Chapter 16

Whatever reluctance I had before starting the car completely evaporated when I was on the road. The car may not have been tuned to perfection, but without anyone in the car with me, and without a care in the world, I gave it as much gas I wanted. The car, like a beast freed, drank it in greedily and we soared through the streets of Outer Seoul. The streets of Outer Seoul were empty this time of the night, and I could go as recklessly fast as I wanted.

I was so ecstatic behind the wheel that the logistics of having a car, much less a stolen one, when I didn’t even have a home for myself never crossed my mind. I rolled the windows down to hear the engine growl and to feel the cool night’s wind whipping in. The joy of the road was so overpowering, I almost forgot that I wasn’t out for a joyride. Almost.

I steered the car towards Inner Seoul. On the highways, I could go even faster, but as I neared the more lively Inner Seoul, more and more cars began to appear on the road with me. I didn’t want to be reported before I had even gotten to New Banpo bridge, so I reluctantly slowed down.

I wasn’t as familiar with the roads of Inner Seoul, but following the signs was easy enough. As soon as I neared New Banpo Bridge (actually a skybridge) I knew I must be going the right way. More and more flashy (some downright gaudy) cars appeared. They, being more experienced, were much less reserved than I and sped past me on their way to the meet with deafening roars. They really didn’t care about drawing attention. They relished it. How did they avoid law enforcement?

Despite Minjae saying that the racers raced in Inner Seoul, New Banpo Bridge was actually probably considered Outer Seoul (on the far side of my Outer Seoul, so that’s why I had to drive through Inner Seoul). There weren’t any exact borders, as Inner and Outer were more colloquial terms than legally recognized district zones. The two zones had a strange relationship. The expensive and modern Inner Seoul constantly absorbed zones of “Outer” Seoul to demolish and rebuild. The closer you were to Inner Seoul, the “heart” of Seoul, the higher rent and cost of living became. And so the middle and lower classes of Outer Seoul were forced to constantly expand outwards to escape the constant push of Inner Seoul.

New Banpo Bridge might not be considered true Inner Seoul yet, but in a few years, it would be. But until then, the surrounding roads lacked the hustle and traffic of true Inner Seoul. I let the car speed up a little. If I was about to race, I probably needed to get used to the idea of racing on the streets, traffic or no. With my increased speed, I soon came to New Banpo Bridge.

I hadn’t really had any expectations of how many cars I would see at the meet, but there were a lot. The entire space where they had lined the cars in grouped rows was lit up with headlights. I had expected to see a lot of flashy cars, but surprisingly, more cars were like mine, pretty undecorated. The majority only had one or two minor aesthetic detailing, like a racing stripe. I could count the number of cars with heavy decals like Sungmin’s car and custom wraps on my two hands.

I immediately spotted his car in the line. Han Sungmin himself was sitting on the hood of it with his arms crossed, watching every car cruising in. Somehow he saw me and his face was astonished. He waved for me to park near his group. I didn’t trust his motivations for that, but I also didn’t want to look like a fool cruising around in circles looking for a gap in the line.

As I got out of the car, he approached, sans the woman he usually was with.

“Baek Jaehyun. So you did have a car, after all. Why the hell didn’t you say so?”

“Just got it,” I said. He looked at me like I was crazy. To be fair, I hadn’t been acting in a rational state of mind lately.

“Have you even tuned it yet?” he asked in disbelief.

“I’ve worked on it.” That wasn’t a lie. I had helped Do Hoon get it back up to speed. But I knew it wasn’t anywhere near as tuned or customized as most of these other cars.

“Ya!!! You’ve made it!” Lee Seol-hee flounced up to us. I was a little shocked by her outfit. Despite it being near late fall, she was in a neon two piece skirt and top set that had left her shapely legs and midsection bare. She at least had a heavy looking racer’s jacket thrown over herself. It was several sizes too big and probably belonged to her boyfriend, if she had one. To my surprise, she hugged me like we were long time friends, despite me never having said a single word to her.

She laughed again as she felt me awkwardly stiffen up again and let me go. She had a wonderfully light and feminine laugh. Han Sungmin gave her a bemused look. “You told him where to go, didn’t you, Seol-hee?”

