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
Tyler smirked thinly. "I was about to come looking for you. But it is good that you came to me directly. It saved me the trouble."Max Powers gritted his teeth and spat on the floor. "Tyler Grant…" he said, mouthing the words with disgust. "It is the first time I lost the Fremont Grand Prix. I had always been the undisputed champion. You did something funny with your bike to make it run faster. You cheater!"Tyler shrugged nonchalantly and teased him. "Why can't you accept I am a better racer than you?"A vein throbbed on Max's forehead. "Bullshit! Your DesertX was moving at unnatural speeds, way beyond the Ducati company's maximum threshold! Clearly, you have some supernatural help!"Tyler raised an eyebrow. "I see. So, my suspicions were not wrong. You dabble in the dark mystical arts."The villain spat again with disdain. "Commoners like you shouldn't dare to talk about the elite martial and mystical arts. It belongs to special people like me! Just tell me who helped you, and then
Duke Hilton filled a glass of scotch jovially and handed it to Max. "Well done, buddy! I expected nothing less of you! You really lived up to your reputation!" The others at the party raised their glasses to the assassin. However, Max nodded disinterestedly and had a severe expression plastered on his face. With Tyler's death, the man's chance to find Chet Barker's opponent was lost. His master had placed a self-implosion curse on Chet's heart to be triggered in case his identity was about to be revealed. Max was supposed to interrogate Tyler since he witnessed the fight during the royal Douglas banquet. At this juncture, only Malcolm and Dwayne remained witnesses but were not as easily accessible. Max's master was likely to punish him severely for the failure. "Why are you lost in thought, buddy?" Duke asked, offering him a seat in the group. "Uh… I lost the race… That's why," came the awkward reply. "Nonsense! Since Tyler Grant is no more, and you came second in the race, you w