Chapter 35: Breaking the Line

Ah—what a pain. That troublesome brat is coming…

Evelyn kept her gun raised and aimed, but because Cyril suddenly accelerated and rushed between her and Cage, the muzzle’s target shifted—from Cage to Cyril.

He planted himself firmly at Cage’s side. The twin gun barrels cast from Duram alloy were almost poking straight into Cyril’s helmet.

“Serte, he—”

“The young master’s sudden bout of kindness?”

Before Cyril’s words could be swallowed by the pressure of the rushing wind, Evelyn cut him off. “Let me guess—you want him to win? Just because of that misplaced compassion of yours?”

“Even if you’ve managed to stand back up, you’re still half-baked…”

Evelyn slightly adjusted her aim. Bang! A single shot severed the flaming long whip Cage had flung over—one that had nearly struck Cyril.

“Wake up, young master. Demons don’t need compassion.”

“His sister… he needs this victory!”

Cyril paused, then reached up and removed his helmet.

The high-speed wind scattered the white strands of hair on his forehead. The flamboyant arrogance and sinister edge he’d shown before were gone, replaced by an expression that could only be described as resolute.

“He doesn’t need to win. Move.”

Evelyn leveled the gun at Cyril again. “I’ll count to three.”

On the ring finger of her left hand, the glow of six command seals pierced through her leather racing glove.

This was a threat. Cyril could not resist the orders of a command seal. Once activated, the forced execution—and the soul-rending agony that accompanied it—would be more than this coward could endure.

“I won’t move.”

Cyril’s expression was unwavering.

He didn’t know that Evelyn had already seen Cage’s memories through the blood pact. All he knew was that he wanted Cage to win.

To let him win—to let him earn enough prize money to pay for his sister’s medical treatment.

Cyril knew Evelyn needed that money too, but compared to repairing guns, saving an innocent life mattered more.

This was both saving his sister’s life and saving Cage’s dignity.

For that, Cyril was prepared to forcibly resist the command seal, to endure the pain that could tear his soul apart.

As for the money Evelyn needed—he figured he would find a way to compensate her afterward.

“I’ll say it again. Move.”

“I won’t!”

“You might as well shove your brain into a motorcycle engine and let it spin at 7,200 RPM—maybe that’ll knock some sense into you!”

Evelyn sneered. “Young master.”

She had expected this, but Cyril’s naïveté still disappointed her.

Three motorcycles racing side by side had already cleared over ninety percent of the track. John Bridge—the finish line—was drawing closer and closer.

And at that very moment, Cage suddenly rammed forward again.

Because Cyril was between him and Evelyn, Cage’s target shifted—from Evelyn to Cyril.

The steel wheel wreathed in flames roared toward the front wheel of Cyril’s bike. If it hit, the unmodified White Widow would be shredded into pieces within seconds by that chainsaw-like flaming wheel.

Cyril tried to dodge—but it was too late. The serrated edge of the steel wheel had already carved a terrifying gash into the White Widow’s front fender.

Focused entirely on Evelyn, Cyril failed to react, failed to defend against this sudden collision.

He couldn’t understand it either—he was helping Cage, so why would Cage choose this moment to attack him?

Boom!

The roaring steel wheel slammed into the White Widow’s front wheel. The savage force made the entire bike shudder and lose balance, the frame screaming with the sound of overstrained metal twisting.

Cyril had no choice but to slow down to regain control.

Yet the White Widow—supposedly destined to be torn apart beneath the steel wheel—was completely intact.

If one’s dynamic vision were sharp enough—sharp to an exaggerated degree like Evelyn’s—they would have seen several fleeting arcs of electricity flash between the two bikes just before contact. The collision was repelled by an invisible force.

That, of course, was Cyril’s doing. In his haste, he could only generate a magnetic field between his bike and Cage’s, using magnetic repulsion to knock Cage away.

But forces act in pairs—even repulsive magnetic fields.

Cyril didn’t have time to create another stabilizing field on the other side of the White Widow. As a result, although the bike avoided instant destruction, it still lost balance due to the counterforce.

“Why?!”

Cyril barely managed to steady the bike.

He couldn’t understand why Cage had rammed him—but that very collision had also opened up some distance between him, Evelyn, and Cage.

“Why? Because you’re too naïve.”

Evelyn murmured softly, not caring whether her helmet-muffled voice reached Cyril.

She lifted her gaze toward the brightly lit bridgehead ahead.

John Bridge was right there. They were about to enter the sightlines of the VIPs and the spectators.

If Cage wasn’t dealt with before reaching the bridge, then everyone would witness a skeleton engulfed in flames, riding a fire-wreathed motorcycle onto the bridge.

Letting ordinary people witness anything related to demons wasn’t really a big deal for the Church.

In this era, almost everyone believed demons existed. Any sightings, any traces demons left behind, would simply become urban legends passed from mouth to mouth.

But for Evelyn, Cage appearing in this state before the public was unacceptable.

Once he was seen openly, the Church would take notice.

Whether it was the Sin Nun Order or priests and nuns from other departments, they would all set their sights on Cage.

Those who disliked Evelyn wouldn’t let her so easily follow the trail, find the original demon behind it all, and rack up merit to advance into the Choir.

So… was this the only way?

Evelyn glanced at the canal, its surface rippling, then turned her head to look back at Cyril.

“I really don’t want to take an ice bath…”

She raised her left hand and fixed her gaze on Cyril. “By the name of the command seal…”

On her ring finger, six command seals flared with blinding light.

“Charge through the line, Cyril! Take the championship!”

Crack!

With a crisp sound, the final command seal shattered.

