4: Chapter 4 Underground Racing, The First Pot of Gold

The night was like a piece of velvet soaked in ink, pressing heavily over Los Santos. The waves at Vespucci Beach crashed against the reefs with a rhythmic splashing sound, and the salty sea breeze swirled with the halo of neon lights, blowing through an abandoned pier.

This was the gathering place for Los Santos' underground street racers.

Several gaudily modified sports cars were parked in the open space of the pier, their engines roaring one after another. The exhaust fumes from the tailpipes carried a pungent smell of gasoline, mixing with the saltiness of the sea breeze as it permeated the air. Racers gathered in small groups, cigarettes dangling from their mouths and wrenches in their hands. Their eyes held a rebellious disdain, and bursts of laughter erupted from time to time, echoing across the empty pier.

Lin Fan huddled in the shadows of the pier, tightening the cheap jacket he had just bought—using the money Michael gave him plus the remaining loot from the convenience store robbery, he had finally gotten rid of those foul-smelling clothes and changed into a clean outfit. His back still throbbed with a dull ache from the bruises caused by Michael's SUV, but compared to his previous wretched state, he was doing much better.

In his hand, he clutched a crumpled flyer he had picked up earlier at a roadside auto repair shop. The flyer featured exaggerated fonts that read: "Vespucci Underground Racing Night, Grand Prize: Fifty Thousand!"

Fifty thousand!

Lin Fan's eyes lit up.

In this cutthroat Los Santos, money was one's lifeblood. With fifty thousand dollars, he could rent an apartment and buy a used car, no longer needing to hide away like a stray dog. More importantly, after completing the "Rob the Convenience Store" mission, the system had rewarded him with a skill in addition to Basic Combat: Driving Mastery.

This skill felt as if it were etched into his very bones. From theory to practice, from ordinary sedans to supercars, and from straight-line acceleration to drifting through corners, all knowledge and techniques regarding driving were crystal clear in his mind. He could now confidently say that even if he were driving a beat-up pickup truck, he could still go toe-to-toe with those modified sports cars.

"Damn it, let's go for it!" Lin Fan gritted his teeth and stepped out from the shadows.

His appearance immediately caught the attention of the surrounding racers.

A woman wearing a tight racing suit and sporting dyed pink hair sized him up, a mocking smile curling on her lips. "Hey, kid, you're in the wrong place, aren't you? This isn't the playground you're looking for."

The people around her followed suit with laughter, their gazes scraping over Lin Fan's cheap jacket like knives, filled with undisguised contempt.

"Look at this pauper; I bet he doesn't even have a car."

"He's probably here to beg for a meal. Scram, kid, don't hold up our race."

"Exactly. This is underground racing; we play for lives, not house."

Lin Fan's face flushed bright red, and he clenched his fists. In the past, he definitely would have backed down, but things were different now—he had the Driving Mastery skill and the system's backing. What did he have to fear?

He took a deep breath, stiffened his neck, and walked up to a man in a black tank top with bulging muscles—the organizer of this underground race, nicknamed "Black Bear."

"I want to sign up for the race." Lin Fan's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable firmness.

Black Bear had a cigarette in his mouth and squinted as he sized him up, as if looking at a joke. "Enter the race? Sure. Entry fee is five thousand. Where's your car?"

Lin Fan had already thought of a plan. He pointed to a dust-covered, beat-up pickup truck in a corner of the pier. He had bought it for a thousand dollars from a homeless man—the engine still turned, the four wheels hadn't fallen off, and it was barely drivable.

"That one."

As soon as he spoke, the surrounding laughter grew even louder.

The pink-haired woman laughed so hard she couldn't stand straight. "Hahaha! Are you fucking kidding me? Entering an underground race in a piece of junk pickup? Are you trying to make us die of laughter?"

"That pickup will probably fall apart before it even clears the first turn!"

"Kid, I suggest you go home and get some sleep. Don't embarrass yourself here."

Black Bear couldn't help but laugh too. He blew a smoke ring and patted Lin Fan on the shoulder. "Kid, your courage is commendable. But racing is no child's play. That junk heap of yours doesn't even qualify to enter."

"Whether I'm qualified or not, we'll only know after the race." Lin Fan's eyes were bright. He looked at Black Bear and said word for word, "I'll bet all the money I have left. If I lose, it's all yours. If I win, I want double the champion's prize—one hundred thousand!"

The surrounding laughter stopped instantly.

Everyone was stunned, their gazes shifting from contempt to shock as they looked at Lin Fan.

Is this kid crazy?

Betting his entire net worth and demanding double the prize?

Black Bear was also taken aback for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing through them. He had been in the underground racing scene for many years and had seen the arrogant and the boastful, but he had never seen someone so reckless. This kid either really had some skills or his head was stuck in a door.

