Magic City's Tianma Race Track.
As one of the earliest international-standard tracks in eastern China, the place was filled year-round with the scent of high-octane gasoline burning and the scorched smell of tires scraping against the ground. To Magic City's supercar crowd, it was an arena for flaunting wealth and skill, as well as a holy ground for venting hormones.
At ten in the morning, although the winter sun was not particularly fierce, the atmosphere on the track had already reached a boiling point.
"Vroom—ROAR, ROAR, ROAR!"
A volcano-orange McLaren 765LT was parked outside a pit garage, blue flames shooting from its exhaust pipes. The savage roar of its V8 engine was like a beast's howl, prompting many onlookers nearby to raise their phones and take pictures.
The door swung upward. Wearing sunglasses and a professional racing suit, Sun Zhihao leaned against the door with a helmet in hand, looking utterly arrogant.
"Brother Hao, this car is too cool! You're definitely going to set the fastest lap of the day, right?"
Several second-generation rich kids driving Porsche 911s and M4s gathered around him, lavishing him with praise.
"Of course."
Sun Zhihao took off his sunglasses, a flash of pride in his eyes. "This is a 765LT, McLaren's Longtail series. It was born for the track. I specifically had the technician adjust the camber last night and put on brand-new semi-slicks. If I don't get under one minute ten seconds today, I'll push this car straight into the sea."
At the mention of last night, Sun Zhihao's face darkened slightly.
Yesterday at the Deep Blue Diving Club, that pretty-boy named Su Bai had thoroughly humiliated him. That terrifying eight-minute-twenty-second breath-hold had turned him into the joke of someone whose gear was better than his skills.
He had not slept well all