America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Using its landing momentum, the Dodge Charger sped off the bridge pier before the Hellcat could regain its speed and charged into the finish line at full speed.

Chen Ming slammed on the brakes.

The tires left billowing white smoke on the rough asphalt road, and the car slid straight toward the dense crowd behind the finish line due to inertia.

"Sizzle—"

The car came to a smooth stop, the bumper less than half a meter from the knees of the people in the front row. The sudden stop even flipped up the miniskirts of several placard-holding girls near the finish line...

Normally, this would have caused a commotion and whistles, but at this moment, no one turned their head at all.

All eyes were fixed on the black Dodge warhorse driven by Chen Ming.

"champion!!!"

Immediately afterwards, someone smashed a beer bottle in their hand, followed by deafening cheers and roars that even drowned out the engine noise of the vehicles following behind.

"Jesus Christ...am I dreaming?"

A black man with dreadlocks in the front row had his hands over his head and didn't even notice when a cigarette fell on his clothes and burned a hole in it.

"Did he just drive over a wall? Is this kid flying a plane?!"

"What can I say?"

"They actually took down the Hellcat with a warhorse... That's the most awesome thing I've ever seen!"

"Where did you get the car modified? I want to go there too!"

A tall, white girl wearing fishnet stockings pounced on the hood of the plane, yelling at Chen Ming through the windshield while starting to unbutton her clothes.

"Let me into your car, handsome, you can do whatever you want to me!"

The noise outside was deafening, but the car was relatively quiet.

Michelle gripped the seat with both hands, her chest heaving violently.

"Chen..." she looked at Chen Ming, her voice slightly unsteady.

"Did we just fly?"

"I just borrowed a road." Chen Ming took out the car key and then tidied up the debris that had been scattered due to the shaking.

"No, we were definitely at least two meters off the ground—you were driving on a wall!"

"Is there a federal law that prohibits driving on walls?"

Chen Ming unbuckled his seatbelt.

"By the way, there should have been cameras filming when we were flying over from above, right?"

"...Damn it!"

Michelle paused for a moment, looked down at the camera in her arms, and then slammed her hand on her thigh.

She was so terrified that she had no idea that the moment she flew over the Hellcat could have been a great photo opportunity—an opportunity that might only come once in a lifetime.

"If we didn't get a picture, that's fine. Let's get out of the car and get the money."

As soon as Chen Ming pushed open the car door and his feet touched the ground, the surrounding crowd surged forward instantly, whistling and cheering. Several burly men even tried to lift Chen Ming up and throw him into the air, but fortunately he reacted quickly enough to dodge.

"Make way, everyone, please move aside!"

A passage suddenly parted at the back of the crowd.

The Dodge Hellcat slowly came to a stop a few meters away. The door opened, and a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a red and black motorcycle outfit, stepped out.

She had her hair tied in a neat high ponytail, and her features were sharp and striking. She walked straight toward Chen Ming.

The surrounding noise immediately subsided.

The girl walked closer, her gaze sweeping over the scratched body of the Dodge Charger, then raised her right hand.

Seeing this, Chen Ming raised his hand and gave her a hard slap.

"I accept my defeat wholeheartedly." The girl grinned, her tone devoid of any resentment.

"Overtaking by hugging the concrete wall... This is the coolest move I've ever seen while driving. Tonight's championship belongs to you."

"You flatter me." Chen Ming nodded slightly.

"Your straight-line blocking is also very professional."

"My name is Elena," the girl said, extending her hand confidently.

"Your skills are simply phenomenal. We can exchange tips sometime. How about coming to my racing club to be my practice partner?"

"No, I'm usually quite busy." Chen Ming tried to wave his hand to refuse.

"I can give you three thousand dollars a day."

"But then again...where is your club?"

Elena raised an eyebrow, about to give out the address, when two coughs suddenly came from the side.

Michelle glanced back and forth between the two men, then let out a soft snort of displeasure.

"Hey, racing legend, before we chat, shouldn't we go get our money back?"

She emphasized the word "we," as if asserting some kind of sovereignty.

Chen Ming took out his phone and wrote down Elena's number.

"Contact me when you have time."

After saying that, he led Michelle through the crowd of revelers and headed straight for the person in charge.

The black man exhaled a smoke ring, his gaze sweeping over Chen Ming, but he didn't immediately push the bag of money to him.

"The entire prize money is right here." The black man pointed to the bag on the ground, his tone suddenly becoming extremely polite.

"But we'll have to take a few minutes of your time before you get the money."

"What do you want to do?"

"Our boss just saw you overtaking on the security camera." The black man pointed to the top floor of the abandoned factory behind him.

"He is very interested in your technology and would like to meet you."

Chen Ming frowned slightly.

He had no interest in who the boss was; he only cared about his own bonus.

"Lead the way." Chen Ming was too lazy to waste any more words.

Michelle's eyes lit up immediately—this was a golden opportunity to get in touch with the core of the underground racing network, and she stepped forward to grab Chen Ming's arm.

"I'm his navigator, we have to go together," Michelle said first.

The group climbed the rusty metal staircase to the third floor.

The Black man pushed open a heavy soundproof door.

The top floor space has been transformed into an extremely luxurious space, with a gaunt old man with gray hair sitting on a large leather sofa.

The moment they saw who it was, both of them were stunned.

A hint of surprise flashed in Chen Ming's eyes.

The person sitting on the sofa was none other than Viktor, the Russian perverted old man who had previously been staring at a room full of corpses in his private estate.

"Haha... I thought it was some retired professional racer from Detroit causing trouble."

Victor put down his glass and suddenly burst into laughter.

"I never expected it to be you."

Michelle suddenly turned to look at Chen Ming.

"You two know each other?"

Chen Ming, without changing his expression, pulled his arm away from Michelle's grasp and walked directly to the guest seat opposite the leather sofa.

"Mr. Victor...it seems your hobbies include not only collecting unidentified corpses to make wax figures, but also paying to watch other people crash their cars."

Victor waved.

The black man and his thugs retreated, slamming the door shut behind them.

"As people get older, they need more intense stimulation to prove they're still alive." Victor poured a glass of vodka and pushed it in front of Chen Ming.

"But I really didn't expect you to be such a top-notch race car driver... How did you do that?"