The night was a riot of color! Streams of headlights flowed between glittering skyscrapers!
As the screech of tires intertwined with the roar of engines, everyone saw the black Bugatti ahead drift sideways again, its door flung open!
At two hundred kilometers per hour, violent jolting, Meng Lang's brawny screams, and savage airflow blended into a wildly spinning drift-view perspective. In the brief instant Fang Ran lingered facing backward,
he raised the Railgun straight up, golden brilliance igniting in the fervent right eye beneath his black gaze!
Having learned everything about the weapon—its power, range, and operation—he brazenly fired at a McLaren behind them!
The projectile accelerated, becoming a bright orange streak that shot straight from the ring-shaped rail!
As the McLaren swerved to evade, the attack inexplicably changed direction. A black circular surface expanded before its shield, and this time, the two aligned perfectly.
The Railgun's shot punched straight through the windshield, forcing that B-rank participant to use his final defense!
Guaranteed hit! Armor penetration!
That troublesome combination of abilities startled everyone. Meanwhile, after firing during the drift, the black Bugatti—
with the momentum of a car crash that felt like being hit by a high-speed train—howled as it swung into the intersection!
It was a technique learned and used on the spot. Drifting at over two hundred kilometers per hour—avoiding another rollover alone was a miracle. There was no way they could actually make the turn!
"Building! Building!! Building!!!"
He could no longer care what was happening behind them. He felt far more likely to die from what was ahead.
Meng Lang looked at the office building on the street corner ahead through the raging wind and screamed in panic. Feeling himself being lifted even farther forward by this bastard, Michael could only roar in terrified backward-leaning horror: