Chapter 42 I Must Be Dreaming

Up ahead, watching the roaring Raptor pickup truck pull further away, the McLaren immediately surged into a new round of acceleration.

Its speed shot straight up from around two hundred and sixty kilometers per hour to nearly three hundred, and it was still climbing!

Seeing this, Gavin slammed his foot hard on the accelerator and roared at Eugene.

"Fucking hell, his car is faster. Shoot at him, suppress him!"

"I know, dammit! I really fucking should've brought a rifle!"

Eugene yelled back in curses, immediately aiming his loaded Colt Python straight ahead and firing off a string of shots.

Unfortunately, the effective range of a SCAR assault rifle was between five hundred and six hundred meters, with an extreme range stretching nearly a thousand meters.

Meanwhile, the effective range of the Colt Python and Eugene's lever-action shotgun were fifty meters and forty meters respectively, and their absolute limits were only two hundred and one hundred and fifty meters. How could they possibly compete with a SCAR?

With that thought, Gavin gritted his teeth and glanced at the speedometer. The Raptor's speed had already hit three hundred kilometers per hour.

Even if Madison's Raptor had been modified, it could probably only reach a maximum of around three hundred and ten.

And the McLaren...

If Gavin remembered correctly, the McLaren was capable of doing at least three hundred and forty or even three hundred and fifty!

True to form, as the McLaren accelerated further, the closing gap between the two vehicles instantly stagnated.

Following that, the distance between them began to widen!

Having finally closed in to two hundred and ten meters, Gavin watched it stretch back out to two hundred and thirty meters in a mere two seconds.

"Fuck!"

Gavin cursed viciously, then glanced over at Eugene, who was busy reloading, and barked, "Give me the gun!"

"Are you sure? Shit! Drive carefully then!"

Eugene handed the freshly reloaded Colt Python to Gavin. Gavin kept one hand on the steering wheel while immediately raising the gun with the other to try and take aim at the McLaren.

Seeing this, Eugene quickly crossed his chest in a hurried Hallelujah gesture, then went back to stuffing bullets into the pistol and the shotgun.

Eugene couldn't help but be terrified. After all, when a car's speed soared past three hundred, even a tiny pebble on the road could send it spinning out of control and flipping over!

Even though they were currently on a highway, absolute safety was out of the question.

And Gavin... he was gambling on precisely that.

After a brief, hurried aim, Gavin pulled the trigger.

Bang!

He missed, but that didn't matter. Gavin continued firing at a steady rate of one shot per second to maintain suppression on the McLaren.

While shooting, he shouted at Eugene, "Keep firing at him! I want to see how long he can keep driving like a maniac!"

"Shit, Boss, don't do this. I'm getting a little fucking scared!"

Hearing Gavin, Eugene swallowed hard, continuing to reload as he said, "I gotta advise you, sometimes there's no need to be this aggressive. I'm actually not even mad anymore. Being alive is better than anything, really!"

"Alive? Bullshit! I was almost killed! Just an inch away!"

Gavin replied irritably, firing his sixth shot as the Colt Python's magazine emptied once again.

He immediately tossed the python into Eugene's lap, reached out and snatched Eugene's revolver, and kept right on firing.

His sudden snatching motion nearly scared the urine out of Eugene.

"Don't... keep your hands on the wheel, I'm begging you! I'll shoot, I'll fucking waste him right now!"

Eugene desperately tried to stop Gavin while simultaneously raising his shotgun and blasting away.

At the same time, Gavin wielded Eugene's revolver and fired shot after shot.

Bang!

Crash!

Whose bullet finally found its mark remains unclear, but nearly two hundred and seventy meters away, the rear window of the McLaren shattered in response.

"Nice shot, keep going!"

Gavin roared as he continued to shoot, while Eugene clutched the shotgun in absolute panic, staring at the McLaren ahead and crying out, "Shit, stop risking your life, it's swerving! It's swerving!"

Right before Eugene's astonished eyes, after the rear window was blown out, the tail of the McLaren violently fishtailed.

Immediately afterward, the car lost its balance, swerving wildly across the road like a runaway snake.

Gavin kept his eyes locked on the McLaren, seizing the opportunity to close the distance once again.

Yet a full five seconds passed, and the McLaren still hadn't flipped.

Fortunately, though the car hadn't rolled over, its speed inevitably dropped a fraction, allowing Gavin to narrow the gap with the Raptor to roughly one hundred and forty meters.

