America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

"Kid, you better step on the gas and don't block the way, or I'll squeeze you and your car into the bridge pier."

"You'd better not appear in my windshield after the green light turns on." Chen Ming rolled up the car window.

"I usually only deal with corpses."

Ignoring the other party's taunts, Chen Ming stepped on the gas and drove into the preparation zone.

The race starts in the middle of an abandoned container yard, and the route is brutal and deadly—it goes through three blocks, bypasses an overpass pier, and finally turns back through the dry concrete channel of the Los Angeles River.

There are no road closures along the way. If you encounter a civilian vehicle, it's all up to your reaction time. If you get hit and killed, that's just bad luck. The same goes for the police.

There were more than a dozen flashy modified cars parked around, including a Subaru STI with a large rear wing and a Ford Mustang with a heavily modified exhaust...

Chen Ming even saw a pure black Dodge Hellcat inside.

This monster has over 700 horsepower right out of the box. If it were on a straight interstate highway, a single press of the accelerator would leave even police helicopters trailing behind in exhaust fumes.

Fortunately, the route is entirely within the city, filled with sharp turns and narrow alleys. Having a high horsepower isn't everything; in the end, skill is what matters most.

The roar of exhaust pipes rose and fell as a Latina girl in a bikini swung into the center of the track, holding a starting flag.

Chen Ming shifted into gear.

Just as he was about to drive the car onto the starting line, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a faint reflection in the shadow of the abandoned factory on his right.

Behind a rusty forklift, a figure in a dark trench coat was furtively snapping photos of gang leaders betting outside the stadium, completely unaware that several thugs were already approaching her.

Chen Ming felt that the face looked somewhat familiar.

Michelle

"What a small world..."

Chen Ming cursed inwardly, then jerked the steering wheel, and the car that should have been on the starting line shot forward instantly.

"squeak--"

With a screech of brakes, the steel beast swerved and cut right between Michelle and the thugs, the dust kicked up by its tires instantly engulfing the corner.

Michelle, who was focused on taking photos, was startled.

"Cough cough cough... Damn it, do you even know how to drive, you idiot!"

She choked so badly that tears welled up in her eyes. While coughing and covering her mouth and nose, she also protected the SLR camera in her arms and cursed loudly.

Until the passenger window slowly rolled down.

Chen Ming rested one hand on the steering wheel, a smile appearing on his lips as he looked at the disheveled female reporter outside.

"Do you need a ride, ma'am?"

Michelle's swear words caught in her throat, and she froze on the spot.

"Chen... what are you doing here?" Michelle stared wide-eyed, looking at the car and then at Chen Ming.

"Where did this Dodge Gallard come from?"

"Besides packing up corpses, I occasionally do some side jobs to earn extra money." Chen Ming patted the steering wheel.

"As for the car... it was lent to me by a kind citizen. He accidentally broke the window of my food cart and felt very bad about it, so he not only lent me the car to use, but also insisted on giving me three thousand dollars as compensation."

"..."

Michelle's lips twitched upon hearing this.

If there were such kind people in Los Angeles, they would probably have been robbed of everything, down to their underwear.

Chen Ming didn't dwell on the topic. He slightly raised his chin and pointed out the car window to several gangsters who were cursing and trying to get around him through the thick smoke from the exhaust pipe.

"What are you doing sneaking around under the gangsters' noses in the middle of the night? If I hadn't just happened to be blocking the road here, your camera and you would be torn to pieces tonight... or worse."

Michelle glanced back and finally realized how dangerous it had been. She quickly opened the car door and climbed into the passenger seat.

"I've given up the Evans line as agreed." Michelle took a breath to calm her racing heart.

"But I always needed to keep digging, so I set my sights on this."

She pointed ahead to the roaring starting line of the racetrack.

"This underground car race in Los Angeles has only been around for about a year, but its scale has expanded to an outrageous degree, even surpassing the local traditional gang-related car races..."

Michelle lowered her voice, her tone revealing the keen insight characteristic of a journalist.

"I paid an informant to inquire, and this kind of unrestricted, deadly car chase is not something that ordinary street thugs can organize. The mastermind is said to be an extremely wealthy, perverted tycoon who specializes in setting up these high-death situations for thrills."

"I infiltrated here tonight to take a picture of the core person in charge's face, and then follow the clues to uncover the true identity of the financial backer behind him."

Upon hearing this, Chen Ming's mind immediately flashed back to the black hard card the fat dealer had handed him, and the perverse tastes of the upper-class circles that Sean had mentioned...

It seems that the underground boxing and car racing in Los Angeles are likely backed by the same group of "big shots" drinking champagne in Beverly Hills.

"Bang!"

Just then, the car's hood was slammed hard from the outside.

The thugs who had been blocked by Chen Ming's car finally circled around. The leader, a black man, was banging on the windshield with a baseball bat, hurling extremely offensive street slang at Chen Ming, signaling him to get out of the car.

Michelle's face turned pale instantly, while Chen Ming beside her casually shifted gears.

If someone were banging on the car window like that under normal circumstances, Chen Ming would definitely not mind getting out of the car and talking to the person...

But it's fine today, anyway, it's not his car.

"Fasten your seatbelt."

"What?" Michelle hadn't reacted yet.

"I told you to fasten your seatbelt. The countdown is already starting, I'm about to depart." Chen Ming smiled faintly, then took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on.

floor the accelerator.

boom--

The high-horsepower V8 engine roared loudly, the black Dodge's rear wheels spun freely, emitting large plumes of acrid white smoke, before it suddenly launched forward.

The thugs blocking the front of the car had no time to dodge.

boom!

The black man wielding the baseball bat was the first to be hit, thrown directly by the heavy safety bar and crashing into a pile of discarded tires. The others scrambled to either side, inhaling a mouthful of exhaust fumes and dust...

The starting point of the track.

The bikini-clad woman standing in the middle of two rows of modified cars just happened to wave her checkered flag down forcefully.

"Go!"

More than a dozen cars started burning out at the same time, rushing toward the street with a deafening exhaust roar.

Chen Ming's black Dodge entered the track at the perfect moment, forcibly cutting into the main track from the side and unceremoniously squeezing into the first group, with the bright green Chevrolet that had mocked him before right next to him.

"Damn it, where did this Asian guy come from?!" The white driver in the Chevrolet was startled. He jerked the steering wheel to avoid him while rolling down the window and cursing.

"Oh my God—"

Michelle was pressed firmly into her seat by the strong jolt, her blond hair flying wildly in the wind, and she only recovered after Chen Ming closed the car window.