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

Faced with that black identification document, Takumi Fujiwara's arrogance deflated instantly, like a punctured balloon.

His face, once smeared with paint and exuding an air of arrogance, was now as stiff as a piece of dried-out cured meat. A gurgling sound escaped his throat, as if he wanted to say something defiant to save face, but under Lu Jingyan's icy gaze, he finally managed to squeeze out a utterance barely audible:

"Officer...it's a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding..."

"Misunderstand?"

Lu Jingyan chuckled and casually put his police ID back in his pocket. He ignored the terrified "driving god" and instead slowly circled the GTR that was still emitting a burnt smell.

It's like a picky buyer scrutinizing a substandard product.

"Tsk tsk tsk."

As Lu Jingyan looked at the ticket, he shook his head, tapping his pen on the ticket book with a loud clatter. "I have to say, you have money, but no taste."

He stopped at the rear of the car and pointed with the tip of his pen at the exaggerated carbon fiber rear wing.

"Unauthorized installation of aerodynamic kits and alteration of the vehicle's appearance without registration. This rear wing looks like a clothes rack; besides increasing wind resistance and fuel consumption, it basically just makes you roll more smoothly when you flip over."

Takumi Fujiwara's face twitched; his heart was bleeding. Those were genuine Nismo kits he'd spent 50,000 yen to buy from Japan!

Lu Jingyan didn't give him a chance to feel sorry for the car. He walked to the side of the car, squatted down, and looked at the chassis that was almost touching the ground and the wheels that were wider than the car body.

"Altering the gearbox gear ratios, replacing wheels with larger ones without authorization, and illegally modifying the suspension system."

He stood up and pointed one last time to the exhaust pipe that was still emitting blue smoke.

"And this one, straight exhaust, no catalytic converter. What, do you think the air quality in Jinghai is too good, or that the citizens' sleep quality is too good, so you have to make a racket for everyone?"

Each time a ticket was pointed out, Lu Jingyan would tick it off on the ticket. The scratching sound of writing was particularly jarring on the quiet mountaintop, like a death sentence being read to the "Godzilla" GTR.

"You even reprogrammed the ECU and modified the engine parameters."

Lu Jingyan closed the ticket book, looked up, and said with a sharp gaze, "After all this, apart from the Nissan logo, does your car have anything to do with the original factory parts? This isn't modification, it's assembly."

"I...I did all this for performance..."

Takumi Fujiwara was still trying to argue, but his voice grew weaker and weaker, "This is the spirit of competition..."

"Sports spirit?"

Lu Jingyan sneered, his smile full of mockery. "On the racetrack, that's called competition; on the road, that's called risking your life. You're using other people's lives to satisfy your adrenaline; that's immoral."

At that moment, a series of urgent and frequent police sirens sounded from the foot of the mountain.

The alternating red and blue police lights instantly illuminated half of the mountain, indicating that the traffic police support team that Lu Jingyan had called for before going up the mountain had arrived.

More than a dozen motorcycles sped up the mountain like swords, quickly blocking all the roads. The rich kids who were just watching the excitement from the sidelines, or even trying to sneak away, were instantly surrounded.

"All personnel, turn off the engines immediately! Get out of the vehicles! Hands behind your heads, squat down by the roadside!"

The traffic police captain leading the team roared, and those pampered young masters and ladies, who had never seen anything like this before, were so frightened that their legs went weak, and they obediently squatted down with their heads in their hands, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Lu Jingyan tore a page from the ticket book and slammed it heavily onto the windshield of the GTR, as if applying a talisman.

"Snapped!"

This crisp sound completely shattered Fujiwara Takumi's last psychological defenses.

"Suspected of dangerous driving, the circumstances of which are extremely egregious."

Lu Jingyan's voice was calm, professional, and ruthless: "According to relevant laws and regulations, the motor vehicle will be impounded, the driver's license will be revoked, and the driver will be prohibited from obtaining a driver's license again for five years."

"Five...five years?!"

Takumi Fujiwara's eyes widened, as if he had been struck by lightning.

For a rich second-generation heir who is obsessed with cars and relies on speeding to make a name for himself, having his driver's license suspended for five years is worse than being sentenced to prison. This means that for the next five years, he can only sit in the passenger seat and watch others drive, or squeeze onto subways and buses that he finds physically repulsive.