"Fine!" Black Bear slapped his thigh hard and spat out his cigarette butt. "I like your brand of crazy! I'll take that bet! If you win, the prize is a hundred thousand! If you lose, your money belongs to me, and so does that piece of junk pickup!"

"It's a deal!" Lin Fan reached out his hand.

Black Bear grinned and shook his hand, his rough palm squeezing so hard it felt like it might crush Lin Fan's bones. "It's a deal!"

The surrounding racers also gathered around, their eyes filled with the excitement of watching a spectacle. They wanted to see what kind of tricks this kid in the beat-up pickup could actually pull off.

Just then, the roar of an engine approached.

A silver-gray modified coupe slowly entered the pier. Its lines were sleek, and its exhaust emitted a low growl; one look was enough to tell it was not to be trifled with. The car door opened, and a young man wearing a black hoodie and a baseball cap stepped out. His eyes were calm, his movements efficient, and his expression carried a faint touch of detachment. It was Franklin Clinton.

Franklin's appearance immediately heated up the atmosphere at the scene.

"It's Franklin!"

"Holy shit, he's here too! Now this is going to be a good show!"

"Franklin was the champion of the last race. His car is top-tier, and his skills are beyond reproach!"

Lin Fan's eyes lit up as well.

Franklin! Another protagonist from the game!

He hadn't expected to run into Franklin here. And looking at the situation, Franklin was the favorite to win this underground race.

Franklin frowned, scanning the surrounding crowd. His gaze eventually landed on Lin Fan and the beat-up pickup behind him. A flicker of confusion passed through his eyes, as if he were wondering why someone would bring such a vehicle to an underground race.

Black Bear walked over with a smile and patted Franklin on the shoulder. "Franklin, you finally made it! I guess the championship belongs to you again this time!"

Franklin simply gave a faint nod, his gaze falling on Lin Fan once more without saying a word.

Looking at him, Lin Fan suddenly remembered a meme from the real world. In a moment of heat, he blurted out, "Hey! You in the hat! Do you dare to race me? I'll show you what it means to be the mount akina god of drifting!"

The mount akina god of drifting?

Everyone around was stunned, looking at each other, not knowing what that meant.

Franklin was also taken aback for a moment. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of interest appearing in his gaze toward Lin Fan. "mount akina god of drifting? Never heard of it. But since you want to race, I'm in."

Lin Fan felt a surge of excitement.

Competing on the same stage as Franklin! In the past, he wouldn't have even dared to dream of this!

Seeing the tension between the two rising, Black Bear's eyes crinkled into slits as he smiled. "Alright, alright, all drivers get ready! The race is about to start! The track starts from the pier, goes three laps along the coastal highway, and ends back at the pier. Whoever crosses the finish line first is the champion!"

The racers returned to their cars one after another, and the roar of engines instantly became deafening.

Lin Fan also climbed into the beat-up pickup.

The moment he sat in the driver's seat, a familiar feeling surged through him. The Driving Mastery skill was instantly activated, and various parameters of the pickup clearly surfaced in his mind—maximum engine power, torque, brake sensitivity, steering angle... he knew everything perfectly.

He took a deep breath, gripped the steering wheel, stepped on the clutch, shifted gears, and released the handbrake in one fluid motion.

The pickup emitted a dull roar and slowly drove to the starting line.

Beside him, Franklin watched his practiced movements, the interest in his eyes deepening.

In front of the starting line, all the cars were poised and ready.

Black Bear stood by the line, holding a starting flag, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Drivers! Get ready—"

All the racers floored their gas pedals. The roar of the engines reached a peak, and the flames spitting from the tailpipes were exceptionally piercing in the night air.

Lin Fan gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the track ahead, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He could feel the surrounding air vibrating, and everyone's gaze was fixed on him and his junk pickup.

"Go!"

Black Bear swung the starting flag down sharply.

Almost at the same time, all the cars charged out like wild horses breaking free from their reins!

The roar of the engines was deafening, and the friction between tires and ground kicked up a spray of gravel and dust.

Franklin's silver-gray coupe took the lead, like a bolt of silver lightning, instantly creating distance from the other cars. The other modified sports cars were not to be outdone, following closely behind, chasing and competing with each other without yielding.

Meanwhile, Lin Fan's beat-up pickup was left at the very back.

"Hahaha! I told you! This junk pickup can't do it!"

"He was left behind right at the start; he's definitely going to lose now!"

"This kid's hundred thousand is about to go down the drain!"

The surrounding spectators erupted into laughter, their voices filled with schadenfreude.

Lin Fan, however, wasn't panicked at all.

