Era of Mist

Amidst the commotion, fifty-six names were written on the blackboard, filling it completely. Looking at the names—Chinese, Japanese, and American—it was clear that the Japanese were the most numerous, followed by the Americans, with the Chinese being the fewest.

Shi Tiexin’s Biker Gang was ranked thirty-seventh.

’Looking at this blackboard, is this the ladder I’ll have to climb?’ Shi Tiexin looked above his own name. There, a Japanese name was written: Sakado Genzaburō, with his nickname noted next to it—Ghost Lord.

"Him," Shi Tiexin said, pointing at the Ghost Lord. "Issue the challenge."

"What if he doesn’t accept, Boss?"

"Then send him the Red Samurai’s head." Shi Tiexin’s will was iron. "Provoke him. Infuriate him. Tell that Genichiro that if he doesn’t have the guts to show up, he can write me a big fat ’I Submit’ and stay out of my way whenever he sees me from now on."

’I’m going to let all of Tokyo know that I, Shi Tiexin, have arrived.’

Fights among Biker Gangs were common. In especially chaotic districts, street brawls reminiscent of a free-for-all demolition derby weren’t unheard of. But every walk of life has its high and low roads. For Biker Gangs, street brawls and bloody fights were the low road. The high road—and the more widely accepted method—was racing.

Speeding was in their very name; flying across the pavement was a bike’s true nature.

From the moment the motorcycle was invented, it carried humanity’s dreams and spirit of flight.

The unrefined Biker Gangs, of course, didn’t care. But the ones who valued rules, the ones with the true soul of a biker, all recognized the outcome of a race. To them, a race was the most honorable form of duel.

Shi Tiexin’s challenge received a swift response. He didn’t even have to bring out the Red Samurai’s head; Sakado Genzaburō immediately accepted the contest.

The two sides agreed to race through the city streets.

At eight o’clock the next evening, the city block erupted in noise. Professional bikers and curious teenagers gathered in a massive crowd on the street. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. The pounding rhythm of dance music spilled out from the clubs onto the pavement. Countless teens with dyed hair showed off on their flashy, colorful, light-up bikes. Scantily-clad beauties gathered in groups; every street gathering was a place of passion and release.

"Boss, the route is blocked off. Here’s the map."

A map was presented to Shi Tiexin. He glanced at it, and a progress bar instantly appeared on his driving interface. The bar flashed and filled in an instant, and a notification popped up: [MAP RECORDED].

Now, he could pull up the map from his driving interface whenever he wanted.

𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Suddenly, a clamor arose from up ahead, and flashes of light pollution pierced through the crowd. Shi Tiexin looked up to see over fifty motorcycles approaching from the opposite side. Each one was decked out with so many light strips that they were blinding in the night.

At their head was a young Japanese man, around twenty-four or twenty-five years old. He was tall for a Japanese person, with his long hair piled on top of his head in a style that resembled a French loaf.

Shi Tiexin couldn’t help but want to laugh. ’It seems all the delinquents in Japan like this look. No idea who they learned it from.’ (Legend says they learned it from Elvis Presley, but who knows if that’s true.)

SWISH. The young man dismounted his glittering bike and strutted over arrogantly. The moment he opened his mouth, out came halting, broken Chinese: "Which wun is da leadah?"

His men immediately looked toward Shi Tiexin.

"Iz you, no know youah own strength, challenge Grandpa Li?"

’Grandpa Li? And I’m the bloody Pope.’

Shi Tiexin stood up. As he rose, he seemed like a pillar holding up the sky, his presence instantly crushing the man with the loaf-hair. Shi Tiexin didn’t even have to strike a pose. He just activated his Gui Jianchou expression pack, his huge eyes glaring down imperiously. "You’re Sakado Genzaburō?"

The loaf-haired man couldn’t help but take two steps back, startled. Then he pushed forward again, forcing out tough words: "Dat’s right, it’s me! If you looz, you gib me... youah bike." He glanced at Shi Tiexin’s motorcycle, his greed completely undisguised, then provoked him, "You dare?"

"Fine." Shi Tiexin was completely unfazed. "If you lose, I don’t want your piece-of-shit bike. But you have to change your nickname. From now on, whenever you see me, you will call yourself ’grandson’."

’Who does he think he is, calling himself ’grandpa’? This little punk dares use that title in front of me? He should be calling *me* grandpa, that’s more like it.’

"Fine!" The loaf-haired man waved his arm, his large cape rustling behind him. "It’s a deal!"

The crowd immediately grew excited.

The young girls shrieked, the young punks hollered, and the two professional Biker Gangs stood clearly apart. One side was a mess of flashing lights; the other was much more composed.

CRACKLE. Two flares were lit, spewing smoke and sparks as they were placed at the starting line.

The two bikes pulled up to the starting line.

VROOM, VROOM. Sakado Genzaburō deliberately revved his engine, looking over with a provocative stare.

"You... cannot win... against me!" Sakado Genzaburō seemed to be trying some psychological warfare. "Youah bike, too heavy. Too slow in turns. Not flexible. Mine... lightweight!"

Shi Tiexin glanced at him, paid him no mind, and put on his own helmet.

The underlings on the other side burst into laughter, shouting in their foreign tongue, apparently mocking Shi Tiexin for wearing a helmet. But Shi Tiexin completely ignored them. Not only did he put on his helmet, but he also zipped up a professional racing suit.

’There are a thousand roads to take, but safety is number one; one wrong move and your loved ones weep. You posers, what do you know about my kind of speed?’

Just then, a long-legged beauty sashayed to the front of the starting line. Her tiny hot pants and tank top were sizzling, and her hips swayed in circles as she walked, drawing whistles from many of the young men. She had a cute, delicate face, exquisite makeup, and perfect, model-like proportions. She was a real beauty.

But Shi Tiexin only gave her a glance and felt she was a step down from the girl at the gym. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just felt they were on different levels.

"I’ll be starting the race today!" the beautiful girl announced in perfect Mandarin. With one hand on her hip and the other holding a small flag, she first pointed at the loaf-haired man. "Ah you readee?"

"Readee, readee!" Genichiro stared at the girl, his spirits soaring. "Vely readee! Beauty, when I win, we go for a ride?"

The beautiful girl ignored him, shifted her pose, and pointed the flag at Shi Tiexin. "Are you ready?"

"Ready." Shi Tiexin’s reply was concise, no nonsense. He just lowered his upper body, hugging the motorcycle.

"Then get ready~~~" The beautiful girl raised the small flag high, then swung it down sharply. "GO—!"

ROOOOAR!

The thunderous sound startled the nearby crowd. SCREEECH! Amidst the ear-splitting sound of friction, blue smoke rose from the Black Venerable’s rear tire. When the smoke cleared, Shi Tiexin had already shot straight ahead, taking the lead. Sakado Genzaburō’s little motorcycle was left behind, trying in vain to catch up, but it was a hopeless chase.