Chapter 233
Harvey longed forward, reaching for Corona’s door, intending to drag Elara out of the car. Several staff members Immediately rushed in, positioning themselves between him and the whicle.
“Mr. Fisher, the race is about to start!”
“Mr. Fisher, please do not interfere with Luna’s preparations.”
Harvey snapped, “The person in Corona is Elara Jones! She can’t possibly be Luna!”
The words weren’t just meant for them–they were meant for himself. The car door locked shut, and Elara drove Corona toward the track.
“Move!” Harvey, who was strong enough to hold his own, shoved aside the staff blocking his way and ran toward the edge of the track.
Elara warmed up Corona but never stepped out. As soon as Corona rolled onto the track, the crowd in the grandstands erupted in cheers.
“Luna! Luna!” Tens of thousands of racing fans shouted her name.
Their devotion was evident. As Corona approached the starting line, many were overcome with emotion, and some were even shedding tears.
But why hadn’t Elara stepped out of Corona?
Harvey scanned the area, searching for the real Luna. The race was about to start, so where was Luna?
Inside her own race car, Niamh spotted Harvey standing at the track’s edge. Her instinct was to roll down the window and call out to him.
He could have been watching from the VIP suite, yet he chose to be here. That meant Harvey was paying close attention to her.
A smug sense of triumph bloomed in her chest. She lowered her window, raising her hand excitedly to wave at him as she shouted, “Harvey!”
Her voice, muffled by her helmet, barely carried. Even so, Harvey didn’t spare her a single glance.
“Niamh Jones! Why the hell are you opening the window? The race is starting!”
Vincent, who was watching from the control station, saw Niamh rolling down her window and felt his bloou pressure spike.
He snatched the radio, his voice booming with fury as he cursed her out repeatedly. His words that were barked in Melcinian went right over Niamh’s head.
Instead of understanding the urgency, she mumbled in irritation, “Why the hell is he yelling about?”
The interpreter grabbed the radio in a hurry, speaking at an extremely fast pace as he urged Niamh, “Close the window now! Focus on the race!”
Even the interpreter, who was responsible for relaying instructions to Niamh, felt like he needed oxygen. He couldn’t comprehend her reckless behavior. Sure, it was an exhibition race, but did she have to treat it this carelessly?
At that moment, the starting hom blared. After three beeps, the cars at the starting line shot, forward like arrows loosed from a bow.
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Chapter 233
+25 BONUS
Vincent, who was watching from the control station, saw how slowly Niamh had started. He clutched his head in frustration, while the other engineers shouted in despair, calling upon the gods.
At that pathetic starting speed, she was practically guaranteed last place. Some engineers ripped off their headsets, contemplating whether it was still possible to quit her team immediately.
After taking a few deep breaths, Vincent picked up the radio again and continued giving her instructions.
“Stick to Luna’s pace! Get right behind her! She’ll set the rhythm for you, so that way, you won’t finish last!”
The other engineers had already started crossing themselves, silently praying for Niamh’s survival.
Nonetheless, Niamh scoffed. “I’m not following Luna’s ass. Quit nagging me!”
She then switched off the communication system entirely. She didn’t need guidance from these Moonchaser Racing Club foreigners who clearly didn’t believe in her skills. Niamh had her own plan
To eliminate suspicion, she had planted tiny flying insects inside the helmets of four or five of the worst- performing racers in history. During the race, the bugs would crawl into their hair, skitter across their scalps, and eventually make their way to their eyes and faces.
The moment the insects made contact, the affected racers would be thrown off their game. With that distraction, her own ranking would improve.
Of course, she had also planted some in Luna’s helmet out of spite. If Luna screwed up in this race, then the so- called “Eucon’s No.1 Female Racer” would be forever humiliated.
A wicked smirk stretched across Niamh’s lips. She was like a crocodile lurking in the mud, patiently waiting for her prey to make a fatal mistake.
“Damn it! She turned off the radio! That arrogant woman!
Vincent was enraged as he slammed the radio onto the table. Another engineer covered his face as he watched Niamh’s miserable speed on the track, unable to bear the embarrassment.