An irresistible force instantly swept through Cyril’s entire body, forcing him to twist the throttle and push the White Widow to its absolute limit.

“No…”

Cyril clenched his teeth, forcibly enduring the soul-rending pain as he tried to resist the seal’s command.

But a command seal was a command seal precisely because its orders were impossible to resist.

He could only watch in despair as his body carried the White Widow surging forward.

And Evelyn—after activating the command seal—wrenched her handlebars hard. The Hell Mammoth roared as it slammed straight into Cage.

Boom!

This military-grade mobile assault platform unleashed terrifying power in an instant, crashing directly into the underside of Cage’s bike.

The Hell Mammoth’s front tire finally burst under the scorching flames, erupting with an ear-splitting bang.

Yet this industrial beast, carrying unimaginable force, shoved Cage at an unbelievable angle and speed straight into the canal.

Splash!

Two heavy motorcycles plunged into the water, throwing up a spray dozens of meters high.

Icy river water instantly engulfed Evelyn. If her physical parameters hadn’t long been enhanced by prayer, the sheer impact alone would’ve knocked her unconscious.

You didn’t want this to happen either—right?

In the dark, freezing water, the two heavy bikes slowly sank. Evelyn released a cluster of bubbles from the corner of her mouth as she gradually aimed Shut Up at Cage.

Above them, the brilliantly lit John Bridge was distorted by the refracting water. Below, Cage seemed to have lost consciousness from the impact.

The flames burning on his body were extinguished by the river. Massive clouds of steam rose, turning into bubbles that drifted upward and formed a white mist on the surface.

He was reverting to human form.

Evelyn had to do this. She couldn’t let Cage charge onto John Bridge and expose himself in front of everyone.

Originally, she could’ve knocked Cage into the canal in a far less extreme, less insane way—but Cyril’s interference had cost her the best opportunity.

Now, ramming Cage into the canal was her only option.

But after that, Cyril wouldn’t cross the finish line. He would rather stop short of it, cut the engine, and wait for Cage to climb out and resume the chase.

So before hitting Cage, Evelyn had used a command seal—ordering that naïve half-demon young master to charge through the line and claim victory.

But that’s the outcome you wanted, isn’t it?

Evelyn lowered her gun slightly.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t have chosen to ram Cyril just before reaching the bridge.

Cyril was too naïve. He thought letting Cage keep winning—letting him take the prize money—would save his sister, save his dignity.

But how could the dignity of a professional racer, one who would risk death rather than throw a match, accept a victory won not by skill, but by someone else’s pity?

You’ve run too fast, too far. You’ve won too much—so much that you’ve forgotten why you wanted to win in the first place.

You don’t need to keep winning.

What you need is…

A defeat—one that forces you to stop and think.

Bang!

The muzzle of Shut Up spat out an exaggerated flame. Two silver bullets spun out, carving twin vacuum trails underwater.

Clack!

The bullets grazed Cage’s body and precisely struck his bike’s fuel tank.

Sizzle!

The fuel ignited from the sparks of friction, and then—

Boom!

A massive underwater explosion erupted as the fuel detonated. The gases produced by combustion exploded with terrifying thrust, blasting water, fish, Evelyn, Cage, and the Hell Mammoth all into the air!

Crash!

The Hell Mammoth was hurled up by the spray, then smashed down onto the riverbank with a thunderous clang.

Then came two landing sounds.

Evelyn landed lightly on the bank, reaching up to remove her yellow cat-ear helmet—already shattered by the blast.

Cage, on the other hand, slammed heavily into the ground, even cracking the concrete into a spiderweb pattern.

Good thing he’d gained some demonic power from trading with an original demon—otherwise that fall would’ve flattened him into a pancake.

“Kids are such a pain…”

Evelyn sighed, turning to look at her fallen mount, the Hell Mammoth.

The front tire had long since been destroyed by the flames, and the reinforced frame was badly warped from the impact.

“Wonder if it can still be fixed…”

She shook the water from her hair as she walked toward the unconscious Cage. “I actually liked this bike.”

She crouched beside him and yanked off the brass coin hanging around his neck.

Snap!

The moment the necklace broke, fireworks suddenly exploded across the sky.

“It looks like our final winner is the dark horse of this race—Mr. Dante!”

The host’s frenzied voice boomed through loudspeakers, powerful enough to send ripples across the water beneath the bridge.

Evelyn looked down at the coin in her hand. The delicate ram-skull relief on its face was dyed with the shifting colors of the fireworks.

“Cyril crossed the line!”

Puchi suddenly flapped down and perched on Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Have you ever seen this thing before?” Evelyn asked, tossing the coin into the air.

“Never seen it…” the stupid bird said, tilting its head as it examined it for a long while.

“Then why are you staring at it for so long?”

“I’m just confirming whether I’ve seen it or not!”

“You’re so useless…”

The coin fell back into Evelyn’s hand, revealing the scales engraved on its reverse.

For some reason, she felt like she’d seen this coin somewhere before. But where?

It seemed like…

At home.

Not her shabby rental—but the Nianhog Estate.

There was an identical coin in the Nianhog Estate.

“How am I useless?!” Puchi suddenly flapped and squawked. “If it weren’t for me, could you have snuck past Sera to enter the race?!”

Halfway through its rant, it abruptly froze—like someone had hit a pause button.

Its bird head slowly, awkwardly turned. Its beady little eyes looked at Evelyn.

Only then did it remember—it had left the VIP viewing room, and the barrier had long since failed when it did.

Which meant…

Sera might have already noticed.

“Um…”

It spoke awkwardly.

“Shut up!”

“Oh…”