They spoke casually in a friendly, teasing tone with each other like old friends. “Sungmin-nom. You know I hate letting a cute guy get away.” She smirked at him. Somehow, I felt my face grow hot.

Sungmin saw it and laughed, only exacerbating my embarrassment. “Don’t feel too special. Seol-hee does that to every guy.”

She punched him in the arm girlishly. As she flounced away, she shot back, “Not every guy. Just most.”

“Uh huh.” Sungmin was unfazed by her punch. “So Baek Jaehyun-nom.” Even though he used the same honorific that Seol-hee had used on him, I’m pretty sure he meant it more insultingly than she did. “What do you make of all this?” He gestured around him.

It was a lot of commotion. There were a lot of nice cars here. Groups of people were chatting and moving around presumably taking turns showing off their prized project car. I didn’t know anyone here except Sungmin (and Seol-hee I guess) and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t really on his good side. “I just want to race,” I said honestly.

He was disappointed in my answer. “You’ll be an ace drag racer. You’ve got a one-track mind.”

It was a joke and I went for the parry. “Anyone here up for doing that?” I was pretty sure anyone here could smoke me and my old Eclipse in a drag race. Hopefully my dry humor got through to him or I’d just look like a moron.

He laughed. Good, he got it. But a moment later, he said, “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not with the way you say things. But you’re a riot.”

Sungmin was actually a lot more friendly than I had expected, considering how I had just forced my way into his life. He continued to explain the scene a bit more to me. “We don’t actually race all that often. But if you do, you need to talk to Le Creuset.”

“Is he French or something?” The name sounded foreign and I felt a little disconcerted. My English was not very good.

“Nah. He’s over there.” Sungmin pointed to a short orange-haired guy decked out with a mobile streaming kit. He was surrounded by a cluster of people and chatting animatedly with them.

“Then why do you call him that?” I was genuinely curious.

“Because he’s the pot.” Sungmin looked at me expectantly. If it was some sort of joke, I didn’t get it.

“A… pot.” Despite the obviously dyed hair (the orange was shockingly neon), Le Creuset was definitely a small Korean man.

“Do I have to explain everything to you?” Sungmin said exasperatedly.

“No.” If his patience was wearing thin, I could just go straight to the source. I left him and started my way over to Le Creuset. I didn’t feel anything as I approached. Shy Jaehyun had not survived the events of the last few days. Sungmin huffed and followed me.

Le Creuset looked over at me as I walked over. His mini streaming drone turned to focus on me. Was he streaming this meet? Interesting. “Whoa! We haven’t seen a new face in a long ass time. Hey new guy, what’s your name?” His speech was incredibly exuberant and comfortable despite speaking to a total stranger.

Sungmin started to interrupt, but I answered immediately.

“I’m Baek Taejun,” I said. I swatted at the drone that was hovering uncomfortably close, but it detected my hand’s proximity instantly and dodged back easily.

Le Creuset made a strangled looking face and waved his drone off for a second. “Is that a fake name? Please don’t tell me it's your real name,” he hissed lowly so his mic couldn’t catch his voice.

“It’s not his real name,” Sungmin lied for me. No one had told me that I needed to have a fake name around here. How was I supposed to know? Le Creuset gave me a suspicious look and the drone returned.

“Tell us about yourself! You’re with King Exotic, so you must be with the Blue Tigers! But what do you drive? How did you get in with the Tigers?”

King who? The Blue what now? “I’m not with the Blue Exotic or King Tigers,” I said irritably. “Look, I heard you’re the one I have to talk to if I want to race.”

He was as bewildered as Sungmin had been yesterday when I said I wanted to race. For street racers, they always seemed incredibly surprised whenever someone actually said they wanted to race. But Le Creuset regained his composure quickly.

“Ooooh! New guy says he wants to race! What do you think chat? Is this guy legit? Or just a total poser? Sound off in chat!” Despite facing me, he wasn’t talking to me. He was clearly talking to his chat, wherever in the world they were. It was a strange experience for me. He laughed as he read his chat’s comments on his eyescreen. “You’re right, VinDieselv8. He’s probably a nutjob. Thanks for the coins!”

