I Must Be Dreaming

Ahead, seeing the Tyrannosaurus pickup roaring closer and closer, the McLaren suddenly initiated a new round of acceleration.

Its speed surged from around 260 km/h, rapidly climbing to 300, and it was still rising!

Seeing this, Gavin floored the accelerator while roaring at Eugene.

"Fuck it, his car is faster! Shoot at him, keep him suppressed!"

"I know, damn it! I should've brought a rifle!"

Eugene cursed in response, aiming his loaded Colt Python ahead and firing blindly.

At a distance of over two hundred meters, the pistol's accuracy was poor; six rounds later, he hadn't even grazed the McLaren.

Gavin gritted his teeth and glanced at the speedometer; the Tyrannosaurus had reached 300 km/h.

Even with Madison's modifications, the Tyrannosaurus could likely only hit 310 km/h at most.

And the McLaren...

If Gavin remembered correctly, the McLaren could hit at least 340 or 350 km/h!

The facts proved him right; as the McLaren accelerated further, the narrowing gap between the two vehicles stalled.

Immediately after, the distance between them began to widen!

The distance Gavin had struggled to close to 210 meters stretched back to 230 meters in just two seconds.

"Fuck!"

Gavin cursed viciously, then glanced at Eugene, who was reloading, and shouted.

"Give me the gun!"

"Are you sure? Shit! Then drive carefully!"

Eugene handed the reloaded Colt Python to Gavin. Gavin gripped the steering wheel with one hand and immediately raised the gun to aim at the McLaren.

Seeing this, Eugene quickly made a Hallelujah gesture over his chest before continuing to reload the pistol and shotgun.

Eugene couldn't help but be afraid; after all, when a car's speed soared past 300, even a small pebble on the road could cause it to skid and flip!

And Gavin... he was betting on exactly that!

Gavin took a brief aim.

Bang!

He missed, but it didn't matter; Gavin continued to fire at a steady rate of one shot per second to maintain suppression.

While firing, he shouted at Eugene.

"Keep shooting at him! I want to see how long he can keep driving like a maniac!"

"Shit, Boss, don't do this, I'm fucking scared!"

Hearing Gavin, Eugene swallowed hard, reloading while continuing to speak.

"I think I have to advise you—sometimes we don't need to be so aggressive. I'm actually not even mad anymore. Being alive is better than anything, really!"

"Alive? Bullshit! I almost died! Just by a hair!"

Gavin responded irritably, firing his sixth shot until the Colt Python's cylinder was empty again.

He immediately tossed the Python into Eugene's lap, reached over, snatched Eugene's revolver, and kept firing.

The way he snatched the gun nearly scared the piss out of Eugene.

"Don't... keep your hands on the wheel, I'm begging you! I'll shoot, I'll kill the son of a bitch right now!"

Eugene desperately tried to restrain Gavin while raising his shotgun to fire.

At the same time, Gavin kept pulling the trigger on Eugene's revolver.

Bang!

Crash!

It was unclear whose bullet had done the job, but nearly 270 meters away, the McLaren's rear window shattered.

"Nice shot, keep going!"

Gavin roared, continuing to fire, while Eugene held the shotgun with a panicked expression, watching the McLaren ahead.

"Shit, stop risking our lives! It's skidding, it's skidding!"

To Eugene's surprise, after the rear window shattered, the McLaren's tail swerved violently.

The McLaren lost its balance, beginning to sway left and right across the road like a snake.

Gavin stared intently at the McLaren, seizing the opportunity to close the distance.

Yet, five full seconds passed, and the McLaren still hadn't flipped.

Fortunately, although the McLaren hadn't crashed, its speed inevitably dropped, and the distance to the Tyrannosaurus shrank to about 140 meters.

In the passenger seat, Eugene loaded the lever-action shotgun, quickly raised it, and fired two more shots at the McLaren.

Once the distance closed to within 150 meters, the shotgun's power finally came into play.

Two shots rang out, and the McLaren's left rear tire burst with a deafening bang. Immediately, the car began to spin wildly like a top, even bouncing a couple of times in the process.

