Are You Fujiwara Takumi

After a brief adjustment, the four of them signaled to Liu Bo that they were ready to go.

Su Yang had joked earlier about giving Pan Ning a car-length head start, but even if he really did, he could still win easily. However, that would feel too dismissive of Pan Ning, and he might end up getting an earful from her.

He decided against it in the end.

Liu Bo, seeing that the four were prepared, pulled out a professional stopwatch from somewhere.

He walked to the front of the cars and addressed them, "Final round, five laps on the track."

The professional circuit at Haicheng International Racing Track was 5,340 meters long. An F1 driver could complete a lap in as little as 1 minute and 25 seconds, but aside from Su Yang, the others were just amateurs.

Normally, it would take an average racing enthusiast about 1 minute and 50 seconds to 2 minutes to complete a lap in a sports car.

Five laps would take roughly ten minutes.

And that was only achievable for those fairly familiar with racing.

Though Su Yang had the skills of a professional driver, he wasn’t familiar with this particular track. On the other hand, Meng Wenzhou, Pan Ning, and Zhang Ziming had driven it a few times before, giving them a seemingly greater advantage.

Once Liu Bo saw that they were ready, he shouted, "Alright, let’s begin! Three... two... one!!!"

As soon as the countdown ended, the four cars shot forward.

Su Yang was determined to test his professional driving skills. He had the fastest start again, but Pan Ning overtook him shortly after.

This time, he wasn’t in a hurry. With a 5-kilometer, five-lap race ahead, he had plenty of opportunities to reclaim the lead.

After the straight came a sharp right turn. As Pan Ning approached the curve, she had no choice but to slow down.

Su Yang’s eyes lit up as all kinds of driving techniques flashed through his mind. Seizing the moment, he slammed the accelerator and surged past Pan Ning.

Pan Ning was stunned. "Is this guy insane?"

She honked frantically, warning Su Yang to slow down—at his current speed, he’d flip over mid-turn.

But Su Yang wasn’t concerned. Right now, he felt like Michael Schumacher himself. Just before entering the curve, he eased off the gas, stomped the brake with his right foot, and yanked the steering wheel hard.

The Turbos executed a flawless, stylish drift, gliding effortlessly around the bend.

The move left Pan Ning gaping in disbelief.

Zhang Ziming and Meng Wenzhou were even more shocked. Watching the Turbos pull off a professional-grade drift ahead of them, their jaws dropped.

Zhang Ziming couldn’t help but yell inside his car, "Holy crap! Is this guy a pro?"

Before he could process it further, Pan Ning had already cleared the first turn.

Meng Wenzhou and Zhang Ziming, neck and neck, braked and took the turn one after the other.

Thanks to his performance on the first curve, Su Yang had already widened the gap between himself and the others.

Even though he’d never driven this track before, his professional driving skills compensated heavily for his lack of familiarity.

Soon, the first lap was complete. Liu Bo, standing at the starting line, pressed the stopwatch and checked the time.

His brows furrowed. "1 minute... 33 seconds?!"

"No way, is this thing broken?"

Liu Bo was no stranger to racing—he often watched various motorsport events in his free time.

Haicheng International Racing Track had hosted two F1 Grand Prix races, and he clearly remembered the fastest lap record: 1 minute and 25 seconds.

But that was achieved by a world-class driver in a multi-million-dollar F1 car.

Su Yang, on his very first lap at this track, clocked an astonishing 1 minute and 33 seconds. It was downright terrifying.

He swallowed hard, utterly speechless.

Soon after, Pan Ning completed her first lap in the red Ferrari. Liu Bo checked his stopwatch: 1 minute and 53 seconds.

"The timer’s not broken."

Su Yang, oblivious to their reactions, had already memorized every turn after just one lap.

By the second lap, he was even more in control. On a long straightaway, he pushed the speedometer to 300.

But the velocity was too much—he had to brake hard as soon as he hit 300 to navigate the next bend.

Every corner was taken with a drift, which took a heavy toll on the tires. A few more laps like this, and he’d need a fresh set.

Yet, none of that mattered now. He was completely absorbed in the thrill of racing.

[Ding! Detected host’s deep enjoyment and enlightenment during racing. Reward: 3 million yuan and a McLaren Senna fragment (3/5).]

Su Yang ignored the system’s prompt, his focus locked on the track ahead.

Behind him, only Pan Ning could barely keep his taillights in sight. Meng Wenzhou and Zhang Ziming had already given up, parking their cars after the first lap to watch Su Yang and Pan Ning’s performance.

Su Yang finished his second lap swiftly. Liu Bo pressed the stopwatch again—this time, the result was even more jaw-dropping: 1 minute and 29 seconds.

Zhang Ziming grabbed the timer and stared. "Holy hell, this guy’s gotta be a pro. How are we supposed to compete with that?"

Meng Wenzhou simply chuckled without a word, his gaze fixed on the track, lost in thought.

Time ticked by, and the fourth lap ended in a flash.

By the time Su Yang started his fifth lap, Pan Ning had just finished her third—a full lap behind. That was the gap between an amateur and a professional.

Pan Ning didn’t even bother struggling anymore. She knew she couldn’t match Su Yang on the track.

This time, she conceded defeat wholeheartedly. The disparity was just too vast—no amount of training could bridge it.

She accepted that no matter how hard she practiced, she’d never outpace Su Yang. After her third lap, she steered her car to the side and parked.

Su Yang soon crossed the finish line on his final lap.

Liu Bo hit the stopwatch the moment Su Yang passed. The total time displayed: 6 minutes and 51 seconds.

The others looked at Su Yang as if he were some kind of monster.

Su Yang pulled up beside their cars and grinned. "What’s the deal? Why’d you all quit halfway?"

Zhang Ziming shot him a resentful glare. "You really have to ask? We’re not even in the same league. You’re drifting through every corner like you’re freaking Takumi Fujiwara or something."

Su Yang laughed, basking in the praise. "Ah, you caught me. My bad, my bad. Heh."

"Brother Su, you never cease to amaze me," Meng Wenzhou chimed in with a smile. "With skills like that, you could go pro."

Su Yang waved it off. "Nah, not for me. Competitions are too exhausting."

Pan Ning glanced at him coolly. "Fine, you beat me on the track. But I won on the straightaway. Call it a draw."

"Deal. A draw it is."

"Alright, now that the race is over, let’s head out," Meng Wenzhou suggested, checking his phone. "It’s about time for dinner, then we’re off to Deer City."

Su Yang nodded. "Sounds good. Where are we eating? Drop the location in the group chat."

"Okay."

Meng Wenzhou sent the restaurant location to the group chat, and the group started their cars one after another.

As the five luxury cars entered the city center, they immediately caused quite a stir. Nearly every passing vehicle couldn’t help but glance their way.

Though high-end sports cars and luxury vehicles were a common sight in Haicheng, it was still rare to see five of them traveling together.

Pedestrians on the street quickly pulled out their phones to snap photos.

Soon, the six arrived at an upscale restaurant specializing in Haicheng’s local cuisine.

After parking, the restaurant owner hurried out to greet them.

His face lit up with excitement as he approached Meng Wenzhou, speaking with a hint of deference, "Young Master Meng, you’ve arrived! The private room is ready for you."

Meng Wenzhou gave a slight nod. "Much appreciated. You can start serving the dishes now—we have a flight to catch after this."

"Of course, of course! Right this way, everyone!" The owner ushered them inside with utmost hospitality.