I waited for him to start talking to me.

“Chat’s excited,” he said happily. “We haven’t had a race in a while. But have you gone and challenged someone yet? You seem kind of clueless.”

I looked pointedly at the guys around him, but all of them backed up a step. Really? Even Sungmin gave me a sheepish grin when I gave him the look. Le Creuset frowned and tried to whip up some more interest.

“Alright, alright. You want to race for pinks, or for a pot?”

Neither option sounded appealing to me. What I needed was money.

Sungmin whispered to Le Creuset, “He’s new new. He doesn’t know anything.”

Le Creuset blinked and shot me a look. But he was well and truly a pro streamer, because he immediately spotted an equally hapless comment in his chat. “Hey sounddrop688! Welcome to the channel! Just for you, I’ll explain exactly what pinks are and how the pot works.”

“Alright on the streets, we either race for pinks, or the pot. Pinks are car titles. You win your race for your opponent’s pinks, you get his car. No takebacks! It’s the ultimate grudge race! But that doesn’t happen too often. More often, we race for a pot. The pot is cash money baby!” He rubbed his fingers together.

“Everyone who wants to bet puts their gamble into the pot. If it’s a 1v1, bets on the two racers must be equal amounts of money before we start. If we can’t get an equal number, either the race doesn’t go or we limit the bets to whatever the lower number is. Sorry~ Who organizes the pot? Why, me! And my pot, I give you the best return. If the racer you bet on wins, you get a 30% return on your original bet. Pretty good, eh? The rest of the money goes to our winner! And of course, I get a bit too for pulling the gambles in. Fair, right?”

Oh. So the pot was the money.

“So what’ll be, champ?” He turned back to me finally. “Pinks or pot?”

“Pot.”

At my answer everyone seemed to relax again. So they had been afraid of losing their cars. Understandable. Now that the stakes were lower, they all seemed eager to race me, the clueless newcomer. One guy stepped forward almost immediately. “I’ll race him.” He grinned at me. I’m sure he was confident in his full and utter victory.

“Black Doggie steps up to the challenge!” Le Creuset sounded positively elated. “You hear that guys? We’ve got a race on our hands! Tell your friends, pull them in! Let’s get this pot started. I’ll put the link on the screen right… there!” He poked the air with one finger as his other hand was pressing a button on his stream deck.

So finally, I had a race. Le Creuset was chattering away to the air noisily, encouraging it to invite their friends and to put money in the link. He seemed to be having trouble balancing the pot, because he also kept reminding them it had to be equal.

“Hey, don’t count the new guy out! Don’t you remember how confident he was? How about this? Since he’s new seed, let's up the stakes. If you bet on him and he wins, you get an additional 10% return. 40% return!”

My challenger had come up to me now to chat with me while we waited for the pot to be settled. “You ever race before?” he asked me.

I preferred not to answer to boost his ego more. Word of the race was spreading through the meet, and more and more people were gathering around Le Creuset. A few of them had their phones out, probably also contributing to the pot.

“I’m going to take that silence as no,” he said with a laugh. “You always so quiet, or you just nervous?”

“He’s either quiet or saying things so straightforwardly it's ridiculous,” Sungmin answered again. I gave him a peeved look. I’d spoken with him all of five minutes and he was acting like he completely knew me.

The other guy (Le Creuset had called him Black Doggie but I wasn’t about to start calling people weird names like that) chuckled, but thankfully didn’t say anything more.

I spotted Lee Seol-hee chatting with Le Creuset excitedly now. I wonder what she thought of me, showing up so abruptly demanding to race. If not for her interference, I wouldn’t have been here at all. But she wasn’t paying any attention to me.

It was an excruciatingly long wait before Le Creuset came running back to us. “Pot’s settled,” he said excitedly. “Chat loves you, new guy. We haven’t had a race for a while, so everyone’s hella hyped. We’ve got a good pot tonight! We’ve settled on a 27.5 million pot.” He rubbed his hands gleefully.

I stared at him with an open dumbfoundedness that had everyone around laughing. “Did you see that, chat! You did so well you turned his eyes into money signs!” Le Creuset laughed.