This is nothing short of spiritual castration!

"No! No way! You can't revoke my driver's license!"

Takumi Fujiwara broke down. He lunged at Lu Jingyan, trying to grab his sleeve. "My dad is...I am...I have money! I'll pay the fine! I'll pay any amount! Don't impound my car! Don't revoke my license!"

Lu Jingyan turned slightly to the side, avoiding his oily hands.

"money?"

He straightened his wind-blown collar and said indifferently, "Here, money doesn't matter. Who your father is doesn't matter either. Before the traffic law, everyone is equal."

After saying that, he reached behind him and pulled out the familiar silver bracelet from his waist, the one that struck fear into the hearts of countless playboys in the capital.

"Hand out."

Fujiwara Takumi stared at the cold metal, trembling all over, and instinctively wanted to hide his hands behind his back.

But under Lu Jingyan's oppressive gaze, he still gave in.

"Click."

The handcuffs were locked.

At that moment, all talk of underground racing legends and the myths of Mount Akina vanished. All that remained was a single suspect accused of dangerous driving.

"take away."

Lu Jingyan waved his hand, and two traffic police officers immediately stepped forward and supported Fujiwara Takumi, whose legs were as weak as mud, on either side.

At the same time, a yellow heavy-duty trailer slowly reversed.

Under Takumi Fujiwara's desperate gaze, the massive iron hook mercilessly snagged the GTR's expensive front bumper. As the winch turned, this "Godzilla," which he had painstakingly built with millions of dollars, was dragged onto the flatbed truck like a dead fish.

"Be gentle! Be gentle! That's carbon fiber! It'll crack!"

Takumi Fujiwara screamed at the top of his lungs, tears and snot streaming down his face, "My suspension! My shock absorbers! Don't drag this out!"

"Shut up."

The traffic police officer escorting him gave him an impatient shove, saying, "Now it's evidence in the case, not your precious possession. When we get to the impound lot, you'll have plenty of time to cry."

Watching his beloved car being towed away, Takumi Fujiwara finally lowered his proud head and let out a childlike whimper.

If only I had known then what I know now, I wouldn't have done it in the first place.

If he were given another chance, he swore he would never go out of his way to see a Wuling Hongguang again, and he would never provoke a crazy person who was out "buying groceries" in the middle of the night.

Lu Jingyan stood by the roadside, watching this scene. He felt no joy of victory, only a calm acceptance of having fulfilled his duty.

He clapped his hands, preparing to turn around and deal with the remaining "ghost fire teenagers" squatting on the ground.

Just then.

Suddenly, a figure rushed out from the crowd of onlookers.

She was a girl wearing a JK uniform and with pink hair. She looked young, with exaggerated smoky makeup on her face, and was holding a limited-edition Prada bag in her hand.

Like a small cannonball, she recklessly broke through the cordon, spread her arms, and stood firmly in front of the police car escorting Takumi Fujiwara.

"Stop the car! Don't arrest him!"

The girl screamed, her voice shrill and piercing with agitation, "Why are you arresting him! He didn't hit anyone! He was just driving a little fast!"

Lu Jingyan frowned and stopped walking.

Another legal illiterate?

"Miss, please move aside and don't obstruct official business," he said coldly.

"I won't allow it!"

The girl looked up, her still-childish face filled with blind worship and so-called "loyalty." She glanced at the dejected Takumi Fujiwara in the car, a resolute glint in her eyes.

"It's me! I was driving!"

She shouted, pointing to her own nose with an air of righteous indignation, "I was the one speeding! I was the one drifting! It has nothing to do with my brother! Arrest me if you want! Don't arrest my idol!"

The entire room fell silent.

Even Takumi Fujiwara in the car was stunned, looking incredulously at this little fangirl who usually just followed him around shouting "666".

Looking at the girl, who was probably only eighteen or nineteen years old, and then at the thousand-horsepower GTR, Lu Jingyan couldn't help but laugh in exasperation.

"Did you drive it?"

He walked up to the girl, leaned down slightly, and his powerful aura made her subconsciously take a step back.

"Little sister, it's fine to be a fan, but don't let it make you lose your mind."