In a Rookie's Eyes, You're Already an Old Driver

The battle between top assassins was extremely dangerous, especially for Cross and Fire Fox. They possessed Bullet Time and could deliver fatal strikes from all kinds of bizarre angles at any moment.

Both of them understood this. Fire Fox was the one being pursued, and being unable to shake Cross off put her at a severe disadvantage, making it difficult even to fight back. Cross did not need to drive personally, but his son was in the other side's hands, so he could not act without restraint.

Seeing the box truck drawing closer in the rearview mirror, Fire Fox steeled herself and jerked the steering wheel. The Dodge Viper shot from the fast lane into oncoming traffic, driving against the flow.

Fire Fox constantly swerved to dodge the cars rushing toward her head-on. Wesley was terrified. The glaring headlights left him dizzy, and his ears were filled with piercing horns. He experienced a thrill unlike anything he had felt in the first half of his life.

It was a high-speed race with death. One wrong move meant the car wrecking and everyone dying.

Meanwhile, the box truck followed close behind, repeatedly pulling off dazzling maneuvers in the oncoming lane and perfectly avoiding the speeding vehicles. Russell swayed to the pounding music, muttering out the beat. BABY's godlike driving skills left him utterly at ease. With his hands on the wheel, he felt capable of anything, as though he possessed the entire world.

Cross had an exceptionally strong mental fortitude. Realizing Russell was a superb driver, he immediately raised his gun and fired at the supercar. He quickly hit its rear tire, slowing it down.

"Oh my God! He's catching up! We're done for!" Wesley screamed, sounding like someone who had been knocked out from behind while picking up soap and surrounded by a dozen burly Black men.

"Quiet!"

Under Wesley's confused gaze, she shot out the windshield, handed the steering wheel to Wesley, then flipped herself out of the car.

Holding a gun in each hand, Fire Fox hooked one foot around the steering wheel and the other around the window frame. With her back against the hood, she launched a counterattack against the box truck behind them.

Fire Fox's favorite weapon was a modified Browning M1911. Its body bore an orchid tattoo and a lion totem, with ivory-colored grips, a muzzle device, and an extended magazine. Its 11.5mm rounds were tremendously powerful, surpassing even most submachine guns. Even a non-vital hit could be fatal.

Fire Fox's M1911 combined violence with beauty. It was one of the most perfect handguns ever made.

She held a submachine gun in her other hand. Both guns fired in rapid succession, instantly suppressing Cross with sheer firepower.

"Shut up and focus on driving!"

"I've been driving this whole time!"

Cross raised his gun and returned fire. Russell stopped joking around as well. Whenever he felt danger closing in, he turned the wheel to evade it. The box truck moved like a swift serpent, winding and twisting without losing any speed as it drew ever closer to the Dodge Viper.

Just as they were about to catch the red supercar, a smile appeared on Cross's face. The Brotherhood wanted to take his son away? Not a chance. But at that moment, urgent sirens sounded from both sides. Cross swept his gaze around and saw more than ten police cars closing in on them.

Although those police cars were soon left far behind, able only to breathe Russell's exhaust, Cross knew very well that a roadblock had to be waiting ahead. There might even be armored riot-control vehicles.

"Damn it, the cops are efficient tonight. They were never this fast before!" Cross said with an unhappy expression.

Russell rolled his eyes. As a former cop, he did not feel like speaking.

In the red supercar ahead, Fire Fox gave up returning fire due to her lack of ammunition. She flipped back into the driver's seat, shoved aside the upright-looking Wesley, and steered the supercar into the proper lane, intending to slip through amid the police cars.

Russell followed into the proper lane. As he turned, he skillfully shifted gears and drifted closer bit by bit. This was already within Cross's One Hundred Percent Accuracy range, but a police helicopter had appeared in the sky at some point, its searchlight shining directly onto the box truck.

