Gisele didn't have Leon's skill, nor his unique attributes. She didn't dare floor the accelerator. Instead, she drove cautiously, like a novice on her first drive. Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, expression tense and focused, afraid that a single mistake would send the car flipping.
Compared to Leon, the gap was staggering—not just a little, but leagues apart.
With Gisele driving, Diomas seemed slow. Hattie and Elena, used to Leon's insane speeds, were frustrated. To them, Diomas now felt like a toddler learning to walk. Adults around were impatient. Leon's driving prowess was truly hopelessly terrifying. Competing against him was hopeless; even riding in his car was suffocatingly intense.
If 300–500 km/h was "violent," then 900 km/h was a true tyrant.
On the straight road, Shaw pushed his car to 400 km/h. Even at this speed, he was struggling—face pale, hands and feet weakening, the scenery a blur. Under these conditions, he couldn't last more than a few minutes. The car was pushing the limits of both vehicle and human.
Gisele, terrified, lifted her foot off the accelerator and slammed the brake. "It's more intense than a rollercoaster!" She gasped for air, drenched in sweat, unsure if it was from fear or intense focus.
"Speed still has room for improvement," Leon remarked casually.
"Wait, 400 isn't fast enough?!" Gisele's eyes widened in disbelief. "How many cars can even reach 400 km/h?"
She was losing her mind. Even sustaining 400 km/h for minutes was a challenge for other supercars, let alone public roads.
"Don't worry," Leon replied nonchalantly. "I drove at 900 coming here."
"900?!" Gisele shrieked in shock. Her mind couldn't comprehend it. No one had ever reached 900 km/h on a public road. It was Guinness-record territory.
For reference, the fastest real-world production car on public roads—the Koenigsegg RS—achieved 458 km/h (284.55 mph), with an average of 447 km/h over multiple runs, requiring a closed 11-mile (17.7 km) stretch and police assistance.
Leon, however, had done it without closing roads, on complicated terrain with curves, inclines, and declines—and avoided all collisions.
Gisele was utterly amazed.
Suddenly, car horns blared outside. Leon and Gisele looked—Shaw was driving his 720S, grinning, taunting: "Haha, your car can't keep up!"
Knowing Gisele was behind the wheel, Shaw couldn't resist teasing before Leon had to intervene. He revved the engine, full of bravado.
Gisele shot him a glare, wishing she could floor the gas and smash into his car.
"Go ahead, race him," Leon encouraged. "You'll win easily."
"Really? You're not worried it'll get wrecked?" Gisele asked.
"Even if it crashes, I'll replace it," Leon said confidently. He had survived crashes before in New York; for Diomas, these speeds were trivial. All safety systems and handling made even "high" speeds manageable.
"Alright!" Gisele excitedly shifted into gear, gently pressing the accelerator, testing her pace.
Diomas revealed its tyrant persona. Its engine roared with pure, overwhelming power, energy surging with every movement. Tires screeched on the asphalt as the car exploded with speed, reaching 300 km/h in seconds—a mere warm-up for the beast.
Gisele's eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed. The pushback from acceleration felt like a vigorous massage, thrilling yet controlled. Approaching a turn, she braked, handbrake on, executing a textbook drift. Dust spiraled behind the car. For Diomas, it was easy, but for any other car, this speed and maneuver would be astonishing.
Shaw, ahead, heard the engine roar behind him. Checking his rearview mirror, he saw Diomas slicing through at insane speed, tires spinning, exhaust spraying, engine howling. His 720S at nearly 300 km/h felt slow in comparison.
Even Leon's safety car, driven by Gisele, outperformed Shaw's McLaren with ease.
Shaw's mind raced. Leon had said he'd give away the car. If every teammate received a supercar like Diomas, Leon's crew would become the world's strongest team.
Shaw accelerated like a madman to try to catch up, but it was futile. Gisele, in complete control, reveled in the car's raw, tyrannical power.
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