Chapter 57:
Harlee had truly caught him off guard.
Mayer’s teeth were set hard, determination etching his features as his hands danced over the controls with a masterful urgency. Soon enough, his tenacity was rewarded.
He pulled abreast of Harlee’s car again.
Harlee cast a sidelong glance at him, her eyes cold and distant, as if she’d been expecting this chase all along.
Her face remained stoic, but Mayer could almost taste the mockery in the air.
His heart hammered against his ribs, fueled by a mix of anger and adrenaline as he surged ahead, overtaking Harlee with a burst of speed.
Yet, before Mayer could relish the lead, she was beside him once more, exuding an air of casual indifference that belied the intensity of their race.
To an onlooker, it would appear a tight race, but any veteran racer would see the clear picture. The difference in their skill levels was staggering, and Harlee’s every move seemed designed to mock Mayer’s every attempt.
A chuckle broke the silence. The mischief was simply too much.
Yet, considering Mayer’s earlier foul play, the Multitopia crowd found it hard to sympathize with him. Instead, they looked on with disdain.
Indeed, Harlee was making a game of it.
After all, Mayer had dared to scratch her prized car. There was no way she would let him off the hook easily. She was determined to see Mayer defeated and humiliated, engraving the sting of defeat deeply into his soul and ensuring he’d rue the day he marred her car.
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With the finish line just within sight, Mayer, soaked in sweat, struggled with the controls, his heart racing like a drumbeat in his chest.
Then, with the thunderous roar of an engine that sent tremors through Mayer, the Phantom Racer surged forward.
In a flash, the Phantom Racer whipped in front of Mayer, performing a flawless ninety-degree spin.
The Phantom Racer faced Mayer directly, Harlee’s gaze piercing through him as her car’s rear stylishly crossed the finish line.
The onlookers’ jaws dropped in shock, followed by a thunderous wave of cheers.
Photographers captured this dramatic scene, which was bound to dominate the front-page headlines the following morning.
The race concluded, marked not just by defeat but by Mayer’s profound humiliation.
By the end, Mayer’s legs had given out, his hands hung lifelessly at his sides, and he appeared completely spent, both mentally and physically defeated, as his assistant supported him from the car.
With no dignity left to preserve, Mayer’s head dropped ever lower amid the onlookers’ relentless jeering and booing, a crushing blow that could just end his racing career.
Shortly after, a group of investigators dressed in white uniforms made their way toward Mayer from the entrance.
“Mayer Reed, the evidence points to you in an attempted murder. Stand down and come quietly with us.”
Feigning ignorance of Multitopian law, his assistant fired back in Rockylandn, asserting that Mayer, a foreign national, had no grounds to be detained by Multitopia.
However, the investigators responded in fluent Rockylandn, “Anyone who violates the law here falls under Multitopia’s jurisdiction, regardless of nationality. Should you see an issue, your embassy is the place to address it.”
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