Chapter 618: He's Very Worried...

Zane Langdon changed into a racing suit, grabbed a helmet from his closet, and headed to his private garage.

A motorcycle, shrouded under a cover, was parked in a corner. He pulled the cover off and swung a leg over the seat.

The motorcycle’s engine roared like a wild beast, a deep growl as it shot forward.

‘Jasper Rockwell loves his bikes more than life itself, yet he sold one just to enter the race.’

‘Last time, for that badge, even though Jasper got through it unscathed, it was pure luck. He was gambling with his life! This time… this is a straight-up death wish!’

Zane Langdon was losing control.

He had to admit it: he was worried sick about Jasper Rockwell.

The emotion threw his mind into turmoil.

Now, everything he did was purely on instinct.

…

Jasper Rockwell arrived at the shop, pulling off his helmet as he walked inside.

After a full day of practice, he was dusty, disheveled, and a bit of a mess. He glanced into the shop, which was constructed from shipping containers. Inside a glass-partitioned area that served as both a lounge and an office, he saw a familiar figure.

‘Zane Langdon?’

‘I’m not seeing things, am I?’

Zane Langdon turned his head. Though he hadn’t seen Jasper, he could already sense his presence.

He slowly rose to his feet and turned.

The confusion on Jasper Rockwell’s face melted into a brilliant smile, and he immediately started walking toward Zane.

Zane walked toward him, but before he could say a word, Jasper raised a hand and gave his shoulder a friendly punch.

“Zane, what are you doing here? And what’s with the getup? You have a club event or something?”

“I’m here for some maintenance on my bike.”

“Oh,” Jasper Rockwell said with a nod.

RUMBLE~

They both froze.

Jasper clutched his stomach in embarrassment, then started patting his pockets, only to find them empty.

Seeing this, Zane’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t eaten?”

“Only had breakfast.”

Zane strode toward the exit.

“Zane! I just got here and you’re leaving already?”

Zane stopped and glanced back at Jasper. “I’m going to get you something to eat.”

Jasper blinked, then broke into a grin. “Well, thanks! There’s a late-night food stall not far from here. I’m craving their stir-fried rice noodles. A few barbecue skewers would be great too, and grab some beer! Have you eaten yet?”

“No.” With that, Zane grabbed a nearby helmet and walked out.

Jasper had been about to say something else, but seeing Zane’s cold demeanor, he let his raised hand fall and scratched his head.

“Third Master, I got a new shipment of parts in. Wanna take a look? You’ve been pushing your bike pretty hard these past few days; a lot of the components need to be replaced.”

“I’d love to! Why don’t you tell me how much that’ll cost?”

“Going up against the Death Track with your current setup? That’s a suicide mission!”

Jasper walked over to the sink, splashed some water on his face, and straightened his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smirked.

“Got any buyers for my bike?”

The shop owner’s hands froze mid-task. He looked over at Jasper. “That bike of yours… you’re really selling it for a song. Don’t you regret it?”

“To me, it’s worth it.”

“Someone asked about it.”

“What’s the offer?”

“I told him your situation. I mean, your bike is a collector’s item. In a few decades, its value could multiply dozens of times over. It’s the kind of thing people would be fighting to get their hands on.”

“Just tell me the number! How much did he offer?”

The shop owner held up five fingers.

“Five hundred thousand? What the hell, that’s a total rip-off! I’d get more than that selling it for scrap!”

“Five million!”

“What? Five… million?!” Jasper couldn’t believe it. Having that much money in one go was unthinkable.