"What the hell? Did someone die up here on the mountain?" Zack Li was full of question marks, and the other thugs looked just as lost. Even Seven Wang, who was hiding in the dark with a shotgun and ready to fire, froze in shock.
The funeral hearse’s dirge was blasting so loud that echoes bounced around the empty mountain valley, making everyone’s hair stand on end. Autumn Ridge Pass was notorious for deadly crashes, and a few of the more timid guys looked absolutely pale.
Getting closer and closer, the funeral hearse actually pulled up right next to Zack Li and his crew, screeching to a stop.
Out of the car hopped a guy wearing a baseball cap, looking pretty damn cool.
"Zack Li, and the rest of you—did I scare you guys?" The speaker was none other than Ryan Ling.
In an instant, Zack Li’s face turned red with anger, while the others visibly breathed a sigh of relief—then immediately shot Ryan a bunch of pissed-off looks.
Obviously, even if they pretended otherwise, all of them had been seriously freaked out.
Meanwhile, Seven Wang was stunned too, wondering what kind of stunt Ryan Ling was pulling. Who the hell brings a funeral hearse to a street race at night? With its tractor-like engine, it was nothing compared to the heavily modified race cars Zack and his guys drove—this was basically the tortoise versus the hare.
"Kid, what the hell are you playing at? Where’d you even get that junk car? Are you here to race me, or do you just want us to drive you straight to the crematorium?" Zack Li immediately started cussing him out.
"Sorry, man, I’m broke. I don’t have fancy wheels like you guys. I just started working as a hearse driver at the funeral home, and this is the only ride I’ve got—so here it is!" Ryan Ling said honestly.
"Hahaha, dude, you’re killing me! A funeral home hearse driver bringing his hearse to a street race—honestly, that’s a hundred points for creativity!" One of the thugs couldn’t help but crack up, and as soon as he laughed, the whole crowd joined in, mocking Ryan.
Zack Li couldn’t help but shake his head. Clearly, in their eyes, Ryan Ling was just a complete street-racing idiot.
"Alright, enough chit-chat—let’s get started!" Ryan Ling didn’t have time to waste on their nonsense, so he called out to begin.
"Fine, let’s start. But don’t forget the wager!" Zack Li sneered, like those two hundred grand were already in his pocket.
"Don’t worry, I’m not forgetting. Let’s see who’s got the guts!" Ryan Ling said, heading for his car.
"Oh, you’re pretty confident, huh?" Zack Li said, then his eyes landed on a nearby pet husky. A nasty idea flashed through his mind: "Kid, since you’re so cocky, how about we raise the stakes and make things even spicier?"
"What kind of stakes?" Ryan Ling kept his cool—he actually preferred raising the wager in this situation.
"Dumb Qiang, grab that pile of dog crap the husky just dropped. Let’s play a little game with our hearse god here!" As soon as Zack finished, a buck-toothed thug got the idea, and in seconds he was holding a steaming pile of dog shit.
"What’s your game?" Ryan Ling frowned—Zack Li was even nastier than he’d thought.
"Simple. Whoever loses tonight not only coughs up the 200K, but also gets a free late-night snack—this dog crap right here. So? You dare?" Zack Li grinned even more slyly. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time he’d pulled a stunt like this.
In the shadows, Seven Wang gripped his shotgun tight. Hearing Zack Li bully Ryan like that made Seven want to end the bastard with a single shot.
But right then, Ryan Ling didn’t hesitate at all: “Alright, I’m in!”
“Now that’s what I call guts!” Zack Li burst out laughing, more convinced than ever that Ryan was a total idiot. This game was going to be a riot.
"Fengzi, what’s up with this kid? Did he finally snap a wire or something?" Even Seven Wang was baffled. In his experience, Ryan was always sharp—so what was going on tonight?
While he was still in shock, the weird showdown between luxury sports cars and a rundown funeral hearse finally began.
Bang! The starting pistol cracked, and Zack Li’s sports car shot out like a cannonball, hitting 150 miles per hour in seconds.
