Anyone who races knows: tires are one of the most heavily worn parts of a car.
The more violently you drive, the faster they burn out.
With the way Leon had just pushed it, a brand-new set of tires was already half gone.
If it hadn't been nighttime, with the air cool and the pavement not too hot, the rubber might have melted outright—damage even worse.
But with tires made of quantum materials? That would be the ultimate weapon.
He could tear across the entire American continent without so much as a scratch.
No fuel, no tire changes—who could possibly compete?
Leon's breathing grew rapid, his eyes shining. His voice shook with excitement:
"How much to swap for these tires?"
He suddenly remembered: everything in the system's shop cost money. And it was expensive.
This quantum tire had to be outrageous.
What if even his five million payout wasn't enough? That would be awkward.
But the system quickly eased his doubts, pulling up the tire info:
"Price: 1.25 million per tire. Full set of four: discounted to 4 million—save 1 million."
A pleasant surprise.
Leon hadn't expected a bundle deal.
A million saved—that could buy a brand-new sports car in the real world!
"Perfect. Swap them out now." Leon urged impatiently.
Leaving money idle was a waste.
Besides, he'd still have a million left over—enough to burn through for a while.
He had the skills. No way he'd ever starve.
Money? He could get it anytime. Spending it was just a matter of mood.
"Account debited: 4 million. Product en route…"
In the garage, the Silver Marauder lit up, shining in a dazzling silver glow.
Especially the tires—they flared like suns.
They grew, transforming from 18-inch rims to 21-inch beasts.
More savage. More powerful. Pure violence on rubber.
If before the car had been a slim, suited gentleman—now it was a thug who'd ripped off his shirt, muscles bulging, raw power radiating.
No road could stand in its way.
"Upgrade complete. Tires will never wear out. Drive without concern."
From now on, no matter how hard he drifted, he'd never again need to worry about his wheels.
Just slam the pedal and go.
"Hahaha! Yes!" Leon laughed wildly.
Bit by bit, he was transforming this car from top to bottom.
Who knew how terrifying its final form would be?
"…Wait. Could I sell this car?" Leon's thoughts shifted.
A monster like this—if he put it on the market, it would cause an uproar.
If it sold for a billion, he could buy something even newer.
"Sale is permitted. However, a 50% deduction fee applies to all proceeds…"
The system's voice hardened:
"If, after deductions, the account balance is below 100 million, and you do not own another system vehicle, the sale will be deemed a failure. Result: termination."
Fifty percent. And that was before taxes.
Through an auction house, taxes and commissions would eat another chunk.
Even if the car sold for two hundred million, he'd net maybe 120.
After the system's cut, he'd be left short of the required hundred.
Impossible.
The only viable path: acquire a second car first, then sell this one.
Use the proceeds to modify the new ride.
Unless the Marauder could fetch half a billion, selling wasn't worth it.
And who in their right mind would pay that much for a car?
Almost no one.
Leon thought it over and nodded. He understood.
The system had put him here for one reason: racing.
If he sold his car, what would he race with? Nothing.
He'd be kicked from the game, replaced by someone else.
And he wasn't about to give up such a chance at rebirth.
So he accepted the system's rules.
The next morning.
Leon stirred awake, washed up, and poured himself a bowl of cereal.
Cheerios—grains in ring form.
He splashed in some milk and sat down to eat.
Bowl in hand, he flicked on the TV.
"Last night, a major accident occurred on the outskirts of the city…"
The newscaster's words pulled Leon's attention.
He looked up at the screen, chewing slowly.
"A large truck was hijacked. Its container overturned, sparking a severe three-car collision."
The footage switched to the wreck site: chaos everywhere.
One car had been crushed flat—its passengers without hope.
Two others were wrecked but empty inside.
The massive container lay far off, long gouge marks carved in the asphalt behind it.
The crash epicenter was horrific—chunks of road torn apart, asphalt cratered in several places.
The violence of it was unimaginable.
"Measurements show the container was dragged over twenty kilometers from the truck."
Leon froze, spoon halfway to his mouth.
Even he hadn't realized…
Less than two minutes—and he had covered twenty kilometers.
That speed was unreal.
Before, the fastest he'd ever gone was maybe 200 km/h.
By that math, in two minutes he should cover six kilometers at most.
But this time? Twenty.
If anyone found out, they'd lose their minds.