I wasn’t the greatest at math, but I remembered the figures Le Creuset had tossed out. I knew most of the money would be going back to the gamblers, but at least a third of the money would be split between me and Le Creuset. I didn’t know what portion he took. I probably should have asked him.

The sheer amount of money being played around in this race was astounding. Le Creuset must have a pretty huge following on his stream. Now I understood why he was the one who organized the pots. He could pull in numbers from viewers from all over Korea, maybe even further out than that. No one else here had that ability.

“Alright Doggie, you’re the challenged, so… Cat or mouse?” Le Creuset asked. I was really going to throw a fit if they kept throwing out weird names like this.

“Mouse,” he grinned.

He let a moderator take over his stream and chat to set us up. My opponent and I were directed to the street. As we pulled our cars over to the road, the other “racers” followed behind on foot, cheering and whooping. Most of them were cheering on Black Doggie. For some reason, I was directed to stop just behind my opponent’s car. That… definitely didn’t seem fair.

A giant, high speed drone was hovering above us now, making a deafening sound that could be heard even over Doggie revving his engine. It must have been Le Creuset’s. He seemed to have retaken his stream, because now he was pacing between us, talking in that annoyingly bright streamer voice of his.

“Hey gang, thanks for waiting! We’re all set up now so let’s explain the race! Old timers, you know this one already, but we’ve got a lot of new viewers since our last race, so bear with the refresher. We’re going to play Cat and Mouse!” The crowd watching cheered, so on cue, I wondered if Le Creuset was paying them.

“The Cat is going to chase the Mouse! If the Mouse can stay ahead of his opponent for 10 minutes, he wins! He can also win if he completely outpaces the Cat. The Cat’s goal, on the other hand, is to overtake the Mouse and keep that lead for at least 5 minutes! The timer resets whenever someone takes the lead, so it’s a battle of perseverance! Alright, got it? Alright, let’s let our lovely Chanel Cat come and count down our racers!”

Chanel Cat, who was actually just Lee Seol-hee, pranced out from the crowd to the sound of cheers. She had abandoned the jacket so now even her arms were bare. She must absolutely be freezing, but if she was, she didn’t show it.

To my surprise she approached my car. She had a smooth, languid like a model, and I stared a little lamely as she sauntered up to my window. I had rolled it back up in preparation for the race, and she tapped it. Confused, I rolled it down. Before I knew what was happening, she leaned down, tilted my chin up towards her and kissed me.

I’d never kissed a girl before, much less one as beautiful as Lee Seol-hee. Immediately I felt my pulse spike, but whether it was from nervousness or excitement, I didn’t know. Her lips were soft against mine and she pushed towards me insistently. Just when I thought my heart was going to burst, she let me go. She admired her handiwork (my extremely flustered face) with a charming little smirk and sauntered off.

“Look’s like Chanel’s chosen new guy as her favorite to win tonight! What a surprise!” I could barely hear Le Creuset over the pounding of my pulse. As she passed Doggie’s car, he leaned out and whined teasingly at her. She tilted her head up haughtily and took her place at the front (safely to the side of our lineup). She struck a pose, and I finally noticed that she was holding a flag.

I was so distracted by her advances toward me that I missed the moment she shifted, dropping the flag.

Doggie’s car screamed into life, and with a screech of its tires, it took off with blazing speed. Damn it! I floored the accelerator of my Eclipse in hot pursuit before he could take off too far.

If my pulse had been pounding from Seol-hee’s kiss before, now it was surging with adrenaline. Even though Do Hoon had always complained that I drove fast, I’d never let my car go with such a lack of restraint before. I anxiously watched the RPM on the tachometer. It was shocking how quickly the meter rose. In a matter of seconds I was in third gear. The next half minute I had to jump up to fourth.

The starting point must have been specifically chosen to allow the drivers to achieve speed quickly. It started off in a long straight shot. But the moment we came across an intersection, the lead car could choose any route he wanted.

