American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Even after taking a private jet immediately after the game, it was still late at night by the time they returned to New York from Miami.

Chen Haisheng picked up the car from the private terminal’s parking lot and drove Li Wei and the others back.

"Just drop me off at MetLife Stadium," Li Wei said. "I need to pick something up."

"Should I come back to pick you up later, or..." Chen Haisheng asked.

"No need," Li Wei said after a moment’s thought. "It’s too late and it’s out of the way. You’d have to come back after dropping off Jin Heon and Uncle. Just head home after you drop them off."

Chen Haisheng shot Li Wei a grateful look and nodded.

Late at night, MetLife Stadium was deathly quiet, like the set of a horror movie. A colossal shadow loomed over everything, like a giant hiding in the darkness.

Li Wei made his way to the home team’s locker room and found his locker.

’This old guy is so secretive,’ he muttered as he opened the locker. ’Why not just send it to my house—’

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when a car key fell out of the locker. With his quick reflexes, he snatched it out of the air.

Li Wei placed the key in his palm and examined it closely.

’Tsk,’ he thought, looking at the logo on it. ’This is... I don’t recognize it.’

To be honest, he wasn’t particularly thrilled that the person in charge would give him something like a car, especially what looked to be a sports car.

First of all, with Li Wei’s height and shoulder width, it wasn’t that he *couldn’t* drive cars like Lamborghinis or Ferraris, but it was always a cramped experience.

He was six-foot-two, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs. Driving this kind of low-slung supercar would be extremely uncomfortable.

If he really had to drive a sports car, he’d probably prefer driving Anya’s Bentley Continental GT.

Even if this car was a gift, it would most likely just end up collecting dust in his garage, just like his 911.

Nowadays, if he drove himself, he took the Cullinan. If he was being driven, he’d ride in the Cadillac Escalade or in the back of the Cullinan. He hadn’t driven the 911 in over a month.

Li Wei, who had initially held some anticipation for the mysterious gift, now looked back into the locker with a touch of disappointment. Inside, pinned under something, was a letter.

He unfolded it and read:

"This is a small personal gift to thank you for your incredible performance in the game."

There was no signature, but Li Wei knew who sent it.

’Should’ve just given me cash,’ Li Wei thought, closing the locker. ’I’d have been more grateful for that.’

John Mara hadn’t told him where the car was, but Li Wei subconsciously headed for the VIP parking area. His own car was parked next to John Mara’s, so that had to be the right place.

When Li Wei, bag in hand, finally arrived at the underground garage, he stared at the iron behemoth before him, paused, and said:

"Hm... this looks pretty good."

Parked next to where his Cullinan usually was, sat a phantom beast that looked like a ground-hugging aircraft.

Under the dim garage lighting, its fluid body lines, devoid of a single superfluous angle, gleamed with the intoxicating luster of carbon fiber. The exaggerated aerodynamic front lip, the daytime running lights shaped like a predator’s fangs, and the massive, aggressive active rear wing and diffuser all silently declared that this was a machine not to be trifled with.

Li Wei glanced down at the heavy key in his hand. Its back bore a ghost emblem and a shield logo. He pressed the unlock button with his thumb.

CLICK.

Accompanied by the faintest of mechanical whirs, a scene unfolded that took Li Wei by surprise.

The car door didn’t swing outward like a normal sports car, nor did it pop straight up like a Lamborghini’s scissor doors.

Instead, as if possessing a sophisticated life of its own, it first slid outward, then, like the mechanical arm of a Transformer, rotated a full 90 degrees forward on its axis with an elegant, sci-fi flourish, coming to rest vertically beside the front wheel!

’Dihedral doors?’ Li Wei raised an eyebrow. ’Interesting.’

He walked to the driver’s side and habitually scrunched his broad shoulders, bracing for the constricting feeling of his lats being squeezed by a carbon fiber racing bucket seat.

However, the moment he actually squeezed his six-foot-two, powerfully built frame into the cockpit, the anticipated crampedness never came.

Not only was there ample clearance between his head and the roof, but even his exaggerated shoulder width was perfectly enveloped by the leather sports seat, which was even filled with memory foam. The comfort level was comparable to some luxury GT cars.

’I actually fit?’ Li Wei adjusted his seating position, surprised.

He glanced around. The interior was awash with top-grade leather and carbon fiber. Most importantly, the center console sported a sizable vertical touchscreen. He tapped it and, to his surprise, it had CarPlay!

’So high-tech!’

Li Wei took out his phone, snapped a photo of the shield logo on the steering wheel, and did a Google image search.

Soon, the true identity of this iron behemoth appeared on the screen—Koenigsegg Regera.

’Limited to 80 units, a plug-in hybrid, 1500 horsepower, starts at 3 million USD? And they’re impossible to buy even if you have the money?’

As Li Wei continued to search for information, he came across an interesting tidbit about the designer and suddenly understood why the casino had sent him this car. The founder of Koenigsegg was six-foot-three, so he had required the car’s dimensions to be far more comfortable than those of a Lamborghini or a Ferrari.