When it comes from the system, it's always premium quality.
Leon already had the Silver Marauder, and with its indestructible tires, he wasn't impressed by the usual "maintenance packages" anymore.
But Elena was a different story.
For her, what Leon had just offered was unheard of.
A good set of performance tires might last 100,000 kilometers. Cheaper ones? Maybe 60,000.
But half a million kilometers on a single set of tires? That sounded insane.
And oil—don't even mention it. The best synthetic oils needed to be changed every 10,000 kilometers or once a year.
Leon's oil, however, lasted 100,000 kilometers or ten years.
Elena was left speechless.
How could such top-tier technology come out of this run-down auto shop?
If Leon was this skilled, why not open in some high-end district instead of hiding in this shabby place?
"You're serious? With skills like this, you can't possibly be short on money," Elena said suspiciously.
It was true—on ordinary cars, a mechanic might cut corners and get away with it. But this was her Porsche, a precision machine.
One bad batch of oil or parts, and the repair bill could skyrocket.
"My money is none of your business. I do things because I want to," Leon replied flatly, giving her no face at all.
He grabbed a pen and, with a few quick strokes, filled out a work order. Handing it over, he said,
"Look it over. If there's nothing else you want to add, sign it."
Elena skimmed the sheet. It listed more than twenty upgrade items, each with a clear price.
Altogether, exactly one million.
In truth, Leon's costs were only about half that. But he had to make money—so he doubled the price.
With his system-backed upgrades, every part was top-tier, completely unavailable on the open market.
And after the replacements, the Porsche wouldn't need another service for 300,000 kilometers.
Elena wasn't actually getting ripped off.
Just as she was about to sign, Leon's eyes lit up with another idea.
"How about I install a nitrous boost system for you?"
Her eyes widened. "Wait—you can really do that?"
Elena had always dreamed of nitrous. She had even tried to track down mechanics who could do it, but good ones were rare.
Nitrous tuning required extreme precision. The higher the efficiency, the faster the boost.
She had heard of some tuners, but most were amateurs. She had never found someone she could trust.
But Leon… he had beaten her fair and square on the street. And his knowledge felt different.
If he said he could do it, then his nitrous system had to be the best.
Nitrous wasn't exactly alien technology. Like turbochargers, it had roots in aircraft engineering.
In fact, back in WWII, German fighter planes used nitrous oxide injection to push engines past their limits for short bursts.
After the war, the same tech found its way into drag racing cars.
Of course, no one in their right mind used nitrous on tight corners. Do that, and you'd spin out in an instant.
Leon smirked. "Another half a million, and I'll set it up. Zero to a hundred in one second flat. Zero to three hundred in two seconds."
"Wow…" Elena gasped, her heart racing at the thought.
Two seconds to hit 300 km/h? That wasn't just racing—that was like taking off into the sky.
Off the line, she'd leave her opponents eating dust before they could even blink.
That kind of edge was worth every penny.
"Wait—won't it run out fast?" she asked, suddenly worried about nitrous bottles being used up.
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Add another half a million, and I'll install an auto-recharge system. It'll convert nitrogen from the air itself—no need to ever swap bottles."
From a one-million service bill, he had upsold her into a two-million-dollar package.
If she went through with this, he'd pocket a clean million profit in a single day.
Not a bad haul.
"Do it! Install it right now!" Elena said, practically trembling with excitement as she grabbed the pen and signed her name.
Two million for cutting-edge upgrades? It was worth it. For a racer like her, this was the ultimate temptation—and she wasn't about to pass it up.
Leon chuckled inwardly. Success.
Taking her signed order, he got to work while Elena was shown to the lounge with tea and a TV.
Half an hour later, Leon called her back.
"Payment first, then you can take your car."
Elena swiped her card, transferring the money straight into his account.
When she restarted her Porsche, she immediately felt the difference.
The engine note was deeper, smoother. The tires gripped the road like claws.
It was like the car had been reborn, every critical part upgraded to something stronger, sharper, and more alive.
Excited, she tapped the throttle a few times—the roar that came back was pure ecstasy.
Leon tapped on her window. When she lowered it, he leaned in and pointed at a bright red button on her steering wheel.
"That's the nitrous trigger. Press it, then hit the gas. It won't activate unless the car's running. When the engine's off, the system automatically recharges from the air. Got it?"
The red button was so eye-catching it was impossible to ignore.
"Got it," Elena nodded firmly.
"Good. Just—be careful," Leon said, patting the door.
Elena rolled out onto the road and pulled up to a red light.
When it flipped green—
ROAR!
Her Porsche exploded forward with a terrifying howl. Flames spat from the tailpipes as the nitrous kicked in.
The force slammed her into the seat, her heart racing, her face a mix of fear and wild excitement.
Zero to three hundred in two seconds flat.
It was like being torn from the ground and hurled into the sky.
Thrilling. Addictive. Better than any roller coaster.
Elena screamed with exhilaration—
"F*ck yeah!!!!!!"