Chapter 257: Nobody Told Me This Was a Mario Kart Race!
Both Hell's Kitchen's residents and the assembled racers waited with genuine anticipation the moment word spread that Ethan himself was about to take the stage.
Most of them, after all, had only ever heard about Ethan secondhand — this would be their first look at the man in the flesh.
Amid a wave of cheers and mounting anticipation, Ethan made his entrance in a way nobody expected.
He didn't walk up onto the platform like a normal person would. Instead, he simply rose — floating serenely up into the night air. The crowd gasped as one, a wave of shocked cheers rippling outward.
Hovering there above them all, Ethan let his gaze sweep across the racers and the crowd below, a warm smile settling onto his face.
He cleared his throat and called out, voice carrying easily across the crowd. "Welcome, everyone, to Hell's Kitchen — and welcome to tonight's race! Honestly, this whole thing started as nothing more than a way to give the good people of Hell's Kitchen a little fun.
I never expected it to pull in talent from every corner of the world. Genuinely didn't see that coming — and I have to say, I'm thrilled about it."
The moment he finished, the crowd erupted — applause and cheers rolling across the neighborhood in waves.
Watching the crowd's energy and the racers' fired-up determination, Ethan felt a quiet satisfaction settle in. He'd made the right call proposing this. If tonight went well, there was no reason not to make this a regular thing.
Ethan also knew, realistically, that tonight wasn't going to stay calm for long. A quick glance across the field had already told him plenty — plenty of live weapons mounted on cars, plenty of hardware that had no business being anywhere near a street race.
He wasn't especially worried about it, though. He'd already made sure there was a full row of ambulances standing by at the edge of Hell's Kitchen, ready to go.
That was just how things worked around here. Ethan would make sure everyone got pulled out before their car actually blew up.
The buildings, too, were already protected — the Homestead system had that covered, cost him nothing but a handful of Friend Points.
If Hell's Kitchen was going to host a race, it was going to have Hell's Kitchen's own particular flavor.
Scanning the racers, Ethan spotted more than a few familiar faces — the drift legend from Mount Akina, played by the tea-brand guy; the master cinematographer, Old Chen; the three iconic bald men; even the actress who played Wonder Woman over at the rival studio had shown up; and apparently four turtles who usually lived quietly in a sewer somewhere had snuck into the field too.
No question, plenty of genuine racing talent out there tonight. Ethan gave them a small mental nod of sympathy.
Because Hell's Kitchen's streets were absurdly narrow — which meant the real winning strategy here wasn't going to be speed. It was going to be taking out everyone else's car.
Add mutants and Hell's Kitchen's own colorful residents into the mix, and Ethan had known from the start this was never going to be a clean, straightforward speed contest.
You really thought Hell's Kitchen's people were going to play fair and just race you?
This wasn't a racing tournament. This was a battle royale wearing a racing tournament's clothes.
Even Ethan himself couldn't say who was actually going to come out on top tonight — genuinely curious to see how it'd shake out.
Meanwhile, up on the announcer's platform, Xuan Yin's voice cut through the noise of the crowd, both cueing Ethan to officially open the race and whipping the audience into an even bigger frenzy.
Ethan gave a nod, then called out, voice booming across the neighborhood: "Then let it be known — the Hell's Kitchen Death Race is now — OFFICIALLY — UNDERWAY!"
"THREE!" His voice rang out across the sky, each number landing like a drumbeat straight into every chest in the crowd.
"TWO!" The audience held its breath collectively, every eye locked onto the hundred cars coiled and ready at the line.
"ONE!"
"START!"
The instant the word left his mouth, a piercing blast of a horn split the sky — the starting cannon of the whole spectacle, announcing the race had officially begun.
A hundred engines roared to life at once, deafening, shaking the ground. All hundred cars shot off the line like arrows loosed from a bow, kicking up a wall of dust, tires carving deep grooves into Hell's Kitchen's pavement.
"Red light's out — we are RACING!" Xuan Yin's voice rang out again, her commentary painting the scene vividly for viewers at home.
"And it looks like our early leader is Hell's Kitchen's own Pietro, riding alongside Lady Luck herself, Domino!" Xuan Yin shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.
The camera swung to the lead car — Pietro's hands moving with expert precision on the wheel, Domino riding shotgun, the two of them working in perfect sync, pulling steadily ahead.
"Guess luck really does play favorites — Pietro's out in front right off the starting line!" Xuan Yin called.
Standing beside Ethan, Wanda felt a private thrill hearing that.
Putting Domino on the team had clearly been the right call.
If Domino kept siphoning luck away from the rest of the field, and she and Pietro could hold onto the lead all the way through — Wanda would win her date with Ethan. The thought sent a rush of excitement through her.
"Right on Pietro's tail is a driver named Dominic — he is glued to that back bumper. The rest of the field's still tangled up fighting for position — Hell's Kitchen's tight streets are making passing a real nightmare out there. Let's see how this shakes out!" Xuan Yin kept the commentary flowing.
Dominic flashed his signature sly grin, satisfied. Of course nobody could touch him on a track. Second place, easy as breathing.
That car up ahead? Not even worth worrying about — he'd have it passed by the next turn.
Everyone behind him? Forget it. Nobody was catching him from back there. All they'd get was a good look at his tailpipe.
This whole Hell's Kitchen race was a joke, frankly.
Dominic waited for Roman to say something — a compliment, anything. But Roman had gone quiet, eyes glued to the rearview mirror.
Dominic shot him an irritated glance and found Roman's face frozen in pure terror, staring at something behind them.
"What's your problem? We're in the lead right now — what happened back there?" Dominic snapped.
Roman, hands shaking, pointed at the mirror. "I — I think I'm seeing things. I could've sworn the car behind us just pulled out a rocket launcher. That can't — this is a race, why would anyone have a — I'm definitely just seeing things."
Dominic flicked his eyes to the mirror — just in time to watch a rocket streaking straight toward him.
He wrenched the wheel hard to dodge, and in the process let the car behind him blow right past.
"GODDAMN IT! WHO BRINGS A ROCKET LAUNCHER TO A RACE?! REF! HOST! SOMEBODY'S BREAKING THE RULES OUT HERE! THIS ISN'T A RACE, THIS IS A MURDER ATTEMPT!" Roman screamed, still shaking from having survived it.
Xuan Yin, apparently catching the complaint, chimed in helpfully: "Just a reminder to everyone — weapons are NOT prohibited in this event! Use whatever you've got! Don't worry, we've got dedicated safety personnel keeping an eye on everyone out there — safety's kind of our whole thing here in Hell's Kitchen!"
Hearing that, Dominic's expression went dark instantly.
"GODDAMN IT! NOBODY TOLD ME THIS WAS A MARIO KART RACE!"
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