Chapter Fifty-Three: A Clever Move Backfires

Ice and snow on the road—slippery! No grip! Excessive oversteer comes easy! It’s all too simple to slide right off the track!

Was Mo Shu afraid of such things? Not in the slightest!

Let’s not forget, he was one of the rare few who had once received a personal demonstration from the rally legend Ruslain himself!

Besides, in this interactive segment between drivers and fans, the track was exceedingly short—barely two kilometers in total. For a professional driver, two kilometers was nothing more than the blink of an eye. Even though Mo Shu had never truly raced on a professional rally course, he was by no means much weaker than the experienced Thomas.

Unlike touring car circuits, rally racing was mostly a solitary affair, with drivers hurtling along natural terrain. This indoor “fun rally” was built to closely mimic the feel of a real stage.

Though Mo Shu and Thomas set off at the same time, one ran on asphalt, the other on ice and snow. The two cars would almost never meet on the same stretch of track.

It did make things a bit dull: typically, the excitement of racing comes from the jostling, the rivalry, the overtakes. But rally’s solo timed format meant that, no matter how hard the cars attacked or how spectacularly the drivers took corners, to the average enthusiast or a first-time spectator, the entertainment value was inevitably lacking, and the sport felt unwelcoming.

So, the ERC organizers devised some clever solutions, striving to enhance the spectacle of these fun rally events.

From the very beginning, the ERC made a special request of the designers: three distinctly different tracks, each with its own personality, must be created. The key was to preserve their independence while also building in certain intersections and connections.

The designers racked their brains and finally proposed a bold idea: overpasses!

Yes, just like highway interchanges. The ERC ultimately approved the plan—three independent tracks with several elevated crossing points, giving drivers a chance to encounter one another.

Even though the cars wouldn’t share the same stretch of track, mischievous and daring drivers could use these fleeting meetings to set small traps for their rivals—for instance, flinging gravel from the dirt track onto the asphalt to surprise an opponent with a sudden loss of grip, or using their tires to roll large chunks of ice onto the gravel path to obstruct the other’s route.

Over time, these antics became tradition. Every year during the ERC Media Day’s interactive session, drivers would enthusiastically display new and inventive “little tricks,” raising both the competitive intensity and the entertainment value for spectators.

Ron Thomas was a seasoned veteran, having participated in the interactive games for seven years. He’d driven all three tracks and was well versed in the art of making life difficult for his opponents.

On the asphalt course, the gentle bends at the start and finish were precisely where Thomas held an advantage in creating obstacles for Mo Shu. In the middle of the track, though, there was only a single chance for the asphalt and ice courses to cross paths—and not a close one at that.

Thus, when Thomas launched his car, he strove to pull ahead of Mo Shu right from the start, ensuring the perfect position to hinder his rival.

Meanwhile, the icy conditions inevitably hampered Mo Shu’s speed—the slickness was the principal problem. No matter how skilled, one couldn’t hope to match dry-weather speed in such conditions, just as in a rainy city.

Now Thomas was nearing the first obstacle point. He’d done his homework during reconnaissance: this year, organizers had planted several saplings on the bend, each now about as thick as a grown man’s forearm.

Thomas was prepared to sacrifice a little speed, using a drifting tail-slide to snap off a few of those saplings and send them directly across Mo Shu’s path. This would surely cause Mo Shu considerable trouble—if a branch got caught in his wheel, a rollover, a snapped axle, or any number of unexpected disasters might unfold. That would make the game truly spectacular.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Everything went smoothly. Three saplings lay felled, sprawled right in the middle of the icy road.

Truth be told, these ERC-standard cars were surprisingly sturdy—almost as robust as Thomas’s own race vehicle.

Thomas couldn’t help but praise the car, and nearly burst out laughing in anticipation. He could hardly wait to see Mo Shu’s embarrassment.

Yet, Mo Shu seemed to be lagging far behind. Thomas even had to slow down and wait, but his rival was nowhere to be seen.

“What a pity... I didn’t expect the kid to be so slow!” Thomas, for once, felt a twinge of disappointment. He needed to push on—after all, it was still a timed competition. He couldn’t afford to let the clock run unchecked.

Such a gap after just the first bend! Through the middle section, Thomas didn’t push hard; instead, he glanced toward the distant spectators, hoping their reactions might give him clues about Mo Shu’s race.

“Oooh!” came waves of gasps from the crowd.

A smile finally appeared on Thomas’s face. Clearly, Mo Shu had encountered some trouble. Judging by the audience’s reaction, his plan must have worked beautifully.

“Driver, slow down! There seems to be an obstacle 200 meters ahead!” his European co-driver suddenly shouted.

Thomas had still been picturing how things were going for Mo Shu when the call jarred him back to reality.

What was that? Was there a snow mountain in the middle of the track?

Thomas refused to believe his eyes.

To be precise, it was just a massive pile of snow, but on the narrow track, “mountain” was hardly an exaggeration.

The three-meter-wide asphalt was completely buried under snow, the heap rising nearly two meters high—blocking not only the road but also the drivers’ line of sight.

“Damn it, did Mo Shu do this? Did he really get ahead of me?” Thomas was incredulous. To move that much snow so quickly, Mo Shu must have been at least a minute faster! Impossible—after all, the whole course took just over two minutes to complete. How could Mo Shu have had the time to build something so big?

“Tch! Even if he managed it, the snow’s just sitting loose on the road. I’ll just plow right through!” Thomas cursed as he floored the accelerator, racing ahead.

“Wait—left hairpin in fifty meters!” His co-driver was distracted too, only now glancing at the pace notes and exclaiming in alarm.

“Damn it! You—why didn’t you—”

Before he could finish, a tremendous crash rang out as the car smashed into the mound, sending snow flying high into the air.

The entire test course seemed to shudder with the force of the impact. The fans who’d just been cheering were instantly silenced—everyone sensed something had gone very wrong, though it was hard to see exactly what.

As the snowflakes settled, a tree trunk as thick as a man’s waist lay sprawled across the course, its branches broken and scattered, leaves strewn in chaotic disarray—all seemingly “decorating” a car now battered beyond recognition. Inside, Ron Thomas slumped over the wheel, foam at his lips, unconscious.