The winding mountain road in Mo City is sparsely populated at night, with vehicles usually speeding arrogantly, especially high-end sports cars worth tens of millions. In anyone's hands, the temptation to step on the gas is irresistible, often forgetting the furious numbers on the dashboard, treating the sports car as if it were a fighter jet.
Su Ziceng himself has reached up to 180 mph in the middle of the night, the engine sound even slightly less intense than before. Owning a top sports car means being prepared to pay hefty repair fees.
The taxi behind him was barely worth a hundred thousand, with a limited insurance coverage, even if the taxi driver gave all his possessions, he couldn't afford to pay for the fallen bumper.
"Which eye of yours saw Brother Shang speeding and drunk," after removing his glasses, the car owner had a pair of beast-like fierce eyes, sizing up Su Ziceng audaciously amidst Xuan Yv's defending remarks.
