Chapter 142 Clinching Victory
The rules of the race clearly prohibited any form of contact, like ramming into another car; offenders would be promptly ejected from the competition.
Yet Charlie, in his ruthless quest for victory, had resorted to the unthinkable.
Luann steadied herself, tapped a button inside her car to directly connect to the officials.
"Charlie's breaking the rules."
Her voice clearly flowed out of the referee's microphone, echoing through the stadium.
The referee momentarily stunned, was about to respond when Luann continued, "So, does that mean I can hit him?"
Not just the referee, but the entire grandstand dumbfounded.
What was Luann implying?
If she could just knock Charlie out of the race, wouldn't that eliminate one of her rivals?
Before he could even respond, the audience erupted in unison with cheers.
"Go for it!"
"Do it, hit 'em!"
With a sly smile, Luann Weaver ended the call.
Her eyes were filled with determination, she floored the accelerator, barreling straight toward Charlie's car.
Charlie gritted his teeth, all earlier sympathy for a female competitor gone.
"Luann Weaver, if you think you're gonna hit me, don't expect me to play nice!"
A curve in the road ahead demanded his full attention.
As they rounded the bend, Luann didn't slow down but actually sped up, slamming into him without warning!
Charlie's body jolted violently.
Luann's car tilted precariously, nearly sixty degrees, and wheels lifted off the ground, forcing the bulk of its weight onto Charlie's vehicle.
Accelerating, braking or turning—nothing Charlie did seemed to matter.
"Dammit!"
"What the hell!"
"Luann Weaver!"
"That's cheating!"
Luann sat askew inside her car. That was an action fraught with risk, with a slight miscalculation could have sent her flipping over.
Yet she remained calm, peering out the window at him.
"Double standards?"
A chill seemed to glint in her eyes.
The next moment, Charlie's car was rammed right off the track!
Simultaneously.
A mechanical, dispassionate voice sounded over the loudspeaker.
"Charlie, eliminated."
Charlie stunned and his hands clutching the steering wheel, trembling slightly.
"How can this be..."
"How is this even possible?!"
As the tires thudded back to the ground, Luann Weaver glanced at the remaining five laps and pushed on without pause.
The drone cameras had captured every moment of the scene.
The crowd was death silent, watching with bated breath.
It wasn't until the announcement that they seemed to snap out of it, realizing they were sweating profusely.
A murmur rippled through the air.
Everyone looked up in sync.
Unbeknownst to them, ten more drones had appeared, swooping in around Luann Weaver.
They belatedly realized that this Luann Weaver was indeed the dark horse everyone had to watch...
Thanks to Holly Weiss's strategic and Luann's skillful driving, catching up to Peter North was a breeze.
"Hmm, now this is a worthy adversary."
A rare glint of admiration flashed in the stoic eyes of Peter North.
There was even a touch of anticipation stirring within him.
Everyone was on pins and needles, eagerly anticipating Luann Weaver to pull a Charlie on him. But as the race crawled to the final lap, Luann remained unphased, her pace steady as ever. The live chat was going berserk with speculation.
"What's up with Luann Weaver? Has she no plans to overtake?"
"Settling for second place, perhaps?"
"Guys, don't underestimate the champ, okay? Thinking Luann Weaver can just breeze past is pure fantasy…"
"No shade, but it's true. The champ's been in the game for years—not some run-of-the-mill contender like Charlie."
"Second place is still pretty awesome! That crash earlier nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Ah well, no suspense left. I'm outta here."
Eddy lifted his eyes from his phone, gazing at the big screen where a woman’s face, all serious, her dark eyes exceptionally clear, commanded attention.
"Do you think Luann's thrown in the towel?" he mumbled.
Myron Curtis shook his head.
"No, she's waiting."
"Waiting for what? The last lap's almost up; overtaking now seems like a long shot…"
Myron Curtis let out a faint chuckle, his eyes creasing with a hint of mockery.
"What do you think is the most cruel method a hunter can employ with its prey?"
Eddy shook his head.
Myron Curtis's slender fingers coiled into a gentle fist, his knuckles pleasing to the eye like a fine piece of craftsmanship.
"It’s to catch it, let it go, and then end it."
Eddy was speechless.
And sure enough, at the last bend where Peter North slowed down for the turn, there was a whoosh beside him— and then shock took over as he saw her.
The woman who had released the hair tie from her black hair, now unraveled and dancing wildly in the rushing wind. She shot past the curve at breakneck speed, blitzing toward the finish line.
A second later, Peter North crossed, stunned.
Luann Weaver stepped out of her car, her hair whipped up by the breeze. She stood beside her car with a smile that captivated Peter North - he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat.
That scene painted his dull, monotonous world with a stroke of vibrant color. In that instant, the mentor he revered seemed to manifest perfectly in her.
Holly Weiss quickly rushed over, eyeing her foot with concern.
"Good Lord, how could you push it that hard? Is your foot okay?"
"That foot's been giving you trouble for a while; if it's gotten worse, Myron Curtis is gonna blame me."
Peter North sat quietly in his car, eavesdropping on their exchange. His gaze dropped.
Right... The last time he saw her, she wasn’t even walking smoothly.
Could it have been this easy for her to beat him?
The inner feelings of Peter North became a complex mix of emotions in an instant.
Holly Weiss shot a glare at Peter North that could've ignited a fire, as she steadied Luann Weaver toward the lounge.
A ripple of disbelief surged through the crowd.
"Luann Weaver won?"
"She beat the racing legend, North?"
"No way, she got lucky!"
"As an avid fan who's followed him from international circuits to home turf, I can tell you, North wasn't holding back... His speed on that final curve was championship-grade..."
"You're saying Luann Weaver is better than the racing legend...?"
The crowd collectively swallowed hard, a terrifying thought dawning on them.
"It looks like Luann Weaver never really hit full throttle..."
Watching her tear through that last curve at top speed, everyone got the picture loud and clear.
If Luann had blasted off from the start in perfect form...
She'd have lapped 'Racing God' North several times over.
"I just heard someone say that Luann Weaver entered the race injured."
"Yeah, yeah, heard she twisted her ankle a while back and it still hurts to put pressure on it."
"Holy smokes! No one stop me—I'm an instant fan!"
"My God, how did Myron Curtis manage to marry such a flawless woman?"
