Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

On the winding mountain road, two beams of light, like mad swords, frantically tore through the dark night.

Takumi Fujiwara gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the excessive force. He had already pressed the accelerator into the gas tank, and the heavily modified VR38DETT engine roared with a heart-wrenching sound. The speedometer needle was jumping wildly, already breaking the 200 mark.

But he dared not look at the dial.

His eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, his pupils trembling, as if he were seeing the most terrifying scene of his life.

That silver-gray Wuling Hongguang is still there.

It was like a ghost you couldn't shake off, or rather, like a plaster stuck to the back of a GTR. No matter how the GTR accelerated, changed lanes, or cut corners, those two dim halogen headlights always clung to the back, sometimes near, sometimes far, flashing with an almost mocking frequency.

"What the hell?! What the hell was changed? V8 or W12?"

Takumi Fujiwara roared in despair, cold sweat streaming down his forehead and stinging his eyes. "This isn't scientific! What about aerodynamics? What about grip? Doesn't Newton care?!"

Ahead lies a series of S-shaped curves.

This is the most dangerous section of Mount Akina in Keikaku, with cliffs on the left and precipice on the right.

"A great opportunity!"

Takumi Fujiwara's eyes hardened. This was a nightmare for high-horsepower rear-wheel-drive cars, but it was his four-wheel-drive god of war's forte. He quickly downshifted and revved the engine, the car precisely cutting into the apex of the corner, the tires drawing a perfect arc on the ground.

"I'll get rid of you! I'll definitely get rid of you this time!"

However, just as he was about to accelerate out of the corner, what he saw in the rearview mirror made his blood freeze instantly.

The Wuling Hongguang did not slow down.

It didn't even follow the conventional racing line.

Just as it entered the curve, the van's right front wheel suddenly slammed into the roadside ditch!

"squeak--!!!"

The ear-piercing sound of metal scraping echoed through the valley.

The bread cart used the edge of the drainage ditch as a track to resist the enormous centrifugal force. Although the cart was tilted at an astonishing angle, as if it would tip over at any moment, it simply didn't!

Instead, it was like a pebble launched by a slingshot, hurtling along the inside of the curve at a speed that completely defied the laws of physics!

"The drainage ditch goes around a bend?!"

Takumi Fujiwara screamed, his voice cracking, "That's a move you only see in manga! Are you crazy, you delivery guy?!"

Before he could recover from the shock, the last hairpin turn before the finish line appeared ahead of him—the infamous "five consecutive deadly hairpin turns".

The road here is extremely narrow, only wide enough for two vehicles to pass side by side. A slight mishap could result in a fatal accident.

Takumi Fujiwara gritted his teeth and had to apply the brakes early, preparing to cut into the outside lane and use traction braking to get through the sharp turn. This was the safest and most professional way to drive.

But in those fractions of a second when he slowed down...

A silver-gray shadow, carrying a resolute aura, darted in from the inner passage on his left!

"You're insane! There's no road there! It's the edge of a cliff!"

Takumi Fujiwara stared wide-eyed in horror.

Lu Jingyan is not crazy.

He sat in the violently jolting driver's seat, his body tilting slightly with the swaying of the vehicle, his expression as calm as if he were taking a walk in his own backyard.

His god-like driving skills gave him an intimate knowledge of every part of the vehicle and every inch of the road surface.

"Inertial drift".

He uttered a word softly, slammed his left foot on the clutch, pulled up the handbrake with his right hand and released it instantly, turning the steering wheel all the way to the left.

"Sizzle—"

The rear of the Wuling Hongguang suddenly swung out.

The car body turned sideways and slid towards the apex of the bend at an angle almost perpendicular to the road surface.

The left-side rearview mirror scraped against the guardrail at the edge of the cliff, sending sparks flying!

"rub!"

A soft sound—the sound of car paint making intimate contact with the guardrail.

But in Takumi Fujiwara's eyes, this scene was nothing short of a miracle.

