This was an exceptionally long straightaway.
On this stretch, drivers didn't need to think about anything else.
There was only one task—accelerate, accelerate, and accelerate again.
Burn every ounce of strength, exhaust every trick you have to keep going faster.
Break past the limit. Break past the peak.
That was the sole mission of any driver on this straight.
Kaga had already reached his limit.
But Leon hadn't.
Bit by bit, he closed the distance, gradually drawing level with Kaga's Phoenix.
Soon, the two cars were running side by side.
Kaga's expression darkened.
He didn't want to admit that even the Phoenix's performance was beginning to fall behind Leon's Tyrant…
But the truth slapped him in the face—he had no way to deny it.
"Damn it… does his car not suffer from drag at all?"
Kaga grit his teeth, eyes growing increasingly vicious.
"Just where is this guy's limit?!"
He had never faced an opponent like this—
Someone who could push him into a dead end,
Someone whose technique was monstrously high-level without the slightest hint of bluffing.
This kind of driver… was the most terrifying kind there was.
He originally believed that with the Phoenix in hand, this year's world championship was his.
But Leon had suddenly appeared mid-season—
And demonstrated a level of driving skill the Japanese Formula scene had never witnessed before.
He had rewritten the very definition of racing.
As Leon's Tyrant continued creeping forward, Kaga felt hopeless.
He had no way to stop him.
The speed kept climbing…
The readings might have already gone past 1000 km/h.
"Air-thrust module! Engage!"
Leon's cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave the command.
The Tyrant's air-compression boosters adjusted their angle—
Then detonated with a blast of ultra-compressed wind.
The stalemate shattered in an instant.
Tyrant surged ahead like a hurricane, flinging up sheets of water and distorting the airflow around it.
The Phoenix was immediately disrupted, forced to fight against turbulence.
Its speed dropped sharply.
Kaga stared blankly at Tyrant's tail lights.
His mind went fuzzy—almost like his soul had been blown away.
"He can… still accelerate…?!"
He trembled.
Leon's strength… terrified him.
Tyrant blasted past the Phoenix, streaking across a speed trap—
1020 km/h.
One thousand and twenty kilometers per hour.
A new peak.
The entire arena erupted.
Everyone shot to their feet, staring wide-eyed at the numbers on the display.
This was more shocking than seeing the Prime Minister of Japan walk into the venue.
One thousand kilometers per hour—
A speed no one in the history of Cyber Formula had ever achieved.
Leon was the first.
Kaga, Hayato, Shinjou Naoki, Randall—
Every top driver stared at the readings, stunned speechless.
His technique was advanced beyond comprehension.
Unmatched.
Overwhelming.
"And this is just qualifying!"
"Breaking records in the prelims—what kind of monster is he?!"
"The official race is going to be insane!"
"This is the Cyber Formula I want to see!"
The audience roared with excitement.
No one who witnessed this moment could remain calm.
Every yen spent on today's ticket had been worth it—they'd have bragging rights for ten years.
Leon continued rocketing forward like a missile,
Blasting through the four-kilometer Dream Straight in the blink of an eye.
Entering the centrifugal loop, he deactivated boost mode and returned to standard race mode.
The speed gradually decreased.
The centrifugal circuit's greatest danger came from the intense G-forces created by its continuous rotation.
They could affect heart rate, blood pressure, even bone stability.
If a driver's physical conditioning was insufficient, the excessive force could cause dizziness, oxygen deprivation, temporary blindness, or gums bleeding.
It was a track that pushed the body to its absolute limit.
But Leon?
His physique was already superhuman—every attribute over a thousand.
This kind of track didn't trouble him at all.
Tyrant dove into the circuit, unchallenged and unstoppable.
He ran the remaining laps with absolute ease.
Just as he predicted—
Once he took the lead, the rest of the race was already decided.
It didn't matter who placed second.
No one could touch his first place.
When all twelve laps ended, the organizers officially declared Leon the winner of the main qualifying stage.
Combined with his victory in Phase One,
Leon officially became the P.P. starter—the pole position for the official race.
His chances of taking the world championship soared.
"In the main race, I will defeat him!"
Kaga clenched his fists, eyes full of resolve as he stared at Leon's pit.
"He's strong… he's my target now."
Even though Hayato lost, the fire in his eyes only grew.
"He's the most terrifying opponent I've ever faced…"
Shinjou Naoki took a deep breath.
Even as a European F3 champion, he was forced to admit Leon's overwhelming power.
A powerful machine was one thing—
But without a driver of matching skill, even the strongest car was just a kitchen knife.
Only a true master swordsman could bring out the brilliance of a divine blade.
"We'll see in the main race," Randall growled, still stubbornly refusing to concede.
All of Leon's rivals now regarded him with complicated expressions—
But none of them dared underestimate him.
Not after witnessing him shatter the 1000 km/h barrier
And slap every one of their faces in the process.
Leon, meanwhile, felt incredibly satisfied.
Remembering how arrogant the Japanese commentators had been when he first arrived…
Now that he'd proven himself,
Watching them choke on their words was unbelievably cathartic.
No need for arguments—
His performance alone forced them to swallow every insult.
Dominance.
As Leon stepped out of Tyrant, his feet barely touching the ground,
A swarm of reporters rushed over like a tidal wave.
Cameras and microphones pointed at him from every direction.
"What are you feeling right now?"
"Is 1000 km/h your limit?"
"How fast do you plan to go in the official race?"
"Why did you come to Japan to compete?"
Hundreds of voices crashed on him at once, nearly blowing out his eardrums.
"Stop. Quiet."
Leon frowned, instantly silencing the crowd.
"The race isn't over. After the official match, we'll hold a proper press conference."
He chuckled.
"If you have questions, ask my agent. He's the Wolf of Wall Street—you get the idea."
With that, Leon slipped into the pit,
Throwing the problem onto DiCaprio.
Second-stage victory secured,
Leon was in a brilliant mood.
Mia ran over, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him fiercely—
She was ecstatic.
~~----------------------
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