Leon couldn't help but chuckle at Elena's dazed expression.
It reminded him of his own reaction the first time he'd seen the Silver Marauder's speedometer.
The gauge read a top speed of 700 km/h—but with nitrous engaged, it could push to 800.
What car on Earth could even dare claim numbers like that?
"You… you built this?" Elena asked, still visibly shaken.
Her disbelief lingered in her eyes.
No ordinary car could possibly reach those speeds.
But a heavily modified one? That was another story.
In the hands of a true master, modifications could push machines to their absolute limits.
Her eyes lit up as she circled the Silver Marauder, hungry with curiosity.
No wonder her Porsche had been left in the dust—this beast ran at nearly 800. Suddenly, everything made sense.
"What brand is this?" she asked, inspecting every inch.
But she found no badge, no emblem.
For all her experience, she couldn't even identify its lineage.
"Don't tell me it's a prototype? Even then, it should have a logo…" she muttered.
Leon smirked.
"Private build. Doesn't belong to any company. Piece together enough parts, and you've got yourself a car."
It was pure nonsense—but Elena believed it.
In a country that thrived on freedom and ingenuity, there were plenty of gearheads who scavenged junkyards, hauled parts home, and assembled something of their own.
For them, the satisfaction wasn't in buying—it was in building.
"You're incredible," she admitted, eyes filled with admiration.
At first, she'd thought he was all swagger and empty words.
But the more she saw, the more she realized—Leon wasn't just talk. He was different.
Extraordinary ideas, extraordinary knowledge, and an extraordinary presence that drew her in.
Almost without thinking, she asked:
"Your engine… how did you mod it? Could you… help me mod mine?"
Leon's smile widened.
"Sure. As long as you can pay."
Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
"How much? A million?"
Leon laughed. A million for a nuclear-powered supercar engine?
The very idea was absurd.
Even world-class engineers with limitless funding couldn't crack nuclear propulsion without stumbling over radiation shielding and waste disposal.
Shaking his head, he raised one finger.
Elena hesitated. "Ten million?"
Still too small.
His voice dropped, calm but firm:
"One hundred million."
Elena froze, her mouth falling open.
A hundred million… for an engine?
That was the price of an entire hypercar—like the Koenigsegg One:1, once hailed as the world's fastest.
That monster had a 5.0L twin-turbo V8, max output nearly 1,000 kW, torque of 1371 Nm.
Paired with a 7-speed dual-clutch transmission, it topped out at 450 km/h.
It even shattered Bugatti's record—0 to 400 km/h in just 20 seconds, compared to the Veyron's 45.
For years, the One:1 had been the undisputed king.
Yet here stood the Silver Marauder, eclipsing it with ease.
But Leon wanted the price of another car entirely—just for the engine.
Of course, he left out the truth: the Silver Marauder's heart wasn't turbocharged or hybrid—it was nuclear-powered.
In his system's shop, the engine alone cost fifty million.
But to keep the tech exclusive, to protect his edge, he quoted double.
If Elena wanted in, he'd walk away with a fortune.
She winced. "Can't you cut me a deal? Five hundred thousand?"
Leon nearly spat out his drink.
From a hundred million down to half a million? That wasn't a discount—it was robbery.
"Not happening," he said flatly.
"But… for a million, I can give you a premium upgrade package."
Elena pouted, cheeks puffed in frustration.
A million was still a lot—but she had promised. A bet was a bet.
And deep down, she already believed him.
Whatever went down in the city—those killings—she was starting to accept it wasn't Leon's doing.
"What's in this 'package'?" she asked reluctantly.
Leon leaned back and started listing:
"Top-grade engine oil and filters—good for 100,000 km or ten years, no replacements needed.
High-performance tires—last 500,000 km, maybe twenty years.
Brakes, battery, spark plugs—all top-tier, all long-life. Fifty thousand miles of peace of mind."
Elena blinked, stunned.
Every item he named was best of the best.
"Top-shelf gear, all of it," Leon finished with a sly grin.