silk. No stalls, no wasted motion—the line perfect.
If anyone had recorded it, jaws would drop worldwide.
There weren't many drivers alive who could pull off such control.
The Marauder roared on, following the navigation straight home.
Normally, this drive would take two hours.
But with Leon and his nuclear beast? Less than twenty-five minutes.
Faster than a bullet train.
"hell yeah!" Leon shouted as he climbed out, exhilarated.
He cracked open a beer, chugging it down as heat and adrenaline surged through his veins.
He wanted nothing more than to tear across America, pedal to the floor.
"Congratulations on completing the mission. Level-up reward: +100 to all attributes."
The system's voice rang out.
Leon's stats skyrocketed—strength, speed, agility, marksmanship—every ability soaring by a hundred points.
For his weaker attributes, it was a twentyfold leap.
Incredible.
His body swelled visibly, muscles thickening like an inflating balloon.
Solid muscle—chest sculpted, abs like stone, arms as thick as tree trunks.
In moments, he looked as built as Dominic himself.
Peeling his waistband open, Leon glanced down—and grinned wider. Bigger, stronger there too.
Life was good.
He flipped in the air twice, landing with a spinning kick.
CRACK! A wooden wall shattered beneath his foot.
Yet Leon barely felt a thing—it was like kicking through paper.
"hahaha! This is insane!!"
He never wanted to go back to his old world again.
Why would he, when this one was so damn fun?
"Congratulations, you've received five million funds. Would you like to exchange for Quantum Tires?"
"Quantum Tires? What's that?" Leon's eyes lit up. Just the name screamed high-tech.
"Tires crafted with quantum materials. Never wear down. Never puncture. Never explode.
When pierced, the material detects the breach, ejects the object, and seals itself.
No leaks. No balancing. No need for inflation.
The quantum compound absorbs shocks, eliminating bumps—even on rough terrain."
Future tech, pure and simple.
Leon's grin widened. This was good stuff.