America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Chen Ming opened McLaren's iconic butterfly doors and sat in the carbon fiber bucket seat, while Chad angrily got into the passenger seat and then pointed proudly at the center console.

"Be careful, my car is full of top-grade fur and carbon fiber... See that panel? It adjusts the chassis and power separately. This car accelerates from 0 to 100 km/h in just 2.9 seconds... You've never touched such a sophisticated machine in your life, have you?"

Chen Ming ignored him completely and began adjusting the rearview mirror and seat spacing, his fingers quickly exploring and trying out the paddle shifters and various physical buttons on the steering wheel.

Finally, he turned off the car's ESC electronic stability system and turned the knob directly to track mode.

I have to thank Dian's driving skills. Although I had never driven such a luxury car before, as soon as I sat in the driver's seat, some basic information automatically appeared in my brain.

Having a system is so convenient...

Chad couldn't help but laugh as he watched Chen Ming patting and pressing things.

"Good heavens, you sound like a redneck country bumpkin who just came from a Texas farm and is visiting a luxury store for the first time... Do you even recognize those signs?"

Chen Ming stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Chad.

"Did you know that there is a very famous proverb in China?"

"What?" Chad was taken aback.

"Students with poor grades have a lot of stationery," Chen Ming said as he started the engine.

"boom--"

The 4-liter twin-turbocharged V8 engine behind him roared instantly, its sound humming through the cabin.

"What this means is that the worst test-takers are, the more and better quality pencils, rulers, and erasers they buy." Chen Ming gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his eyes slightly cold.

"Because they can only cover up their technical incompetence by boasting about these meaningless stationery items."

Chad's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

"Who are you calling a bastard—"

"Keep your head close to the seat, fasten your seatbelt, I'm about to accelerate."

Before Chad could finish his rant, Chen Ming slammed the accelerator to the floor, the tachometer needle instantly approaching the redline, and the exhaust pipe spewed out a violent backfire.

"Wait, wait a minute! You haven't even warmed up the tires yet, and there's a sharp turn right ahead!"

Chad shouted in terror, trying to stop Chen Ming, but it was too late.

Chen Ming released the brakes.

The McLaren 720S roared into the track like a cannonball, delivering a breathtaking surge of acceleration.

The intense push-back sensation instantly pressed Chad firmly into the seat.

In just a few seconds, the McLaren's speedometer soared past 100 miles per hour, and the sharp turn ahead rushed towards them like a monster with its jaws wide open.

But Chen Ming showed no intention of braking or slowing down.

He jerked the steering wheel just before entering the curve, and with precise throttle control, caused the car to lose traction instantly.

"squeak--"

Accompanied by the sound of tires rubbing against the asphalt, the McLaren glided along the red and white curb on the inside of the corner with an extremely exaggerated and perfect drift, as if cutting through butter with a knife.

Chad slammed uncontrollably against the car window, his arrogance long gone.

"Heavy gift crab, are you crazy?!" Chad screamed, gripping the car door handle tightly with both hands.

"How many laps have you done on this track before? Are you a professional race car driver?"

"I've never run before, this is my first time."

Chen Ming controlled the steering wheel with one hand, easily straightening the car, his tone as calm as if he were ordering a hamburger at a restaurant.

"I'm not familiar with this track yet, so I'll drive a little slower now and memorize the corner positions... We'll pick up speed on the second lap."

"Speed ​​up? You call that driving slower?!"

Chad looked down at his empty chest and felt like his life was in danger.

"Slow down! Slam on the brakes! I haven't even had time to fasten my seatbelt!"

"Shut up, this is a racetrack, I don't have time to find your seatbelt buckle..."

Chen Ming downshifted two gears in quick succession, causing the engine tachometer to spike to red, giving the McLaren the appearance of low-altitude flight on the straightaway.

"Fuck fuck fuck..." Chad was tossed around like a broken rattle drum by the centrifugal force, swaying left and right in the passenger seat.

"There's an S-curve ahead! Slow down, slow down, slow down!"

"Slowing down is for the weak."

Chen Ming precisely cut into the apex of each corner, the smell of burning tires seeping into the cabin through the air conditioning vents—a smell that was both alluring and terrifying.

By the second lap, Chen Ming had completely mastered the track.

He floored the accelerator, and the 720S, like an orange lightning bolt, traced a perfect arc through the continuous complex curves.

"To be honest, Chad, the steering ratio of this car is too soft. It feels like I'm driving a yacht."

While Chen Ming was drifting at the limit with one hand on the steering wheel, he even had the leisure to make jokes.

"You...you should stop talking..."

Chad's face turned ashen; his arrogance had been completely extinguished, turning into stomach acid.

Ten minutes later, Chen Ming slowed down and executed a clean drift, bringing the McLaren to a steady stop in front of Elena.

The car door opened, and Chad tumbled out of the passenger seat, squatting on the grass beside the track and retching uncontrollably. His $2,000 Balenciaga tracksuit was wrinkled like a car rag.

"How was it?" Elena leaned closer and whistled gloatingly.

"Is the teaching assistant I hired quite professional?"

It took Chad a long time to finally raise his head, albeit shakily.

The look in his eyes when he looked at Chen Ming no longer held any disdain; instead, it revealed a sense of awe and admiration.

"My God, this is so exciting... I feel like I was driving a fake car before." Chad stood up, his legs still trembling, holding onto the car door.

"How did you do that? That cornering angle... I felt like I was only one centimeter away from heaven."

Chen Ming jumped out of the car and tossed the keys aside.

"You'll get it with practice."

"No!" Chad, after regaining his composure, lunged at Chen Ming and grabbed his sleeve.

"You have to teach me. If you're willing to teach me that cornering technique, I'll write you a cash check..."

Chen Ming glanced at Elena, who was raising her eyebrows at him frantically and gesturing wildly—meaning something like, "Big spender, hurry up and fleece him."

"Alright then." Chen Ming patted the dirt off Chad's shoulder.

"First, learn how to buckle your seatbelt, then I'll teach you slowly."

"You're my God!" Chad was so excited he almost knelt down. "If you teach me, you can drive my Lamborghini SVJ however you want!"

"Alright, Chad, go over there and have some soda to calm your nerves. Don't die on my track." Elena was amused by what she saw.

Chad rolled towards the rest area, thanking them profusely, his steps as light as if he were walking on cotton.

"Well done," Elena said, handing Chen Ming a bottle of soda.

"This kid is used to being arrogant and domineering, and he doesn't listen to anyone... but today you actually turned him into a docile kitten."

"I am indeed good at educating others, and I know all kinds of methods." Chen Ming took the drink and took a sip.

"But seriously," Elena said, leaning against the railing of the repair station.

"With your skills, staying in school is a waste of your life. Why not become a professional race car driver or something? You could definitely make a name for yourself."