BROOOOOM—!
Dante shifted gears and twisted the throttle to its limit. The engine roared heavily, as heavy as his mood every time he looked at the crimson lightning ahead of him.
Realizing he had the advantage in straight-line speed, he desperately tried to close the distance on the straights.
But before long, another series of S-corners arrived.
To maintain high speed, Dante had to strain his eyes and struggle through every corner, while ahead of him, the other vehicle flicked through them with terrifying smoothness, widening the gap once again in the blink of an eye.
And just when it seemed like the corner section was over, the elevation changes came next.
This time, Dante finally had no choice but to slow down, while Jawed only needed a light countersteer, as though riding on clouds, gliding through as effortlessly as empty air itself.
"..."
Veins bulged on Dante's forehead as his fists clenched tighter. Sweat dripped into his eyes, making them sting red.
Every breath grew heavier, as though suppressing his rising fury.
On the instrument cluster, Stak had also fallen silent, making the atmosphere even more suffocating.
"Damn it!" Dante growled, nearly losing control of himself.
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto the horizon ahead, where the mountain road curved behind a towering cliff face.
The rock wall completely blocked the exit of the turn from view.
Normally, Dante would have slowed down for a blind corner like this. But when he saw the long straight leading into it, his eyes sharpened coldly.
"This is our only chance, Stak! As long as we catch him here, we'll have an opportunity to pass him!"
If he didn't go all out now, he might never be able to catch that phantom of speed again.
To lose here, to a level 1 racer and a level C Mecha Human. Dante absolutely refused to accept such humiliation.
167 meters remaining. He twisted the throttle harder and kicked into an even higher gear.
Stak's speedometer shook violently.
The motorcycle charged straight toward the cliffside section—150 km/h.
Using the minimap's corner image as reference, Dante calculated the angle, and the instant he reached the turning point—He slammed the brakes and countersteered sharply into the corner.
Seeing the silhouette of the bike ahead drawing closer and closer, a confident smile spread across Dante's face. So confident that he failed to realize Jawed was intentionally slowing down.
Because Jawed wouldn't ignore someone in danger just for the sake of victory.
And then, exactly as Jawed predicted, and contrary to Dante's calculations, the motorbike lost control.
Dante's corner calculation itself wasn't wrong. The problem was that the speed was simply too high for him to handle.
Powerful wind slammed against his visor. Time slowed.
The three-D guardrail grew closer and closer in his vision.
SKREEEEECH—!
The tires carved across the asphalt with a piercing scream.
BOOM!
The golden vehicle crashed violently into the barrier. The overwhelming force struck it like a sledgehammer, causing the wall to crack like glass before shattering apart completely.
Everything happened far too quickly for Dante to react. By the time he realized what had happened, he had already been thrown from the bike, suspended in midair. Beneath him lay a bottomless abyss.
"H... huh..."
His mind went blank. The only thing left in his ears was the screaming wind.
Watching from the screens, both Larry and the audience were horrified, nearly frozen speechless.
And then, just before gravity could drag the arrogant rider into the depths below, a golden light flashed.
A hand suddenly reached out.
"Grab my hand, brother!" Stak tightly seized Dante's wrist, stopping his body right at the edge of the abyss.
Dante gasped violently, his chest feeling ready to burst apart. Realizing the situation he was in, he shouted in panic:
"Let go of me, bro! Otherwise you'll get dragged down too!"
"..."
In response to that panicked scream, Stak stared at his partner with completely dead eyes, wondering whether this guy was actually an idiot.
".... You do realize I could hold up ten people like you without a problem, right?"
"... Ah. Right."
"..."
"..."
Dante fell silent and allowed himself to be pulled back up.
Ahead, after seeing through the rearview mirror that the situation had stabilized, Jawed finally let out a sigh of relief and decided not to interfere any further.
***
"..."
Dante blankly watched the racers behind about to catch up to where he stood, then looked once more toward the crimson figure racing farther toward the foot of the mountain.