He knew that underground racing tracks had many turns and complex road conditions. It wasn't just about straight-line speed; it was about cornering techniques and vehicle control. And that was exactly his forte!

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his sharp gaze fixed on the track ahead. The first turn was approaching quickly—a sharp ninety-degree turn known as "Dead Man's Curve." Many racers would lose control here due to excessive speed and fly off the track.

Franklin, ahead, lived up to his reputation. He slammed on the brakes while turning the wheel, and the car drifted beautifully through the corner. The tires screeched against the ground, kicking up a cloud of smoke. With almost no loss in speed, he cleared the turn instantly.

The other racers followed suit; some successfully navigated the turn, while others, due to improper operation, crashed into the guardrails with a loud bang, forced to withdraw from the race in frustration.

It was Lin Fan's turn.

The spectators held their breath, waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Black Bear also shook his head, thinking the kid was bound to stumble here.

Franklin also watched him through the rearview mirror, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Lin Fan took a deep breath, his gaze becoming incredibly focused.

He didn't slam on the brakes like the other racers. Instead, he tapped the brakes lightly while sharply turning the wheel and pulling the handbrake!

This was an extremely dangerous drifting technique—the handbrake drift!

And he was doing it in a beat-up pickup truck!

Everyone's eyes widened, unable to believe the scene before them.

The rear of the pickup swung out violently, and the vehicle drifted through the turn at an incredible angle, hugging the guardrail! The tires screeched against the pavement, kicking up thick smoke. What was even more shocking was that during the drift, Lin Fan was actually still stepping on the gas. The pickup's speed didn't slow down; instead, it even increased slightly!

"Holy shit!"

"What the hell kind of maneuver is that?!"

"A junk pickup can actually drift through a corner?!"

The surrounding spectators were stunned, their laughter instantly turning into gasps of surprise.

Black Bear's eyes widened as well, and he didn't even notice the cigarette falling from his mouth to the ground.

Seeing this through his rearview mirror, Franklin's pupils contracted slightly, and he couldn't help but mutter two words: "Badass."

A confident smile curled on Lin Fan's lips.

This was the power of Driving Mastery!

After clearing Dead Man's Curve, Lin Fan's pickup seemed to have been activated, flying across the track. His control over the vehicle had reached a level of perfection. During straight-line acceleration, he squeezed every bit of potential out of the engine; during corners, his drifting technique was even more masterful. Every drift was precise, with minimal loss of speed.

Soon, he overtook one modified sports car after another!

From last place to fifth from last, then third from last...

The spectators were completely dumbfounded, their mouths constantly letting out gasps. No one dared to mock his junk pickup anymore.

Franklin also noticed the commotion behind him. He watched the pursuing pickup through his rearview mirror, a flash of surprise in his eyes. He could feel that this kid in the junk pickup had driving skills that were definitely not inferior to his own!

"Interesting," Franklin whispered. He floored the gas, pushing his car to its limit.

The silver-gray coupe accelerated again, like a bolt of silver lightning flying across the track.

Lin Fan was not to be outdone, following closely behind.

Two cars—one a top-tier modified coupe, the other a dilapidated pickup—engaged in a thrilling chase along the coastal highway!

The waves crashed against the shore with a rhythmic splashing sound. The sea breeze carried a salty mist through the window, brushing against Lin Fan's cheek. His eyes were locked onto Franklin ahead, his heart pounding, yet his hands were as steady as a rock. Every turn of the wheel, every press of the gas and brake was as precise as if measured with a ruler.

The race had entered the final lap.

The finish line was at the pier ahead, visible in the distance.

Franklin held a lead of half a car length. Seeing the finish line getting closer, he gritted his teeth and accelerated again.

"Want to beat me? No way!" Lin Fan growled, his gaze becoming incredibly sharp.

He spotted the final turn ahead—a continuous S-curve, the key to deciding victory!

Franklin entered the curve first. His drift was still beautiful, but Lin Fan could feel his speed slowing down—continuous curves were extremely taxing on a vehicle, and even his top-tier modified coupe was starting to struggle.

Lin Fan seized this opportunity!

He slammed on the gas while simultaneously turning the wheel and pulling the handbrake!

The rear of the pickup swung out again, drifting through the turn at an even more difficult angle, hugging the guardrail! This time, his drift trajectory was even more perfect than Franklin's!

The moment he exited the curve, Lin Fan floored the gas. The pickup's engine let out a roar, like a sleeping beast being awakened!

The pickup's speed surged instantly, overtaking Franklin's silver-gray coupe!

"Holy shit! He passed him!"

"The junk pickup passed Franklin!"

"This kid is going to win!"

The surrounding spectators all stood up, letting out deafening cheers.

Franklin's eyes also widened as he watched the pickup pull further and further away in his rearview mirror.