Meanwhile, on a desolate coastal highway—

BOOM!!!!

Ajin roared down the road on his motorcycle.

He felt everything.

The wind whipping against his face, the engine’s furious vibration, pebbles skittering under his tires, faint damp patches on the asphalt, a stray dog pissing by the roadside in the distance… His senses stretched out like an invisible net, capturing every rustle and tremor within a wide radius around him.

He wore nothing but goggles—no helmet, no extra gear. Anything unnecessary dulled his razor-sharp perception. His riding skills hadn’t improved much, but this amplified awareness let him master every inch of the track, even predicting opponents’ moves like a premonition. With this buff, he’d remain unbeatable unless facing a vastly superior rival.

This was the power he gained after making a deal with a demon named Zhao Daniu.

As for the price…

“Hmph. Just as I thought—I can’t quite remember…”

He’d gone to the beach with his parents and little sister when he was ten. They’d had a wonderful day. Now, he could only vaguely recall it existed, like a faded photograph.

Trading memories for power—one of the most common demon contracts.

Though demon deals varied wildly, they all followed the same principle: *sacrifice something meaningful to gain what’s otherwise unattainable*. At its core, no different from a business contract.

Thus, both the "payment" and the "reward" were negotiable. Demons were like human merchants—some honest, some crooked. Sly ones demanded entire souls upfront; kinder ones tailored the cost to minimize the human’s loss.

Ajin was lucky. Zhao Daniu was the honest type.

After negotiations, their contract read: *"Each use of enhanced senses costs memories. Every second of power erases thirty minutes of memory. The user may activate it freely while operating any vehicle, with unlimited uses. Less important memories vanish first; if equally important, older memories fade before recent ones."*

"Memories" were a light price, yielding only modest power—but enough. At his current usage rate, decades would pass before he forgot anything crucial. And he’d make new memories along the way. All in all, an incredibly low cost.

“How’s it feel, kid?”

Zhao Daniu waited roadside, legs crossed, puffing on a clay pipe. Ajin grinned in satisfaction—then his face darkened.

“I could’ve crushed that woman easily if some meddler hadn’t butted in! Should’ve asked for mind-twisting powers to make her worship my dick!”

“But twisting hearts or rewriting fate costs—”

“—a fortune. I know!”

“And ain’t yer ultimate goal dominating the world circuit as a pro racer? This power’s perfect~”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it…”

This super-sensory boost might not close gaps against elite pros, but crushing ordinary street racers? Effortless.

As for that amateur Yumo?

Not even worth mentioning! I could win with my dick steering the handlebars!

————————

————————

Meanwhile, the woman haunting Ajin’s thoughts locked eyes with his rival’s sister.

Women’s intuition was terrifying. Without proof, they sensed truths.

*“This woman isn’t someone I can coexist with.”* They both knew it instantly.

*(Two-faced purity act. Obedient little angel on the surface, chaos incarnate underneath.)*

*(Spoiled brat playing tragic heroine to justify her rebellion.)*

Their gut instincts delivered eerily accurate verdicts. Worthy opponents.

Then Yumo arrived.

“Who’s—oh. Tanglingxue?”

“Honored you remember me.”

“How’d you find my place? …Right. You messaged it on Weixin.”

“You forgot our meeting time. So I came.” A trace of displeasure colored Tanglingxue’s voice.

“Wasn’t it nine?”

“Seven *p.m.*. Did you even read my message?”

“Ah…”

It was already 6:30 p.m. Leaving now would make them late. Yumo glanced at the kitchen—Chen Xiang had just started thawing meat. He quickly told her to skip his portion, threw on his clothes, and hurried out with Tanglingxue. He wouldn’t keep a girl waiting.

“So… you’re his sister?” Tanglingxue asked before leaving.

“…Yeah. Problem?” Yuxin dropped her obedient act for once.

“Your brother. I’m borrowing him. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“……………………”

Yuxin’s glare turned icy. She shot Yumo a questioning look—*Since when do you have Ling Xue AND this woman?*—but he brushed her off with a flimsy excuse: “She’s bad at science. The school assigned me to tutor her as community service.”

After leaving, Tanglingxue insisted on buying him a burger at a roadside fast-food joint for dinner. Then she probed carefully:

“Yumo… your sister…”

“What about her?”

“Is she really your sister?”

“My family’s blended. She’s my stepsister.”

“Oh…”

Tanglingxue’s expression grew complex, thoughtful.

“Does she cling to you a lot?”

“? No. She pushes me away. We’ve never gotten along. Things just improved slightly recently.”

“Not ‘cling’… but ‘push away’?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“…Sometimes, affection means having no hidden agenda. Distance hides true feelings.”

“?? What’s this? Teenage girl psychology?”

“Forget I said anything. Don’t overthink it.”

“???”

Yumo stayed puzzled, but his attention shifted as their taxi reached the destination.

This vacant lot near the development zone would become luxury apartments someday. For now, it was just a wide, unfenced space—perfect for practice. Tanglingxue had her motorcycle delivered specially, ready to give Yumo hands-on lessons.

*(A motorcycle…)*

Yumo knew little about bikes, but he felt this machine’s raw beauty and power. Definitely not cheap.

No guy could resist a cool ride.

Especially when it came with a beauty.

Tanglingxue caressed her beloved bike. Moonlight traced the curve of her profile. Her gradient golden hair fluttered in the night breeze. Leaning against the motorcycle, her long legs were hypnotic—the strip of bare thigh between her hot pants and over-the-knee socks glowed like captured sunlight.

No wonder she was class beauty. No—without Jing Yiqiu and that foreign senior from Grade 12, she’d easily be school queen.

Yumo felt lucky to be near such a girl.

But the thought of driving a vehicle himself sparked a quiet resistance.

His mother’s fatal accident still haunted him. He wasn’t afraid of vehicles, but the idea of driving felt… wrong.

*(Why did I pick a fight with myself when drunk…?)*

He sighed, straddling the bike under Tanglingxue’s guidance, getting used to the feel of the machine beneath him.