Chapter Seventy-Six: A Little Willfulness

Russlein was gone. Some malicious soul, delighted at the misfortune, had called the police early, so the patrol car arrived promptly.

The Swiss police were respectful to him, even helping this former Celestial Sovereign of the Six Realms open the back door of the car, allowing him to retain the last shred of dignity before his fans.

This was how things ended. Not a single person in the Divine Racing Team could relax, and Mo Shu’s mood was unbearably heavy.

Though the world finally learned about the ugly collusion between the Weiermin family and the racing world, was the exposure truly worth the sacrifice of Russlein?

Mo Shu couldn’t figure it out.

Is there any absolute right or wrong in this world? Does that faintly visible gray area between light and darkness truly exist?

The only thing he was certain of was that Russlein really shouldn’t have chosen crime.

“Annoying! I’m not a philosopher!” So many recent troubles, Mo Shu felt his mind was about to explode with all the thinking.

First Zhang Aimin, then Russlein.

Though their departures from the team differed, at crucial moments the old veterans around Mo Shu always seemed to leave without warning.

Perhaps it was fate.

Maybe Mo Shu was destined to be a young man who must blaze his own trail and grow through adversity.

“Ahem… Well, since things are settled, we still have today’s race to continue.” The ugly-faced official finally breathed a sigh of relief. He checked the time—just enough to start the race on schedule.

Everyone finally snapped back to reality. The technicians dove into the pit area to prep the cars.

But Mo Shu remained unmoved, resolutely declaring, “I won’t race. If you want to play, play by yourselves.”

The ERC official’s face flushed with shame and anger, but he didn’t know how to respond.

On the other side, a global automobile association official took up the microphone and sternly asked, “Mo Shu, are you saying you want to withdraw from the ERC race?”

“Yes! I’m quitting. I can’t represent the Divine Racing Team, but at least I can represent myself.” Mo Shu spoke even more forcefully. He’d had enough—what kind of international arena was this? It was utter chaos. All he wanted now was to return to Mount South and prepare his own downhill race.

“Hey, hey, hey… Don’t take Mo Shu’s words seriously. He’s just upset, speaking without thinking!” Wang Yu saw Mo Shu’s stubborn streak flare up and hurried to mediate.

“And who are you?” asked the auto association official.

“I’m the manager of the Divine Racing Team—I make the decisions.” Wang Yu announced his identity, which eased the official’s expression. After all, they didn’t want any driver to quit mid-race, especially not the newly popular God of Speed.

If Wang Yu could give them a way out, they would welcome it.

“Mo Shu, don’t be impulsive. Think it over again,” Wang Yu pulled Mo Shu aside and spoke in a low voice.

“I don’t want to think. I’ve had enough!” Mo Shu was visibly agitated.

“If you quit, what happens to the Divine Racing Team? What about Wang Yining? What about Wang Qing and Geng Hua? Are you going to make everyone abandon their dreams and return home with you?”

“I’m quitting for myself—you all can continue.”

“So you mean… you’re going to part ways with us?”

“…Who says we have to split up? I just don’t want to race!” Mo Shu had been stubbornly arguing, but the thought of being separated from his friends made him fall silent.

“Come on, stop making trouble. Let’s prep for the race. The ERC officials haven’t brought up whether you can continue, so let’s all give each other some face and end it here.” Wang Yu continued to patiently persuade him.

“Then… promise me this: after this year’s ERC, when we get back to Mount South, help me organize a new race.” Mo Shu started bargaining again, childishly.

“What? What race?” Wang Yu hadn’t heard of this before.

“Uh… We’ll talk about it later.” Wang Yu’s patience finally coaxed a smile from Mo Shu. In truth, he knew his stubborn donkey temperament often needed Wang Yu to calm him down.

Seeing Mo Shu’s mood lighten, Wang Yu quickly gave a thumbs-up to the auto association official, signaling that the God of Speed’s temper had finally been subdued.

“Hey, Mo Shu, I was pretty rude to you before—sorry about that!” Unexpectedly, Ron Thomas, the five-time runner-up known as the Light of Munich, extended a hand for peace with Mo Shu.

Mo Shu was surprised, and Wang Yu was amazed. It seemed their efforts had, after all, earned a measure of respect from their rivals.

“Ha, thanks! That game caused you to have an accident—I’m sorry about that too.” Mo Shu extended his fist, smiling with relief.

“Haha, we have a saying in China: ‘No fight, no friendship!’” Wang Yu also expressed goodwill to Thomas.

“No-fight-no-friendship… I’ll remember that!” Thomas bumped fists with Mo Shu, even mimicking the Chinese phrase in a comical accent, making all three burst into laughter.

Mo Shu gazed up at the sky, his heart full of emotion.

Russlein, your wish to balance the racing world—perhaps I, Mo Shu, can try to help you realize it.

“Mo Shu, if you’re starting first today, do us a favor and sweep the road for us. We can’t catch you anyway, so let the best man do the hardest work!” Thomas joked.

Mo Shu’s face darkened—should he just take the win for them?

“That’s right, God Mo—thanks!” Another driver passing by chimed in playfully.

“Haha, sorry God Mo, everyone wronged you, but we still need you to sweep the road out front!”

“God Mo, teach me how to drive that fast someday, will you?”

For a moment, drivers from all teams gathered around. At first, there had been misunderstandings and unfamiliarity with the Divine Racing Team, but now those misunderstandings were cleared, and everyone came to express goodwill. Besides, Mo Shu’s superb driving was a model for them.

“All drivers, SS2 stage is about to begin. Please take your places!” The ERC official had to step in to halt the chatter—the race, after all, had to go on.

“Now announcing the starting order.” Originally, this list should have been announced earlier, but this year’s ERC had been full of twists since the start, so results were always last-minute.

Mo Shu prayed for a reverse start—he wanted to enjoy the grip that comes with starting later.

The big screen revealed the list.

“Divine Racing Team’s Mo Shu, first to start!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from the other drivers. It was only fitting!

“God Mo is always generous, creating opportunities for those of us with weaker results!”

“Yeah, God Mo, run hard and sweep the road until it’s as smooth as asphalt!”

“Look, God Mo is sweating—could he actually be worried about his championship?”

“Hahahahaha!” Laughter broke out everywhere. The battlefield-like track suddenly became harmonious.

Many knew the gap between themselves and Mo Shu was too wide. If they couldn’t beat him, why not cheer him on?

Wang Yu watched happily from the side, nodding like a machine gun. Who wouldn’t love a scene where everyone was delighted?

That’s human nature—when the gap is small, rivals feel there’s a chance to catch up, so they press hard and compete fiercely.

But when you leave your opponents far behind, they’re freed from anxiety. Since they can’t catch up, they might as well become friends.