"Fuck!"

Watching the McLaren transform into a spinning top, Eugene let out an excited roar.

"You can slow down now, Boss!"

Hearing Eugene's words, Gavin let out a breath and cast an amused glance at him.

Scare you once and you're already calling me Boss?

Shaking off the internal mockery, Gavin controlled the Tyrannosaurus to gradually decelerate.

When the Tyrannosaurus's speed dropped to around 140 kilometers per hour, the crazily spinning McLaren finally slammed into the guardrail on the side of the road.

The McLaren then scraped along the guardrail, sparks flying and lightning-like flashes erupting from the friction, until it gradually came to a halt on the shoulder.

At this point, Gavin stepped on the brake, bringing the Tyrannosaurus to a stop about twenty-five meters away from the McLaren.

After parking, he quickly jumped out of the vehicle and ducked behind the hood of the Tyrannosaurus to reload his Colt Python.

At the same time, he shouted toward the McLaren.

"Is the person in the car still alive!"

"He's still alive, the son of a bitch! I see him still moving—he's practically a god of war!"

Eugene exited the vehicle to answer Gavin's question, taking the opportunity to open his own car door to use as cover.

The two of them hid there for six or seven seconds, but no response came.

Seeing this, Eugene shouted to Gavin.

"You keep your eyes on him, I'm going to take a look!"

"Go ahead."

Gavin waved a hand at Eugene, then aimed his fully loaded Colt Python at the McLaren's driver's seat.

At this moment, the man in the suit in the driver's seat was clutching a SCAR rifle, gasping for air.

Eugene approached with his gun drawn, observing the scene before growling, "He's still alive, but it doesn't look like he'll last long. Let me check on that woman!"

As he spoke, Eugene reached the front of the McLaren and circled around to the passenger side to take a peek.

Meanwhile, Gavin stepped out from behind his vehicle and walked toward the McLaren with his gun in hand.

The McLaren's body had been torn and deformed, but the frame had held up reasonably well.

The driver, still clutching his rifle, was covered in blood and spitting it out; he had likely broken several ribs, and his lungs had probably been punctured by bone shards.

Gavin shook his head, reached out to pull open the McLaren's door, pushed aside the airbag, and leaned in to grab the SCAR from the driver's arms.

After securing the rifle, Gavin holstered his Python and dragged the driver out of the seat by the weapon.

At the same time, Eugene tugged at the passenger door, cursing, "Shit, the passenger side took a worse hit, the door won't even open!"

With that, Eugene used his shotgun to clear away the remaining shards of glass from the window and dragged the woman in the red dress out through the opening.

"Woo-hoo, what a damn shame!"

After finally dragging the woman out, Eugene clicked his tongue in regret and called out to Gavin from a distance.

"I was hoping for some Hollywood-style heroics, but this chick's spine is snapped. She's a goner."

Saying this, Eugene curiously lifted the woman's dress to take a look.

"Aha, Boss, this chick isn't wearing any panties!"

"You goddamn..."

Hearing Eugene's words, Gavin, who was busy rummaging through the driver's pockets for magazines, cursed with annoyance.

Unfazed, Eugene retorted, "What's your problem? I didn't even take advantage of her while she was still warm—isn't that considerate enough!"

"Besides, this chick is gorgeous. You sure you don't want to come take a look, Boss?"

After saying this, Eugene shook his head regretfully and gently patted the woman in the red dress on the cheek.

"Hey."

He asked the woman, who was still blinking weakly, "Can you still hear me? If you can, then I'm sorry. I can't save you, I can only end your suffering a little sooner."

With that, Eugene let go of the woman and aimed his shotgun at her heart.

Meanwhile, Gavin fished out three magazines and shoved them into his pockets.

He then walked over to the woman and assessed her condition.

One look was all it took for Gavin to confirm that she was beyond saving; she was clearly lying on the ground, but her hips were twisted toward the sky.

In short, her waist had been twisted a full circle...

Seeing this, Gavin waved his hand.

"Send her off."