That dilapidated van performed a death dance on the edge of the cliff. Utilizing a sudden shift in its weight, it smoothly and aggressively seized the only exit line, forcefully pushing his GTR onto the outside!

Overtook!

On the last bend, the Wuling Hongguang delivered the decisive blow to the 1,000-horsepower GTR!

"No!!!"

Takumi Fujiwara let out a desperate roar as he watched helplessly as the car with the "Professional Leak Repair" sticker blocked his way.

The race isn't over yet; there's still a 100-meter straight ahead.

There's still a chance for the GTR to accelerate in a straight line!

Just as he was about to floor the accelerator to overtake, the bread truck in front suddenly flashed its glaring red brake lights.

"Brake."

Lu Jingyan looked in the rearview mirror and tapped the brake pedal a few times with a very rhythmic motion.

This isn't to slow down, but to—

Forced to stop.

The Wuling Hongguang swerved left and right in the middle of the road, completely blocking all overtaking routes for the GTR. No matter which way Takumi Fujiwara turned the steering wheel, there was always that mocking rear end of the car in front of him.

The car was forced to slow down more and more.

100 yards... 80 yards... 40 yards...

Finally, with a tooth-grinding screech of brakes, the GTR had to reluctantly come to a stop on the side of the road, just ten meters from the finish line.

Lost.

Not only did they lose, but they were also forced to stop on the side of the road like ducks being herded.

The carriage was deathly silent.

Takumi Fujiwara's hands slid limply off the steering wheel, and he slumped into the bucket seat as if his bones had been removed. His mind went blank; his worldview, philosophy of life, and values ​​shattered into pieces at that moment.

He lost to a bread truck.

His proud technical skills, the millions he spent on modifying his car, were defeated by a Wuling Hongguang used for hauling goods.

How am I supposed to get by after this?

"Bastard! You bastard!"

The shame instantly transformed into overwhelming rage.

Takumi Fujiwara ripped off his seatbelt, shoved open the car door, and slammed his helmet to the ground.

"Clang!"

The helmet rolled a long way.

He stormed toward the bread truck ahead, rolling up his sleeves as he went, ready to drag the damned driver out and beat him up.

"Can't you drive?! How dare you cut me off like that?! Are you trying to kill me?! Get out of the car!"

He rushed to the driver's side, pounding on the window, spitting everywhere.

"Get down here! I'm going to cripple you today!"

The car window slowly rolled down.

There was no provocation as I had imagined, nor was there any expected plea for mercy.

A long, slender, fair hand reached out, holding a small black notebook, and waved it in front of Fujiwara Takumi.

By the light of the car headlights, Takumi Fujiwara could make out the police badge and the small, gold-embossed lettering—

[People's Police Certificate]

Before he could react, another hand reached out, this time holding a ticket book and a pen.

Inside the car, Lu Jingyan's voice, colder than the night breeze, rang out:

"What are you yelling for? Do you think yelling loudly can cover up the fact that you were speeding by 200%?"

He pushed open the car door, and a long leg clad in dark tactical pants stepped out, crushing the anger that Fujiwara Takumi hadn't even had a chance to vent.

Lu Jingyan stood in front of him, slowly flipping through the ticket, his pen tip making a few dots on the paper.

"Takumi Fujiwara, right? You have quite a fancy nickname."

He looked up, a hint of amusement in his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

"Here, take out your driver's license and vehicle registration. You lost the race and had to push your car down the mountain, right? Don't rush that, let's take a look at the list of modifications to your car first."

"Rear wing, exhaust, wheels, ECU... wow, quite a complete modification. Restoring it to its original state would be a huge undertaking."

Takumi Fujiwara stood frozen in place, his mouth agape, wide enough to fit a fist.

He looked at the upright and righteous Lu Jingyan, then at his own GTR still steaming, and only one thought occupied his mind—

This is practically entrapment!

Whose police were driving a Wuling Hongguang drifting to arrest people?!