Doggie’s tires squealed and hot smoke billowed behind him as he turned sharply, burning hot tire tracks onto the road. For a moment I thought for sure I was about to spin out on the first turn, but I slammed down hard on the clutch and I felt the friction of the wheels holding onto the pavement. The rear of my car started to swing out, I jerked the gear back down through the turn and I heard my engine scream from the sudden choke. I toed the throttle and managed to keep the RPM steady. My car and I accelerated sharply and cleared the turn, still hot on Doggie’s tail.

I glanced at the clock. A minute had passed. I had always been hardwired to keep a safe distance between cars, but I didn’t know how much distance was allowed, and besides that, my goal was to overtake Doggie. I urged my car dangerously close to Doggie’s bumper. If he decided to slam his brakes now, both of us would have a devastating collision.

Every one of my nerves were on fire. Any slight movement on the steering wheel jerked the car left or right on the road. I had to play the accelerator with utmost precision to maintain the extremely delicate distance between me and Doggie’s rear bumper.

Doggie must have been an experienced Mouse, because the road we were on gave me no room to pass him. I panicked as I watched another minute pass with no opportunity to overtake him, if I even could.

Another minute passed, and panic and desperation both clutched me. Each sharp turn we slid through seemed to sear me with another shot of adrenaline. And yet, as we raced, though I had not yet gained on him, each new shot made my blood sing with the exhilaration of the knife’s edge we danced on.

The fourth minute, the road finally connected back onto a two lane road. Even at this late night, there were still cars on the road. I felt a rebellious thrill as we blew past a car in the incoming lane with speed that shook my car from the pass.

A hot flash of anxiety slammed into me as I realized there was a car on the road ahead of us that we were approaching with our lightning speed. I wondered what Doggie would do. I doubted we were going to brake politely for that car.

As expected, at the last possible moment, Doggie swung his car out onto the incoming lane. The last second speed at which he made the lane exchange caused his car to swerve dangerously. I had no time to worry about whether he was going to regain control of his car, but I hoped like hell he would, because I had made the lane change too now, and now my only options were to crash either into Doggie’s ass, or the other guy.

The milliseconds that passed felt so much longer, but fortunately for both of us, Doggie regained control and urged his car even faster to overtake and regain the right lane again. I followed, and somehow despite all of the concentration I had on driving, I managed to take note how Doggie had struggled with that fast last-minute lane change.

Another minute had passed, and if Doggie was the Cat, he would have won. The thought spiked me with more desperate panic. I had to overtake on this two lane road, or else he might take us on another journey through one lane roads that would be near impossible for me to pass him on, and for an undetermined amount of time. He was much more familiar with these roads than me.

Despite my thinking that, with a screech of burning rubber, he had turned us onto another road, which was another single lane road. I cursed mentally as I had to follow him into the turn. To my surprise, as my Eclipse screamed its protest at the sharp gear change once more, I found that I had made the turn much sharper than Doggie had, and now the front of my car was past his bumper.

At such speeds, the slightest collision from the side could send one or both of us spinning into a horrific crash, but I wasn’t willing to give up the ground I had gained, small as it was. The left wheels of my car hovered dangerously on the lip of the road, and I had to focus even more to keep her steady as the left wheels bumped along unevenly.

The sheer amount of focus I needed to keep my car steady as I was sandwiched between Doggie’s rear bumper and the lip of the road was not sustainable. I had to force Doggie to give me more room. I put the slightest amount of pressure on the steering wheel and my Eclipse inched toward Doggie’s car. For a moment we were caught in a battle of wills, but centimeter by centimeter, I crept ever closer. I knew he could feel from the increasing wind pressure on the back right of his car how close I was getting, and Doggie eventually lost his nerve and eased over.

I took the inch in victory and decided to go for the mile. Despite my relative safety compared to my cramped situation before, I nudged my car yet closer to Doggie, forcing him over, centimeter by centimeter like a reverse tug of war. At the same time, I pushed my car to go faster even though its limit to gain inches alongside him.

Though Doggie’s strategy had probably been to keep us on single lane roads, his nerve broke from my constant pressure, and he changed us back onto a two lane. I knew my time was running out, and I desperately hoped for a favorable situation.

But now Doggie had the upper hand of positioning on me, and decided to employ my own strategy against me. He pushed towards me, intent on forcing me to either drive in the incoming lane, or cede my position. Despite my resoluteness before, as the right side of my car started to shake with how close he was getting, my hardwired instinct for safety kicked in, and I started to give in, inch by inch.

