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5.48% Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest! / Chapter 9: The Racing Track

Chapitre 9: The Racing Track

"Trust me," Noah said, his voice softening as he turned to glance at her. "You're gonna love where we're going."

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination. Noah turned into a well-lit parking lot, and as the car slowed to a stop, Sarah's eyes widened in surprise.

"Welcome to the racing track!" Noah announced, stepping out of the car and opening the door for her.

Sarah stepped out, looking around in awe. "How did you know I like watching races? Did Layla tell you before?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Noah shook his head with a smile. "Nope, just a lucky guess."

As she processed his answer, a thought suddenly struck Sarah, and her excitement dimmed a bit.

"Oh no, I forgot to tell Layla I was going out!" she exclaimed, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone.

Before she could make the call, Noah gently took her hand. "It's okay," he said reassuringly. "Just text her that you went out for a bit and you'll be back soon. No need to worry."

Sarah looked at him for a moment, her initial worry subsiding as she saw the calm confidence in his eyes.

With a nod, she quickly typed a message to Layla, letting her know she'd be back soon.

Once she sent the text, Noah took her hand again, this time leading her towards the spectators' area.

The racing track was surprisingly full, with a lineup of sleek, powerful cars ready to compete.

Among them were models like the Porsche 911, Ford Mustang, and Corvette.

Noah's Lamborghini naturally caught the attention of everyone around. Spectators and racers started whispering, speculating if this newcomer was about to join the competition.

One of the racers, a young man who looked every bit the part of a wealthy second-generation heir, approached Noah.

His eyes gleamed with admiration as he took in the sight of the Lamborghini.

"Nice ride, man," the guy said, extending a hand. "I'm Jackson, by the way. Porsche 911 over there is mine."

Noah shook his hand, exchanging introductions.

Jackson seemed to be in his early twenties, with the confident, laid-back demeanour of someone who had been around fast cars his whole life.

"I've always wanted a Lambo like yours," Jackson continued his tone a mix of admiration and frustration. "But I don't have enough pocket money right now. Crashed my last car—a Ferrari—so my dad slashed my allowance."

"A total bummer."

Noah chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, it's a tough break."

"So, you gonna join the races tonight?" Jackson asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

"I'm just here to watch for a bit, maybe later," Noah replied with a casual shrug.

Jackson nodded, a hint of competitive spirit in his eyes.

"Well, if you do decide to jump in, see you on the track. I'm racing all night."

As Jackson walked back to his Porsche, Sarah looked at Noah with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

"Are you really thinking about racing?" she asked.

"Maybe," Noah replied with a grin, his eyes scanning the track. "But for now, let's enjoy the show."

Noah spotted a vendor with popcorn and drinks and turned to Sarah with a smile.

"Popcorn and a drink for the lady?" he asked, already making his way toward the vendor.

Sarah nodded with a grin. "Sounds perfect."

Noah returned a moment later, handing her a cup of soda and a bag of popcorn before taking a seat beside her.

As they settled in, the roar of engines filled the air as the cars lined up at the starting point.

The track itself was a sight to behold. Set on a winding hill, it featured sharp bends and steep inclines, making it a challenging and dangerous course.

The narrow paths and sudden drops added to the thrill, making it the perfect venue for adrenaline-pumping races that kept the spectators on the edge of their seats.

"Look at those turns," Noah remarked, pointing at the sharp curves that snaked around the hillside. "One wrong move, and you're off the track."

Sarah nodded, her eyes glued to the course. "That's what makes it so exciting, though. The danger keeps everyone on their toes."

The crowd around them buzzed with excitement, and snippets of conversations floated through the air as people discussed their predictions for the race.

"I've got my money on the guy in the Mustang," one spectator said to his friend. "He's been killing it lately. No one can beat him on the bends."

"Nah, the Porsche 911 has got this," another chimed in. "That car was made for tracks like this. Jackson's been practising here all week."

A group of young fans behind Noah and Sarah were excitedly discussing the drivers' skills. "Did you see how the Corvette handled those curves last time? It's like the car was glued to the road!"

"Yeah, but the Lamborghini could definitely surprise everyone," another fan argued. "If the driver's got the guts, that car could take the win."

Noah chuckled, "Seems like everyone's got a favourite."

Sarah nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "It's fun to see how passionate people get about this. Makes you want to root for someone too."

Just then, the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, signalling the start of the race.

The engines revved loudly, a deafening roar that vibrated through the stands as the cars lined up at the start.

"Here we go," Noah said, leaning forward slightly, the thrill of the race gripping him.

The flag dropped, and the cars surged forward, speeding down the straightaway before hitting the first sharp turn.

The Mustang took an early lead, drifting around the bend with precision, but the Porsche 911 was right on its tail.

As the race continued, the drivers pushed their cars to the limit, tyres screeching against the asphalt as they battled for position.

"Skrrtttt"

The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps with every close call, the dangerous bends and steep drops keeping everyone on the edge of their seats.

Noah glanced at Sarah, who was watching with wide eyes, completely absorbed in the action. He smiled, glad to see her enjoying herself so much.

The race intensified as the Mustang and Porsche 911 went toe-to-toe, each car coursing with remarkable skill through the sharp turns and steep inclines.

The spectators were on their feet, their cheers mixing with the roar of the engines as the two cars fought for the lead. It was impossible to tell who would come out on top as they approached the final stretch.

Both cars sped toward the finish line, side by side, engines screaming as they pushed to the limit.

The crowd held its breath as the two cars crossed the line in what seemed to be a dead heat.

Tension was in the air, and everyone around the track leaned forward, straining to see the result.

Noah, however, leaned back with a calm smile. "The Porsche won. It was faster by a few milliseconds," he said, his voice confident.

A man behind him scoffed. "Hmph, no one saw it yet, and you're claiming you saw a difference of milliseconds? Who do you think you are?"

Noah turned and flashed a smile. "We'll see."

Moments later, the announcer's voice crackled through the speakers, "We're doing a VAR check on the finish. Please stand by."

The tension mounted as the officials reviewed the footage in slow motion. Finally, the screen displayed the result.

The Porsche had indeed won, crossing the finish line just a fraction of a second before the Mustang.

The crowd erupted in cheers, though the man behind Noah snorted dismissively. "Lucky guess."

Noah simply chuckled, turning his attention back to Sarah. "Wanna participate in the next race?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Sarah looked at him, her face lighting up with excitement but quickly turning to concern.

"Do you really know how to drive on fast tracks? It's dangerous. I don't want you to place yourself in danger for a race."

"Don't worry," Noah reassured her, his grin widening. "I won't go too fast, just having some fun."

In his mind, however, Noah was already plotting how he'd blow past those amateur drivers. With his intermediate driving skills, on par with the best pro racers, he knew he could dominate the track.

It would be a waste not to showcase what he could do, especially in front of Sarah.

This wasn't just about winning, it was about showing her that she could trust him, even in the most thrilling and dangerous situations.

Sarah hesitated for a moment, then smiled, her excitement winning out. "Alright, let's do it. But promise me, you'll be careful."

"Promise," Noah said, though his grin betrayed his real intentions. This was going to be more than just fun—it was going to be unforgettable.


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