The sports car roared like a beast unleashed, engines howling, speeding forward, covering a hundred meters in just seconds.
Of course, there was one exception—Lin Tian's domestic car. With just a glance, the five sports cars had already charged ahead, leaving him several car lengths behind.
Even stranger, while the sports cars' engines roared deeply when accelerating, the domestic car's engine was quiet, drowned out in the roar of the sports cars. It was like a silent white ghost, gliding forward.
"He must be sent by God as a comedian," the rich kids commented, looking at the lagging Lin Tian.
"No doubt, Twelve Young Master will take the first place again tonight. His cornering skills are unmatched!"
The group, rather than watching a racing competition, seemed to be there just to watch Twelve Young Master perform.