Neither he nor Stak had suffered more than a few scratches. They could immediately continue the race. But even if they did chase after him, could they really catch up?
"What's wrong, bro? We haven't been eliminated yet, so shouldn't we get moving?" Stak spoke up.
Dante did not answer immediately. Then, he suddenly muttered: "That weird guy is pretty good, huh? No.... I should say he's ridiculously skilled."
"... Yeah. He dared to challenge you after all. So having real skill makes sense."
"Heh... challenge me? What am I even in that guy's eyes? If anything, that was just him warning me in advance so I wouldn't embarrass myself too badly. Though it didn't really help." Dante laughed bitterly at himself.
"I told you before that once we entered the official scene, I'd show those arrogant idiots what real skill looked like, right? Haha, looking at things now, those words sound pretty ridiculous."
So damn pathetic.
Turns out he never had any real skill at all. He was just being carried. The one who actually had ability this whole time was Stak.
He had simply spent too long crushing weak opponents, to the point that he started believing he himself was talented.....
"Hey, bro. Why do you think we're called the stars of the underground scene?" Stak suddenly asked.
"Hmm? That's because your performance specs are absurdly strong, way beyond these wannabe racers. I just happened to benefit from it too, that's all."
Hearing that, the black-haired Mecha guy shook his head with a helpless smile.
"That's not true at all. If that were the case, I'd be the one everyone worshipped. But clearly you've got more fans than me. Even other Mecha Humans admire you, not me!"
"Well..."
"Besides, I'm just a level B Mecha Human with average stats. I'm nowhere near as overwhelming as you think.
The reason people admire us is because of you. Because despite all the ridicule and contempt, you still stood beside an average Mecha Human like me and crushed everyone who looked down on us. That's why we made it this far. It's all thanks to you."
"I...." Hearing such overwhelming praise from his partner, Dante became visibly awkward.
"Didn't you say it yourself, that no one in the underground could keep up with us anymore. If we call those guys average, then doesn't that mean you've already surpassed average?
And if we've already surpassed average once, then why can't we keep climbing higher? Or is my bro really planning to give up just because his illusion shattered?"
Stak raised his fist patiently, waiting for a response from his rider.
And Dante, after hearing all that, could hardly leave his brother hanging.
Haa... fine then. Calling myself average really doesn't suit me. But giving up suits me even less. Looks like entering the official scene won't happen in just a day or two after all. Guess we'll just have to keep moving forward, huh?"
"Yup"
The two bumped fists together. Golden light reflected across the cliffside, illuminating the dark abyss below.
"Then let's recall the thing that let that guy leave us behind. That absurd cornering technique...."
***
"Haizz..."
Jawed let out a sigh, absentmindedly playing with tiny Halley on the control display.
"Is something wrong? Are you sick somewhere?" Halley asked worriedly.
"Ah, no, it's nothing. I'm just a little bored."
Right now, he had left everyone behind. Once again, he was alone on this vast endless road.
Everything was still too easy. Too dull. There wasn't even the slightest challenge.
Jawed quietly wondered, were the excitement he had felt while escaping the factory had merely been a self-created illusion?
Well, at least this time he wasn't entirely alone. Little Halley was still here with him.
Still, there was some disappointment lingering inside him.
Suddenly, at that exact moment—VRRRAAAOOOM!
A deep, prideful roar, like the roar of a tiger, thundered from behind him.
A golden figure that should have disappeared long ago suddenly flickered within his mirror.
"Oh?" Jawed looked mildly surprised. How did the guy catch up so quickly? He wondered.
At the next series of connected hairpins, Jawed once again led Halley smoothly into the corners, performing textbook-perfect late apex lines one after another.
Glancing into the rearview mirror, he noticed the bike behind him wasn't turning immediately, but instead continuing to charge straight toward the guardrail.
A little sense of déjà vu rose within Jawed's mind.
And then, his pupils narrowed.
Just before crashing into the wall, the golden machine suddenly sliced violently into the corner, carving through space itself before instantly standing the bike upright again.
A late apex maneuver!
...