In motor combat, every aspect of a vehicle's performance mattered, especially in such an open, monotonous setting.
Anyone who joined this stretch of the race hoping to make it to the end was either an absolute fool or absolutely confident.
Of course, there were also people like Midnight Sudden Death, who thought nothing mattered and were just playing around. They stood in the car firing missiles they couldn't even handle themselves. If they burned to death, so be it.
It was hard to imagine what they had been through before, or how they maintained such a peculiar, rational desire to die.
But they weren't all like that. After seeing the Mackinaw take an anti-tank missile without reacting at all, those who could run completely gave up on fighting in the Badlands. Those who couldn't gritted their teeth:
As long as the others were slower, they could hold out until the next stretch of track!
"What about me? What about me? Open a window for me!"
V hugged the Nekomata Sniper Rifle. Its barrel was braced against the window, blocked by an armor plate, while the stock kept smacking Lier in the face as the vehicle jostled.
"You-" Lier didn't even finish speaking before the stock clipped him again. His head was ringing from the blows. He leaned toward V's ear, annoyed, and took a deep breath-
"I said you can talk directly to Legend. To the car! Don't talk to me! I'm fucking busy!"
This time, Lier practically had his mouth against her ear, finally overcoming the deafening noise of the moving vehicle and bullets striking the armor.
After yelling, Lier used the Octopus Arms to unfasten his seat belt, got out of the vehicle, and headed for the cargo bed-
"Why are you yelling so loud!" V heard a