Evil Awe-Inspiring 78 A Stranger Racer

I just laughed and didn't say anything. It can be seen that this fellow is now the brother 4 in this circle that everyone reveres. But at that time, he was only the bald little 4.

"I see!" Her eyes are s.h.i.+ning and she smiles at herself and says, "It must be you and him were racing motorcycles! Then you win, he couldn't even catch up with your taillights! As a result, he fought with you with hatred, and you broke his leg?'

"No,"

"Then... It must be the two of you who raced the motorcycle and went through a lot of dangers along the way. As a result, he broke his leg because he couldn't compete with you and suddenly had a car accident!" The little girl still looks up at me.

I laugh in spite of myself: "You've seen too many racing movies."

Later, I refuse to say whatever she asks, but her interest grows higher and higher. I just have found that women's curiosity is really terrible! Whether it's an eighty-year-old grandma or an eighteen-year-old girl, their curiosities are really the same terrible! If I haven't pulled her, I'm afraid she would have gone straight to ask the Bald 4.

Stimulated by curiosity, she gives full play to her wisdom and intelligence, and makes a serious a.n.a.lysis: "You said you broke his leg, then he must hate you very much! But you're here as if you aren't afraid at all... This is his territory! Are you not afraid that he will take a bunch of people to sc.r.a.p you? You're not afraid of his revenge at all? And there must be a reason for that!"

I have to say that her a.n.a.lysis is getting closer and closer to the facts. I just laugh and still speak nothing.

After ten o'clock in the evening, all the motorcycles turn on their lights. Dozens of lights turn into countless lamp posts. Then, in all directions, there are deafening pop music in the sound of many motorcycles. Bottles of wines are drunk. Here becomes a big carnival party!

I've been following Dorra around, checking the time, and looking for the opportunity to pull her back home. But she just drinks and talks with several cla.s.smates, dances, and does nothing out of the ordinary. So I can't be too strict with her.

I know, in a moment later, the motorcycle race is about to start!

Motorcycle racing drivers in this city usually leave late because the traffic police are off work at that hour, and the choice of motorcycle racing section is also crucial. The roads with the least street lights, the widest road and the least traffic flow should be chosen. Generally speaking, the three main roads from east to south are the best racing roads at night. Here can drive all the way from the hillside to the South Gate of the city.

Dozens of motorcycles start to roar, and some simply drive around the lake, usually a little gangster drive, with a little girl behind. The girls are basically half standing, some play crazy, simply take off their underwear and wave in their hands, arousing screams and cheers around.

Generally speaking, the racing group's motorcycles modify the throttle line, mostly above 250CC. Because the m.u.f.fler has been removed, the sound of the motor has been put to the maximum, and the roar has stimulated the blood of these people.

Dorra's face is also red now.

Finally, the race is starting.

There are not too many rules for this kind of motorcycle racing. You can go on a cart if you like. There are also some private gambling. Generally speaking, people around you can bet money on winning or losing. It is a kind of peripheral gambling. The bets here are not big. Generally speaking, the bets are all below one thousand. But with so many people's bets, the total amount is huge!

And I find Little 4 is the dealer here!

"It seems he's doing well here." I sigh.

Motorcycle racing is nothing. A little mess, as long as he has money to buy a good motorcycle, can be a part of it. Because the city's motorcycle race is mostly low-tech, good cars can occupy an absolute advantage. But to be a dealer to host a gamble, this force is not ordinary!

Looking at Dorra's excitement, I can't help asking, "Have you raced too?"

She is stunned and sighs, "No... My baby isn't good enough. My hound can't compete in speed."

I am a little relieved, but then she says, "But I often gamble, I always win!"

"Oh?"

"Of course!" She pulls me through the crowd. Inside has cleared out a runway, a row of racing motorcycles have been arranged, are doing the final debugging, probably a gambling game is also about to start.

She takes me to the front of the crowd, looks at the motorcycles for a long time, listens carefully, and comes up to me in a mysterious way and says, "I already know who can win!"

"Who?"

She looks confident and points quietly to the fourth one, a Suzuki 7AA, which is a more advanced motorcycle here. She says with a grin, "That's it. I've seen it. It's super cool! In third gear, if the throttle is a little bigger, it's easy to get over a hundred yards! You listen to him shunting now, the engine sounds so d.a.m.n good! Absolutely refitted!"

I pretend not to hear her rudeness and tell myself to take it slowly. It's only a slight fault to say rudeness! Don't mind too much. However, the little girl probably realizes that she has said rude words. She looks at me very carefully, and sees that I have no reaction, so she is relieved.

I deliberately laugh and say, "You seem to know motorcycles well?"

"That's it!" Immediately, she is in high spirits again: "This Suzuki 7AA is my favorite! You see, its exhaust pipe is retrofitted. The performance is absolutely top-notch!"

Then she looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes and whispers, "Hey, don't you really not race motorcycles?"

"No!" I shake my head.

"Cut!" The little girl is very unhappy and pulls over a little b.a.s.t.a.r.d who is receiving bets next to her: "No. 4, I'll bet 500!" Then she is going to take out her wallet.

I quickly grab her and whisper, "What are you doing?"

"Betting!" She gives me a sidelong look: "Make a profit! This is a winning motor!"

I laugh and suddenly say, "I say it won't win!"

"What?"

I look into her eyes and say, "I bet with you, the Honda NSR in the sixth will win."