Russell frowned. "Something's not right. If I'm not mistaken, the police seem to be targeting us!?"

Without even looking up, Cross replied, "It has to be Sloan. He's connected with the politicians. He has people in the police department."

"What do we do? Keep chasing?"

Cross's expression remained blank. "Chase!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three bullets flew out in rapid succession. Time seemed to slow as the specially made threaded bullets arced through the air, precisely taking out the remaining three tires.

The tires suffered a devastating hit, coming loose and flying away. The red supercar was left with only its metal rims, yet it still raced forward stubbornly, though much more slowly.

Russell stomped the accelerator to the floor. No, it was already floored. The box truck slammed into the rear of the Dodge Viper and pushed it forward.

Bang! Bang!

Fire Fox spun around and fired two shots. Russell ducked to avoid them, slowing the box truck and backing off again.

Russell complained, "What are you doing? Cover me!"

Cross unwillingly glanced at the red supercar. "There's a sniper nearby, a Brotherhood assassin. We're leaving!"

Hearing that, Russell immediately hunched down. He did not ask where the sniper was. Cross was the professional in that area; it was not Russell's place to question him.

In the distance, Russell saw a line of police cars forming a barricade, with two black armored riot-control vehicles stationed behind them like enormous beasts. He knew they would not get Wesley back tonight. Even if they did, their weapons and equipment were insufficient for a successful escape. Not to mention the helicopter overhead; a few flashbangs would be enough to make things miserable for them.

Russell sharply turned the wheel. The box truck swung its tail into a sideways drift, entered the adjacent oncoming lane, and then turned its front around before shooting away.

Watching Cross give up in the rearview mirror, Fire Fox could not help letting out a sigh of relief and stepped on the brake.

The Dodge Viper's braking system... sucked. No one had ever successfully performed an emergency stop while driving this car at high speed, so the red supercar ultimately crashed into the police car blocking its path. As for the two rows of tire spikes set up by the police, the red supercar, which had only metal rims left, did not care whether they were there or not.

Four police officers in SWAT gear rushed forward. Two aimed their guns at Fire Fox and Wesley, while the other two escorted them into an armored riot-control vehicle. Fire Fox cooperated throughout, and the SWAT officers did not give her any trouble. Wesley, on the other hand, had his arms twisted behind his back and was handcuffed.

Inside the armored vehicle, Fire Fox took back her M1911 from a lean Black SWAT officer. She sighed and leaned against her seat. Tonight's experience had not been pleasant.

The Black SWAT officer was Gunsmith, a core member of the Brotherhood. Ignoring Wesley's ghostly expression, he asked directly, "Fire Fox, you almost failed. What happened?"

Unable to bear recalling it, Fire Fox held her forehead and said, "Cross found an incredible driver from somewhere. I've never seen such insane driving skills..."

"Fine. Report this to Sloan yourself. We'll take Wesley back first."

Meanwhile, Russell drove the box truck away from the police cars behind them, but the helicopter in the sky followed like a shadow. He drove into the downtown area, stopped, and slipped into the crowd with Cross. They quickly disappeared.

The two took a taxi to circle around. At a secluded garage, Cross dug out a sedan, and Russell drove them back to the factory.

This time, Russell drove much more slowly. The effects of the 'Character Card: BABY' had expired. Unless he drew it again, it would be difficult to race through oncoming traffic like that again.

But it did not matter. A god-tier driver like BABY only needed to leave behind a little experience for Russell to pass himself off as an Old Driver.

Ding! The Host has obtained the skill: Vehicle Driving Mastery!

This is not a one-time skill, but a permanent one.

Skill: Vehicle Driving Mastery (There is still some distance between you and a master or driving god, but in a rookie's eyes, you are already an unattainable Old Driver.)

Failure Diary

The reason I do not work hard to update is because I know that becoming a failure without working hard hurts much less than still becoming a failure after working hard.

This failure begs for support. Any kind of vote will do!