In the passenger seat, Eugene finished loading the lever-action shotgun, quickly raised it, and pumped two more rounds into the McLaren.

Once the distance dropped within a hundred and fifty meters, the sheer power of the shotgun finally came into play.

With two thunderous blasts, the left rear tire of the McLaren violently blew out. In an instant, the car began to spin wildly like a top, even bouncing a couple of times along the way.

"Fuck!"

Watching the McLaren transform into a spinning top, Eugene roared in excitement.

"We can slow down now, Boss!"

Hearing Eugene's words, Gavin let out a breath and cast an amused look his way.

Scare you just a little and you already know how to call me boss?

Pushing the internal banter aside, Gavin gently applied the brakes to slow the Raptor down.

When the Raptor's speed dropped to around one hundred and forty kilometers per hour, the furiously spinning McLaren finally slammed into the roadside guardrail.

Scraping along the metal and throwing a brilliant shower of sparks and lightning, the McLaren gradually ground to a halt by the side of the road.

At that, Gavin pressed the brake pedal firmly, bringing the Raptor to a stop about twenty-five meters away from the wrecked supercar.

As soon as they stopped, he leaped out of the vehicle and ducked behind the front end of the Raptor to reload the Colt Python.

At the same time, he shouted toward the McLaren, "Is anyone in that car still alive?!"

"He's still alive, the son of a bitch. I can see him holding a rifle and still breathing. He's an absolute war god!"

Eugene hopped out to answer Gavin's question, conveniently swinging his door open to use it as cover.

The two of them hid like that for six or seven seconds, but no response came from the wreckage.

Seeing this, Eugene called out to Gavin, "Keep your eyes on him, I'm going to take a look!"

"Go."

Gavin waved a hand at Eugene, keeping the freshly loaded Colt aimed at the driver's seat of the McLaren.

Meanwhile, the man in the suit in the driver's seat of the McLaren was clutching a SCAR rifle, gasping for breath.

Eugene crept closer with his gun raised, observing the scene and muttering, "He's still alive, but looks like he won't last. Let me check the woman!"

With that, Eugene moved to the front of the McLaren and circled around to peek into the passenger side.

At the same time, Gavin emerged from behind his vehicle, holding his weapon as he walked over to the wreck.

The body of the McLaren was twisted out of shape, though the frame had held together fairly well.

The driver, still clutching his rifle, was covered in blood and coughing up mouthfuls of it. His ribs were undoubtedly shattered, and his lungs had likely been punctured by broken bone fragments.

Gavin shook his head, reached out to pull open the McLaren's door, shoved the deployed airbag aside, and leaned into the driver's arms to grab the SCAR.

Snatching the assault rifle away, Gavin tucked the python away, hauled the driver out of the seat by the rifle, and dragged him to the ground.

Simultaneously, Eugene yanked on the passenger door, cursing as he did so.

"Shit, the passenger side took a heavier hit, the door won't budge!"

Finished speaking, Eugene grabbed his shotgun and cleared away the remaining jagged shards of glass still clinging to the window frame, then hauled the woman in the red dress right out through the window.

"Woohoo, what a damn shame!"

After finally dragging the woman out, Eugene smacked his lips in disappointment and called out to Gavin from a distance.

"I was hoping for some Hollywood-style heroics, but this chick's lumbar spine is snapped. She's a goner."

With that, Eugene morbidly lifted the hem of the woman's dress for a quick peek.

"Aha, Boss, this chick isn't wearing any panties!"

"You fucking..."

Hearing Eugene's antics, Gavin, who was busy patting down the driver's body in search of spare magazines, cursed back in exasperation.

Unfazed, Eugene retorted brazenly, "What's wrong with me? I didn't even go for the fresh kill, isn't that considerate enough?!"

"On the bright side, this chick is drop-dead gorgeous. Boss, don't you want to come take a look?"

Shaking his head in lingering regret, Eugene reached out and gently patted the cheek of the woman in red.

"Hey," he asked the woman, who was still blinking feebly. "Can you still hear me? If you can, then I'm sorry, I can't save you. The best I can do is put you out of your misery a little sooner."

With that, Eugene let go of the woman and leveled the shotgun at her chest.

Back at the driver's body, Gavin fished out three magazines and shoved them tightly into his pockets.

He then walked over to the woman to check on her condition.

A single glance was all it took for Gavin to confirm she was beyond saving. Though she was lying flat on her back, her rear was facing the sky.

In short, her spine had been twisted completely around...

Seeing this, Gavin gave a casual wave of his hand.

"Send her off."