"Ah?" She is apparently stunned and opens her mouth in surprise: "That NSR? Impossible! Do you make a mistake? NSR short track speed-up is good, but there is no advantage in running. And I don't think I've ever met the person who drives this NSR. He's new here, isn't he?"

I take a breath and look at the NSR. The rider is wearing a black coat and a pair of protective goggles on his head. Motorcycle racing here, wearing a helmet will be laughed at! I look at the man with a flickering eye, stare at him for a minute, then look back at her and smile, "Are you gambling?"

"Good!" She has the interest and says, "I bet 7AA wins! You bet that NSR wins! If 7AA wins, you promise me one thing!"

"What?"

She is snickering: "You promise me to go off for a lap!"

"Good." I laugh and say, "If NSR wins... You have to listen to me one thing too!"

"What?"

I laugh and say, "Now I won't say, you have to promise me one thing anyway! Anything! No repentance!"

"Will I be afraid of you?" She raises her eyebrows.

I don't let her give out the money. Just take it as a private bet between us.

Kidding! I know that the 7AA must not be able to win the NSR. How can I let her throw 500 money in vain?

After a while, someone announce the race ready to start loudly with loudspeakers, the crowd back up, and the riders push their motorcycles down to the road. The tall girl in the skirt next to the Bald 4, carrying a red light in her hand, goes to the middle of the road and makes a very coquettish gesture.

For a moment, the roars of the motors come and go, and then, when the red light turns off, all the motors are speeding out!

The 7AA accelerates so fast that it drives to the first one!

Dorra is jumping with excitement, screaming and laughing. I stand by her carefully and light myself a cigarette. I look across the street. Little 4's bald head is very conspicuous in the light. A few younger brother-like people are following him. He and the betting guys are whispering something, and a triumphant smile appears on his face.

Hum, this fellow, is still playing with the same conventional methods!

If I hadn't been in this circle before, I would surely be betting on the 7AA like Dorra today!

In fact, it's very simple. If you are a dealer, you'll try to cheat all the times. Otherwise, where can dealer make money?

Most people, at least these people do know the motors, can see that the 7AA is absolutely the best performance one. They will naturally bet money on it!

If this motorcycle wins, won't the Bald 4 lose money?

How can there be that easy?

Generally speaking, those dealers will control the gambling games! For example, the NSR I've been observing for a long time is definitely the "outside horse" that Little 4 invited for tonight to control the gambling game!

The so-called "outside horse" is actually a special term of this circle. Generally speaking, these guys are really good riders! Some of them are high-price invited from other places, with new faces, some unknown masters who seldom appear in local circle of motorcycle racing. Some big gambling games, the dealers will even pay to Macau to find professional drivers to control the games!

These amateur motorcycle racers can hardly be rivals of the professional racers. After all, the stories of street racers who can beat professional racers only appear in the movie. It's all made up!

And unfortunately, I've seen through tonight. I know the rider who drives the NSR, the "outside horse" who Bald 4 invited tonight.

Tonight's racing section is a total of four streets, a total of more than 20 kilometers back and forth, the section is not long, each section has been arranged people to keep news updated!

Not long ago, the first message comes back.

"Park junction... NSR leads, 7AA second, one parking s.p.a.ce behind. NSR speed-up is very fierce, the short-track advantage is very strong, 7AA is now catching up, following the long street running up, I believe 7AA can have a chance to overtake!"

Someone finishes the announcement with a loudspeaker, and immediately causes a burst of shouting and cheers, while some others are cursing.

Dorra is still talking hard: "NSR short-track speed-up is just strong! There's a long street behind. Look who is better finally! Hum! "

I laugh and say nothing. Just smoke calmly, but I can't help but see the Bald 4 on the other side shoot me a cold eye!

"At the gate of the city, NSR continues to lead! The advantages are gradually expanding! Second Group 7AA is in the lead, CB400 is catching up! Fx.x.x! That NSR is absolutely amazing tonight! How is it possible to lead in the long track too?"

When the second message comes, Dorra's confidence is crushed. A lot of people who bet on 7AA are cursing, and some even start smas.h.i.+ng bottles with anger.

She stares at me for a long time and pulls me to one side: "Chen Yang... You... How did you guess that? You must know something about it, don't you?" Seeing that I am silent, she grabs my arm and shakes it forcefully for several times. "Can you tell me? Please!"

I look around and say with a low laugh, "I know the rider who drives the NSR. I haven't seen that motor, but I'm sure his tires are different from those of others."

"Oh?"

"First of all, that guy's habits I know, he is a master, the children here can't be his opponents, at least he's skilled. Although his NSR is general, but the tires are all nitrogen-fueled! This is more professional than others! Nitrogen-filled tires are not easy to heat up and shrink, and have small deformation range. They can maintain stable tire pressure, improve the stability of tires while driving, and ensure driving comfort. This is an important advantage. As for the performance of the 7AA motorcycle you mentioned, it's only under normal circ.u.mstances. The real master does not only compete the performance of the motor, but also the driving skills with you!"

"But... We don't know the guy who drives the NSR. Where does he come from?"

I glance at her and say, "What do your little babies know? Do real masters scream and drive around like you? What is a master? Every master does not become visible in his daily life. He just shows at a critical moment!"

After a pause, I come up with another fact that shocks her: "That fellow who's driving NSR, I've known him for years. He used to drive No. 13 bus in the city."

This almost chokes her to death by her own saliva.