A Superpowered Warrior in a Fake Heiress’s Body novel Chapter 141

Chapter 141 Out of Your League

But in that split second, he fell dozens of yards behind Isabella.

Are you kidding me?

He was completely shell-shocked.

Did he seriously just fly right past me?!

Wait a minute!

A full 35-degree aerial spin!

Is he freaking insane?

With god-tier skills like that, what the hell are you doing flexing on our track?!

We rely purely on raw aggression just to scrape a living!

And another thing…

You were playing dumb the entire first half of the race!

You definitely weren’t acting like this when I forced you into the rock wall earlier!

“Dammit! You rich trust-fund babies sure know how to mess with a guy!”

The racer boss spat on the floor, his face dark with irritation.

But he refused to throw in the towel just yet.

After all, navigating the downhill descent on the Loop was a hundred times more treacherous.

The climb featured endless blind corners that left a man’s heart in his throat.

Did that mean the descent was a walk in the park?

Not a chance.

Going downhill was a total nightmare.

A single split-second oversight on the throttle, and the entire chassis would fly straight off the precipice.

Consequently, most street racers put on a massive show during the climb, slamming the pedal wide open to generate raw speed for the crowd.

But the second they flipped to the descent, they automatically cut power, tapping the brakes hard at every hairpin turn, with barely a soul brave enough to execute a real drift-because a single dip meant painting the ravine with your blood, and nobody wanted a body bag at the bottom of the ridge.

Because of those metrics, a driver with full track data and a willingness to court death could easily reclaim. the lead on the way down.

O

10:57 Thu, Jul 23 d D )) •

Chapter 141 Out of Your League

Finished

But while the kingpin plotted his catch, Isabella slammed her brakes into a brutal lock, refusing to drop momentum at the hairpin turn as she scraped the guardrail in a blinding blur of sparks and smoke.

In a flash, her chassis cleared two consecutive hairpins, rocketing right off the pavement to slam back down onto the secondary track below, sending up a fresh wall of sparks as she continued her breakneck descent.

She hadn’t backed off the gas for a single fraction of a second.

Holy sh*t.

The kingpin’s mind went completely numb.

It felt exactly like watching a high-budget Hollywood blockbuster.

This was totally unhinged.

Seriously, with a god-tier execution like that, she should be out destroying pro-circuit racers.

Why the hell was she down here hunting minor street punks?

It was flat-out confusing.

Whatever, time to figure out what to grab for a late-night snack.

Keeping a totally blank face, the kingpin tracked the fading red glow of her taillights through the exhaust fumes.

He was confident he had pushed his machine to its absolute threshold, but when the dust settled, he couldn’t even catch a trace of her exhaust trail.

Talk about pure, burning irritation.

He lost the cash pot, and his street cred was officially in the toilet.

His entire mental state collapsed.

These rich trust-fund bastards were absolute freaks, treating minor street punks like their personal playground toys.

The thought made his blood run hot, and he slammed a heavy fist into his steering wheel repeatedly.

As for running a retaliation strike?

What a joke.

That was a zero-interest move.

If their syndicate launched a hit every time someone lost a wager, the entire underground circuit would be wiped out in a week.

Besides, Isaac’s click clearly possessed deep capital reserves; retaliation?

Better skip the drama.

TIT

O

10:58 Thu, Jul 23 dan

Chapter 141 Out of Your League

Who knew who would end up dismantling whom?

Finished

With a thoroughly complex storm of emotions, the kingpin rolled his machine back onto the starring grid.

Throwing his door open with a heavy thud, he marched straight over to Isabella’s cabin, tapping the glass as he announced, “A bet’s a bet. You took the win.”

As the words left his lips, Isabella rolled the window down with a flat poker face, asking. “Which one of you is gonna haul this guy back to my place?”

Isabella was thoroughly left out of words.

How on earth was Isaac managing to dry-heave while completely unconscious?

Since when did a comatose slacker develop severe motion sickness?

The exact microsecond she spoke, a dead silence swept across the entire staging area.

When her supercar originally tore onto the grid in a blinding blur of sparks, the energy of the entire track had exploded.

The spectators erupted into pure, manic screaming.

Even the kingpin’s own crew, who were cheering for an easy victory a minute ago before getting thoroughly slammed, joined the frantic roaring.

They swarmed the crimson supercar like wild animals, jumping and dancing, with a couple of punks even ripping off their shirts to celebrate.

The crowd went completely berserk, their minds thoroughly hijacked by Isabella’s god-tier handling.

Zachary and his click went wild as well, screaming at the surrounding marks, “You seeing this? That’s my boy out there!

“The second heir of the Powell empire, absolute legend, right?!”

To hell with their old grudge.

Zachary turned the thought over in his head.

If he had tracked the data on Isaac possessing this level of insane skill, he never would have crossed paths with him.

Holy sh*t, that slacker had buried his cards deep in the dark.

What an absolute show-off.

The guy actually managed to pull off the ultimate flex.

But whatever, he could ride his coattails to flex on everyone else from now on.

10:58 Thu, Jul 23 do):

A Superpowered Warrior in a Fake Heiress’s Body