chapter 18 Drag racing ===

At this moment, Corentin opened the car door and sat in the back seat, clapping his hands and saying, "Alright, they definitely won't dare to bother us again in the future."
"Corentin, how did you become so powerful? Have you practiced some martial arts secret techniques?" exclaimed Elara with excitement in her eyes.
Corentin was surprised and said, "You noticed that?"
"Teach me, please," said Elara eagerly.
Corentin shamelessly boasted, "Then I'll teach you a set of martial arts. Once you master it, you'll definitely dominate the martial world for generations to come!"
Hiss! Due to her excitement, Elara accidentally stepped on the brake, causing the whole car to shake violently. Mirela rolled her eyes but couldn't be bothered to expose Corentin's nonsense.
"Teach me now, what kind of martial arts is it?"
Corentin smirked and said, "The Sunflower Scripture!"
Seeing his wicked smile, Elara knew there couldn't be anything good about it. She instantly realized and became furious, her pretty face turning crimson. If she wasn't wearing a seatbelt, she would have immediately rushed to the back seat and fought with Corentin.
"You go to hell!" Elara exclaimed angrily.
The Land Rover Range Rover was speeding on the road. At this moment, Mirela couldn't explain why, but she felt an inexplicable annoyance in her heart. She increasingly felt that Corentin was not as simple as he appeared on the surface, yet he still had the audacity to act like he didn't care anything, which was truly frustrating.
"Corentin," Mirela suddenly spoke in the silent car.
"Hmm?" Corentin responded.
Mirela calmly said, "Starting next Monday, you can go to the logistics department of the company to work."
"Uh," Corentin was slightly taken aback, then he said, "Okay!"
Even though he didn't know what Mirela was up to, being promoted from a security guard to a white-collar worker was a huge opportunity. How could Corentin refuse?
In Mirela's villa, Corentin played games at home and occasionally helped Aunt Christine take care of Anya. Monday arrived in the blink of an eye.
Because he was directly transferred by the CEO, Corentin didn't have to work as a security guard anymore. Today, Corentin woke up early, drove the Passat specially provided by Mirela, and headed to work to embrace his new position.
After all, Corentin had a background as a security guard, so the Passat was a second-hand car bought by Mirela. It was already worn out both inside and out, with over a hundred thousand kilometers on it. But for Corentin, who used to take public transportation to work every day, it was still a treasure.
On a bustling street, Corentin had just finished his breakfast and was about to get into the car when a mocking voice came from behind, "Oh, this old car must be on its last legs. Aren't you afraid it will fall apart on the road?"
Corentin followed the voice and saw Brant, the head of the security department, standing next to a Porsche 911. He had two followers with him, one driving a Chevrolet Camaro, and the other driving a Mazda sports car.
"Well, it's true. It's quite impressive for a security guard to own a car. It doesn't matter what kind of car it is," Brant continued to mock relentlessly.
Corentin tapped his ear and said, "You're right, it's not even summer yet, but there are already so many flies buzzing around. It's really annoying. If I had a fly swatter, I would definitely swat those annoying flies."
"Pfft—" The people who were having breakfast almost sprayed their food when they heard Corentin's indirect insult. His sarcastic remark was truly astonishing.
Brant's two followers scolded, "Who are you talking about? Are you looking for trouble, kid?"
They rolled up their sleeves, ready to fight, but Brant witnessed Corentin's skills firsthand. He reached out and stopped them, smiling slyly, "We are civilized people. How can we resort to physical violence? If we're going to compete, it should be a battle of wits!"
"Corentin, are you up for a battle of wits?" Brant stared at Corentin.
A smirk appeared on Corentin's lips, "What kind of competition do you have in mind?"
"A race. Whoever reaches Soaring Group's Building first wins. If you're not up for it, then get lost," Brant looked down on Corentin's old Passat and sneered.
Shameless, truly shameless. The onlookers cursed inwardly upon hearing his words. How could a beat-up Passat compete with a Porsche 911?
"What's the wager?" Corentin squinted his eyes.
Silence fell upon everyone. They were shocked. They never expected Corentin to dare accept the challenge. Was he out of his mind?
Brant paused for a moment, then laughed and said, "You want to talk about the wager with me? What do you have to bet against me? Your entire being is only worth that old Passat. Here's the deal: if I lose, I'll give you 15,000 dollars. If you lose, you kneel down and kowtow to me three times. How about that?"
Corentin smiled and replied, "That wager is unfair. Whoever loses should kowtow three times and pay 15,000 dollars."
"Fine! If you don't have the money, I'll make sure you suffer," Brant gritted his teeth. He didn't believe he would lose. Even a brand-new Passat couldn't compare to a Porsche sports car.
Corentin chuckled lightly and said, "Let's begin!"
Brant and his two followers got into their respective sports cars, while Corentin prepared himself. With a loud roar, the Porsche 911 shot forward like an arrow, followed closely by the Camaro and the Mazda. Only Corentin's Passat remained slowly accelerating, and its slow acceleration was definitely a fatal disadvantage.
Upon witnessing this scene, everyone sighed deeply. Intelligence was truly a weakness!
Vroom! The Passat finally reached 60 miles per hour, and Corentin immediately floored the accelerator, with no concept of using the brakes. The speed increased rapidly, reaching 80 miles per hour, and it continued to climb.
The road they were on was called Eastern Avenue, with a speed limit of 50 miles per hour. There were several speed cameras and radars along the way. Brant was driving recklessly, paying no attention to the concept of speeding. He pushed the car to 100 miles per hour. However, since this was not a race track and there were many private cars on the road, he had to slow down but still maintained a speed of 80 miles per hour. Looking in the rearview mirror, he didn't see the black figure of the Passat behind him.
Brant revealed a hint of contemptuous smile, thinking, "What a disgrace to challenge me!"
However, at that moment, Brant's laughter abruptly stopped. A black figure emerged from behind a truck 100 meters away, moving at lightning speed, estimated to be over 120 miles per hour!
Moreover, the Passat showed no signs of slowing down in the face of the vehicles ahead. It maneuvered like a flickering shadow, darting between each car, drifting effortlessly.
"This is unbelievable!" Brant shouted, his heart pounding rapidly. How could this security guard possess such incredible driving skills?
Driving a nearly falling-apart Passat, he was able to control it so effortlessly, weaving through the congested road with ease.
Brant gritted his teeth, pressed the accelerator harder, and immediately made a phone call to his two followers behind him, saying, "Stop him for me!"