America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

That's why he doesn't want to easily develop feelings or relationships with women, especially very beautiful women, that go beyond friendship.

The more beautiful a woman is, the more trouble she often causes.

Just then, the retro jukebox in the corner of the restaurant clicked and switched to a song, Marvin Guy's extremely ambiguous "Let's Get It On" echoing throughout the restaurant.

Michelle rested her chin on her hand, leaning slightly forward, revealing a striking glimpse of her fair skin through her neckline.

"Did you hear that?" She gestured with her chin toward the jukebox, her eyes sparkling.

"Even the machines are giving me a handicap... Weren't you quite interested in the cheerleading stuff earlier? I still have that uniform. Interested in coming over for a drink?"

Chen Ming coughed lightly and silently pushed the iced Americano onto the table between the two of them.

"I appreciate your kindness, but I really don't have any plans to date or take things further at the moment," Chen Ming said, shrugging.

"I'll have to finish my studies and get my degree first."

Michelle looked at him like he was an alien.

"Chen, you better not be kidding me." She rolled her eyes.

"I won't go into that anymore. You just broke into a shady restaurant's safe in the middle of the night and took down three thugs who were only interested in getting freebies with your bare hands. And now you're sitting here talking to me about your studies? Is that really still important to you?"

"It's very important. My mother taught me from a young age that if I didn't study hard, I would have to pick up trash." Chen Ming began to talk nonsense in a serious manner.

"I studied hard, so I can pick up corpses."

"Fine, you are indeed a good student." Michelle laughed in exasperation.

She stood up, picked up her bag from beside her seat, and stared down at Chen Ming.

"I can accept you using your studies as a shield, but—if you reject me one minute and I catch you hanging out with another woman in some hotel or on the beach the next..."

Michelle took out her camera and waved it around.

"My occupational hazard can flare up at any time... Don't mind if I take a few high-definition, unedited close-up shots with my Leica lens and post them on my Twitter headlines. Believe me, I have an astonishing amount of traffic right now."

"Of course not."

"That would be for the best... I rarely fall for people, so I won't give up easily."

After saying that, Michelle blew Chen Ming a kiss, turned around, and walked briskly out of the restaurant.

Chen Ming breathed a sigh of relief, went outside and walked to his car, but his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket.

Pressing the answer button, the roar of a sports car engine and a girl's voice came from the other end of the phone.

"Hey handsome, do you remember me? I'm the girl you dumped in the race driving a Hellcat?"

"I remember... your name is Elena?"

"Thank goodness, I thought you threw the napkin with my number on it into some food truck's trash can."

A relieved laugh came from the other end of the phone.

"Your memory is far worse than your driving skills."

"What do you need me for? Is there an underground meeting tonight?" Chen Ming asked casually, leaning against the car door.

"It's not about racing. Have you forgotten that you promised to consider becoming an assistant instructor at my racing club?" Elena complained loudly.

"I've been waiting for you for almost half a month, but I haven't received a single call... I really suspect you've forgotten about me, so I had no choice but to swallow my pride and call you myself."

Chen Ming was taken aback, then remembered that there was indeed such a thing.

"I've been busy dealing with my studies lately."

Chen Ming used the same perfect excuse he had just used on Michelle.

"Okay, that's one reason, but I'm desperately short of experts who can keep things in check right now... Recently, a bunch of rich kids joined the club, driving Porsche GT3s that can't even get off the ground properly. I'm getting annoyed to death by these rookies..."

"Oh—teaching a newbie is very tiring," Chen Ming deliberately dragged out his words.

"Three thousand dollars a day. Keep the tips for yourself. Those rich kids are stupid, but their wallets are bulging."

Chen Ming raised an eyebrow.

He happens to be quite free lately.

"That does sound like you'd earn more than working at a fast food restaurant," Chen Ming chuckled.

"Send me your address, I happen to have no classes tomorrow."

"Great! Come at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I'll give you the address right away."

……

The next morning at 9:50.

Chen Ming, with half a bacon bagel he bought from a street food cart in his mouth, parked the cart outside the club on time.

The surrounding parking lots were like a supercar showroom, with Ferraris and Porsches with temporary paper license plates everywhere, and quite a few modified muscle cars as well.

As soon as he opened the car door and got out, he heard a chorus of complaints.

"Elena, there's definitely something wrong with this track. My McLaren keeps slipping. It must be because the asphalt is terrible. I'm going to get my dad to buy this place and repave it..."

A young white man dressed in a full Balenciaga tracksuit, with a Rolex dangling from his wrist, was yelling at Elena.

Elena, dressed in a racing suit with the sleeves casually tied around her waist, rolled her eyes as she held a can of Monster Energy.

"Chad, how many times do I have to repeat myself? Your car is skidding because you didn't even turn off the traction control system, and you keep slamming on the brakes in the corners... It would be strange if you didn't skid. What does this have to do with the ground?"

She turned her head and saw Chen Ming walking over. Her eyes lit up instantly, and she rushed towards him as if she had seen a savior.

"Thank God you came just in time, I've had enough of them."

"The temptation of three thousand dollars a day is right there in front of me, I can't just be late right away." Chen Ming swallowed the last bite of his bagel and patted the bread crumbs off his hands.

"Is this the newbie you were talking about?"

"The absolute best of the best among newbies," Elena muttered in a low voice.

"He can wear out two sets of tires in a week. If his car wasn't good enough, he would have been finished long ago."

Chad walked over with a displeased expression, looking Chen Ming up and down as he wore a plain T-shirt and jeans.

"Elena, is this the new teaching assistant you found for us? He looks like he'd have trouble even getting his driver's license at the DMV... What kind of car do you drive, Asian guy, a Honda Civic?"

"What I drive isn't important." Chen Ming smiled at him.

"I heard that you drive a McLaren with over 600 horsepower like a mobility scooter for the disabled."

Upon hearing this, Chad's face turned red, and he began to hiss like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"What do you know? This car is a limited edition. You have no idea how difficult it is to drive... It's rear-wheel drive!"

"Give me the key." Chen Ming stretched out his hand without any hesitation.

"What do you want to do?"

"I'll take you to the racetrack and teach you how to drive at high speeds." Chen Ming raised an eyebrow.

"I can drive as fast as you want."

"Another big talker... If you throw up on my fur seat later, you'll have to pay me the full amount."

Chad hesitated for a moment, but finally slapped the car keys into Chen Ming's hand.

Elena, meanwhile, was trying not to laugh.

"You'd better sit tight, Chad, you'll soon know what real push-back feeling is like."