Draven was taken aback by the stranger’s rebuttal. Did he just say that the entire Sapphire City Branch of the Red Vipers was a knockoff? The kid was either exceedingly brave or hopelessly stupid. An insult to the Grim Reaper would only serve to quicken his inevitable death. Draven was highly agitated but wanted to maintain composure before his followers. If he wanted to be a big mafia boss in the future, he had to learn to deal with misguided heroes with class. ”Why don’t you take off the hoodie and face me like a real man?” the gangster asked through clenched teeth. “Fair enough.” Tyler smirked and slowly lowered his hoodie, exposing his face. His eyes sparkled, and a soul-piercing gaze shot towards Draven. The latter’s eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized the man before him. “Tyler Grant…” he mumbled in horror. “It cannot be…” The gangster suddenly felt like his throat was dry, and his tongue was parched. He caught his own right hand on instinct. A thick bandage was rolle
The Fremont Grand Prix was being held in Central Sapphire City, a few miles from Sterling Hill. It was an elite, restricted area patrolled by guards. Ordinary people could not gain entry without a ticket. Thousands had gathered to watch the annual intra-state motorbike racing event. Many factions, primarily billionaires, celebrities, and even mafia proxy groups, were known to participate through proxies. The prize money was fifty million dollars. It was a considerable sum indeed; hence, racers could become millionaires overnight. However, their masters had other intentions of taking part. There was a secret to the entire charade. An unwritten agreement existed in elite circles that whoever won the moto racing event could nominate the councilor of Central Sapphire City. The latter was the business center of the flourishing Petra County. The councillor who controlled the local government could favor a multinational and help it make huge profits. In fact, in certain ways, he was more
Tyler shut down Athena's Insight and leaned on the shower wall behind him. The pallid corpse of the celebrity Gina Perry lay before him, her face twisted in pain and horror.In a few minutes, police officers and event staff would burst into the ladies’ locker room. Apparently, they had received an anonymous tip-off that Gina was being held against her will in the shower chambers.After discovering the celebrity's dead body and finding Tyler in the same room, the cops were likely to arrive at one conclusion. That he was Gina Perry's cold-blooded murderer. It would be an open-and-shut case since the criminal was caught red-handed.The young man did not panic at all. A simple solution was to escape out the window. Even though it was the tenth floor, he could easily land on the ground without getting hurt.However, another problem presented itself. Tyler would never find out who actually killed Gina Perry and tried to frame him. Was it Duke Hilton or someone else? Moreover, he had not yet
As Tyler predicted, a search team barged into the ladies' locker room a few minutes later. It comprised three police officers, five event staff members, and a dozen heavyset guards. They spread out, desperately searching for Gina."Miss Perry! Miss Perry! Can you hear us?"When the search team heard the shower running, they rushed to the last stall, morosely expecting to enter a crime scene. Was Gina still alive?However, their sense of urgency and distress was absolutely decimated by the racy sight before them.Gina Perry was in her bathrobe under the running shower. She was making out passionately with a topless, athletic young man. They were all over each other—touching, caressing, groping, with no regard for the onlookers. The scene was something out of a steamy Hollywood movie.The intruders were so shocked that they froze, unable to utter a single word. Even though they were tremendously awkward, they couldn't take their eyes off the attractive c
"Duke Hilton?!" Gina fumed, immediately recognizing the name. "That son of a bitch!" she added, wagging her finger angrily. "Careful, you'll take my eye out," Tyler joked. He was surprised by her reaction. Duke was generally famous because of his family's wealth and reputation. He often appeared on news channels and was a heartthrob for local girls. Gina was widely popular, but she belonged to no royalty. Tyler realized that despite the man's affluent family background, those who knew him personally despised him. Distant hills appear blue and picturesque, but once you come close, they are brown and ugly. "How do you know him?" the young man asked. "What did he do to offend you so much?" Gina crossed her arms angrily. "That stupid jerk has been asking me out for years! He doesn't hesitate to resort to underhanded means to meet me! Once, he pretended to be a movie producer to lure me into a hotel room!" "I keep turning him down, but Duke keeps coming back like a lost puppy!" Tyler
The crowd went wild. "Is he a Trillionaire? Or another pop star?" "It appears the new boyfriend is a participant in the race!" "There are no brands advertised on his jacket. Is he an ordinary guy…?" "No way! Gina's boyfriend can't be a commoner! Maybe he wants to keep his identity secret…?" As more reporters hounded the couple, Tyler turned to Gina. "I'll see you later after the race. But don't worry; I'll be with you instantly if someone tries to harm you." The beauty looked up to his tall frame and nodded. But she was perplexed about his words. How could he possibly evade the wild herd of reporters and fans? With so many cameras and eyes on him, escape was impossible. Ultimately, Tyler would have to remove the helmet and reveal his face. His secret identity being public was inevitable. "Take off your helmet!" The reporters chanted in unison. "Tell us who you are!" "Let us see your face!" Even the audience held up their phone cameras to record him. Tyler smirked from within
The stewards gave the go-ahead for the MotoGP circuit to commence. Motorcycles queued up at the starting line, and the candidates were fully dressed in racing gear. Their uniforms brandished expensive sponsor brands, while their super-vehicles looked like futuristic machines. Only Tyler's bike and his appearance stood out as ordinary. Many onlookers began mocking him. "Who invited this straggler?" "Have the organizers lost their minds?" "This is a shame on the Fremont Grand Prix!" "It seems the guy borrowed his sports bike and bought his gear from the pawnshop!" The crowd snickered and ridiculed the amateur while heaping praises on the veteran racers. "Max Powers' vehicle looks like advanced alien technology! He is sure to win again this year!" "Did you know Derek Sentinel himself is a candidate representing the royal family of Petra? I'm too excited!" "The Andersons, Coopers, and Carlisles have pretty competitive racers, too. It's going to be a great circuit!" "I'm also hype
Tyler's sudden acceleration and catching up momentarily shocked the audience. This would typically cause a furor, with fans complaining about malpractice and a possible nitrous boost. How could a low-performance motorcycle go faster than custom-designed, super-engine-powered vehicles? However, the attention suddenly shifted to the crash site. The three leading racers from the Anderson, Cooper, and Carlisle factions suddenly lost all control simultaneously. They crashed into the sideline barricades. Luckily, the men survived with minor injuries. However, the impacts and the resulting fires utterly destroyed their vehicles. Fans raged about possible sabotage, but the remaining racers were on the last lap. Any further investigation would only take place after the race. "Wait, that Ducati DesertX already caught up to the two leaders!" an audience member called out. "How is that even possible? His vehicle is not meant for racing!" Tyler was back in the race. He picked up speed and foll