Farming Life Starting in Africa

The asphalt road at the exit of the abandoned factory was scorching hot from the exhaust pipes of these modified cars. The strange smell of burning rubber mingled with the evening breeze and drifted far away. The constant roar of idling engines made people's eardrums buzz.

Before Rosen could finish adjusting the palm-sized control terminal on his wrist, a faint scent of perfume wafted over. Giselle, carrying a bulging plastic bag of GPS trackers, leaned lazily against his car door frame, her arm casually draped over the roof.

Curious, she poked half her head through the car window, grabbed a black GPS module, and slammed it precisely onto Rosen's thigh with a "thud." A smirk played on her lips as she asked, "What's that little screen on your wrist? What's it for?"

Warm breath brushed against Rosen's cheek, his nose filled with her refreshing fragrance. His gaze involuntarily fell on her slightly pursed lips, which were so close to his. Rosen subconsciously licked his lips and deliberately drew out his words, "This is my exclusive secret weapon. Outsiders can't just see it."

"Alright, then after this trip, you'll have to tell me all the secrets you've been hiding." Before she finished speaking, Gisele leaned forward, grabbed Rosen by the back of the neck, pulled his head toward her, and kissed him decisively.

The surrounding drivers and onlookers instantly erupted in chaos, with shouts of laughter and jeers filling the air. Some even banged on the cars and blew their whistles in a vulgar manner, creating a noisy and chaotic atmosphere.

A few seconds later, Gisele released her grip, took a half step back against the car door, and her ears were slightly flushed.

Rosen rubbed his fingertips against the corner of his lips, savoring the warm touch from before. His eyes crinkled into two slits as he slowly teased, "That depends on whether you keep your promise after the game."

Before long, all the participating drivers returned to their positions and settled into their cars to check their condition.

Rosen looked down and opened the GPS terminal. The complete driving route for this trip popped up on the screen. This time, the trip was much wilder than the last one.

The entire race track runs through the busiest residential area in West Macallan, with streets lined with shops and intersections, and there are no shortcuts or back alleys to take.

Unfortunately, it was the evening rush hour, and there were already quite a few private cars on the road. Pedestrians strolling or hurrying home from get off work were constantly on the sidewalks, and the flow of vehicles and people was intertwined.

Although it's not exactly congested, it will greatly increase the difficulty of racing.

This competition is the true test of skill, leaving no room for any shortcuts or tricks.

Just imagining himself weaving through traffic made Rosen's blood boil, and he couldn't help but secretly complain to himself.

Only here can you have such a reckless racing in the downtown area. If you dared to speed on the road during rush hour in China, you would be stuck in traffic before you even reach one traffic light.

Suddenly, an eye-catching figure walked out from the outside of the crowd. The woman's waist was so slender that it could be encircled with one hand, and every step she took was full of charm. She was dressed so lightly that it looked like she was wearing very little clothing. Many men on the roadside had their eyes glued to her and couldn't take their eyes off her.

Rosen had absolutely no interest in her this time, simply because she was a black woman with chocolate skin.

Clutching a small rainbow flag, the woman slowly walked to the center of the track, stood still, and then flirted with each driver in their car.

Unfortunately, most of the drivers present had their own agendas and hardly anyone had time to pay attention to her overtures.

All the drivers on site were burning off their tires to warm them up. The tires screeched sharply against the asphalt, and every engine revved up, ready to go. The deep roars piled up in layers.

The overwhelming sense of pressure made the onlookers on the roadside feel their blood boil, clenching their fists and holding their breath, waiting for the match to start.

The next second, the woman swung her arm down sharply, and the rainbow flag fell heavily to the ground.

The eight cars launched almost simultaneously, and Rosen caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, his heart skipped a beat.

The black Dodge Charger on Tang's left suddenly lifted its front end off the ground, with the front wheels more than two feet off the ground. Its nose-up stance and explosive power were even more ferocious and domineering than my own high-horsepower monster.

The American V8 engine is truly unreasonable; it can unleash insane torque even at low RPMs without needing to rev it high.

Less than a hundred meters ahead, the Dodge Charger had already firmly overtaken the Lawson by half a car length, taking a commanding lead, while the other participating vehicles were left far behind by the two high-powered cars.

Before Rosen could take a second look, a white light shot up from the side lane like a madman – it was Bald Luke's white Nissan 350Z.

In the blink of an eye, he caught up with Tang and Rosen's car, and sped ahead to the front of the first group. His exhaust pipe was still spitting out flames. Rosen couldn't help but laugh. This bald guy seemed really desperate. He started with full nitro boost, afraid of falling behind even a little.

In just over ten seconds, Luke cut off the nitro output, causing his car speed to drop slightly. He then deliberately swerved to block Tang's Dodge directly in front of him, firmly blocking the lead position. It was clear that he wanted to deliberately slow down his opponent to annoy him.

Tang's brows furrowed instantly, a thousand complaints stuck in her throat.

Is this guy out of his mind? He deliberately blocked other people's path right at the start of the race; he's just looking for trouble.

Rosen, however, remained completely calm and didn't rush to change lanes or overtake. He simply followed the Dodge steadily, maintaining a safe distance. A few seconds later, the other race cars behind began to catch up, and the road instantly became congested again.

Luke's Nissan 350Z was firmly in first place, which infuriated Tang.

He must win this race to qualify for a meeting with drug lord Braga, and he is frustrated by being blocked.

Looking ahead, the first right-turn intersection appears not far ahead.

Rosen glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Ares' Chevrolet Camaro SS right behind him, following closely without leaving any gap.

Just as they were about to enter the right turn lane, Tang suddenly turned the steering wheel sharply to the right, posing the car as if he was about to cut into the inside of the turn to overtake. Rosen understood immediately and turned the steering wheel to the right in sync.

As soon as they took the lead, all the drivers in the cars in front and behind them subconsciously followed suit and crowded to the inside of the curve, and the entire inside lane instantly became a mess.

The group didn't even realize that Tang and Lawson were the only two heavy-duty, high-horsepower muscle cars in the entire area. Making a 90-degree right turn on a city street and cutting into the inner lane would be asking for trouble.

High-horsepower cars cannot drift when making high-speed turns on narrow city roads; they will lose a lot of speed.

The only way to truly unleash the engine's torque and maintain speed while cornering is to stay close to the outermost line of the curve, maximizing the turning radius and reducing the load on the steering gear, thus stabilizing the vehicle and allowing for continuous acceleration.