“No wonder Zack’s the king of street racing in Harbor City. With speed like that, who can compete?” A few of his thug sidekicks immediately started cheering.
But Ryan Ling didn’t rush at all—he even lit a cigarette, looking like he didn’t give a damn about Zack Li.
“Damn, this kid can really put on a show. He’ll be crying soon enough!”
“Let him act tough. Soon I’ll personally shove that dog crap down his throat!”
"Trying to show off with us? He’s basically asking for it!"
......
All the thugs watching Ryan Ling were instantly grinding their teeth in frustration.
Even Seven Wang was finding Ryan harder and harder to read.
But right then, Ryan Ling floored it. The specially modified hearse shot out like a ghost, so fast it was almost impossible to follow with the naked eye.
"No way—how is that even possible?" The thugs were instantly dumbfounded.
Seven Wang’s jaw just about hit the floor. Was Ryan Ling secretly some racing genius living right under his nose?
Far ahead, Zack Li was racing so hard he started humming a dirty tune, convinced he’d already left Ryan Ling in the dust. In just a few more minutes, the championship would be his for sure.
But just as he was about to start celebrating, that so-called junk hearse suddenly shot out from behind, leaving him eating its dust.
Zack Li was stunned, taking a full three seconds to process what had just happened.
Suddenly, he floored the gas, desperate to catch up. His ride was the best sports car in all of Harbor City—custom-modded in Europe, with an engine and gear setup that was practically F1-level.
And Ryan Ling’s hearse? Total junk—some clunky domestic model from the nineties, usually maxing out at eighty miles an hour. But tonight, even when Zack Li’s car hit two hundred, he still couldn’t catch up.
(This chapter isn’t over yet ^.^ Click next page to keep reading!)
It was like the hearse had really turned into a ghost, tearing out of Hell itself.
"Monkey, get a good look—what the hell is going on?" Zack Li finally panicked, yelling into the walkie-talkie.
On the other end, a tall, skinny guy had already launched a drone. He swallowed hard and said, "Zack, we’re seriously seeing ghosts tonight. That junker of his is about to take off—it’s already pushing 250 miles an hour! Holy crap!"
"Bullshit, that’s impossible. I don’t buy this ghost crap—we just underestimated him. I bet his car’s secretly modded, and he’s probably a pro racer. Otherwise, why would he stick his neck out for Seven Wang?" Zack Li gritted his teeth, refusing to admit defeat. He was a master of dirty tricks—so, in a flash, he jerked the wheel and shot down a side road.
Zack had driven Autumn Ridge Pass a hundred times—he knew every inch of it. The shortcut was rough, but it could save most of the distance. Gritting his teeth, Zack gunned it down the path.
Soon, thanks to cheating, his car started catching up to Ryan Ling. Near the finish line, with just a kilometer left, Zack finally pulled ahead, bursting out of the shortcut and gunning for victory.
"You’re the man, Zack!"
"Zack’s a beast!"
"Zack’s number one!"
......
A bunch of street-racing thugs watched the drone feed and started shouting.
Right then, Seven Wang’s heart clenched. He knew for sure Zack Li was cheating again—last time he’d set traps during their race, and now he was pulling more dirty tricks.
Ryan Ling might be hiding his true skills, but against a shameless opponent like this, he was bound to suffer.
"Damn it, that bastard’s cheating!" Even Ryan Ling realized something was wrong, anxiety rising as his hearse lagged far behind Zack Li.
But just then, the system chimed in: "Bro, relax. I told you I’d help you out this time, and I meant it!"
Right after the system spoke, the hearse’s speakers started blasting a piercing, mournful wail—so sharp it stabbed straight into Zack Li’s ears.
Zack Li froze, instinctively glancing in the rearview mirror. That one look nearly scared his soul out of his body.
Inside Ryan Ling’s spacious hearse, terrifying ghosts suddenly appeared—old and young, men and women, all with guts hanging out and twisted faces. Zack recognized several of them: victims he’d killed in past street-racing ‘accidents’...