An incoming car hurtled toward us. I was just over the line now, and it blared its horn at me as it swerved to avoid hitting me. My Eclipse shivered between the two cars, and even though we had only passed the incoming car for a moment, the collision of our windbreaks shook my car and I almost swerved back into Doggies’s car. I gained on him considerably now, and I could see him grinning at me.

I couldn’t give up any more ground. Any more and the next car might not have the reaction speed to avoid me. But still Doggie pressed in towards me. I steeled my nerves and refused to move away. By now we had been racing alongside each other for so long that our windbreaks were one, but even then I was keenly aware of the tiny slice of space left between us. He reached his limit before I again, and with a whisper of room between us, stopped trying to push me.

My heart almost stopped when we crested the next hill. We were gaining on a car in front of us. Now I had the positional advantage again. Doggie sensed it as well instantly, and his car roared as he downshifted to force more acceleration. As if I would let him! I disengaged fourth gear, and the moment my foot on the throttle pushed the RPM to just the right amount, I jerked the gear down. My Eclipse howled with delight and surged forward to match Doggie’s car. In fact, we even gained a little more on him.

I kept him in our lane even as we raced towards the car in front forcing him into two choices. Brake, and cede the lead so he could get behind me into the incoming lane. Or, crash into the car in front trying to test my resolve.

We were eight minutes in and this was the first real chance I had at overtaking him. I held steady as we devoured the road between us and the car in front. Every instinct of self preservation I had screamed at me to brake, or at least go into the incoming lane early, but I fought it second by second, determined to force Doggie to brake.

In four panting breaths for me, and probably two for Doggie, we would crash. And suddenly, the car in front panicked at our relentless approach and its brake lights flashed red.

Instantly, Doggie braked, and smoke seared off his tires as they screeched against their sudden loss of RPM.

I swerved onto the incoming lane, and in two heartbeats, I was back on the right lane, and now well ahead of Doggie. A triumphant laugh burst out of me like an expelled breath as I relished the victory and relief at having cheated death (or at least grave danger).

I accelerated hard, taking every advantage of Doggie’s temporary forced retreat. I could see him in my rear view now, and I knew he was pushing his car as hard as I was pushing mine. But I was the Cat now outpacing the Mouse, and it was my turn to lead him through the single lane roads.

Every clean turn I made, every sharp detour I took kept me ahead of him. He couldn’t even kiss my bumper like I had been doing before. I eyed the clock as the minutes (which had bled away like an arterial spray when I was in the rear) now drain achingly slowly like honey through a sieve.

Despite my initial advantage, Doggie’s car must have been better tuned than mine because every straight section we had he regained his lost distance. I didn’t know these roads well, and had no way of knowing whether I was about to lead us into a winding path or a pseudo-expressway.

Bit by bit he gained on me until he was right on my tail. I tried to take every turn I could find to try to throw him, but he was just as good at turns as I was, and it wasn’t helping much.

Even though it had been less than twenty minutes, mental fatigue was setting in, and it was harder to keep my reaction speed. Just two more minutes, I urged myself. Just one more!

As the final minute ticked down, my pulse was accelerating just as quick as my Eclipse. It seemed to be beat almost triple pace to each second. I was exultant at the thrill of near victory. You haven’t won yet! I had to remind myself. I can’t lose focus now! Doggie was at the hip, just as desperate as I was for the win.

Suddenly he braked. For one second I had no idea why, until I realised the race must have ended! I had won!

Breathless from the energy of the last few minutes, I too eased my car to a stop, and Doggie and I both coasted to a stop near each other on the shoulder.

“You crazy gaesaekki!” He whooped at me, as we both exited the car. Despite calling me a son of a bitch, he was surprisingly not angry. Even more surprisingly, he pulled me in for a hug, clapping me on the back.

He gripped me by the shoulders in a friendly way, and grinned that cheeky trademark grin of his. I grinned back at him loopily, high off the adrenaline of the race.

The drone, which had somehow kept up with us the entire time, buzzed like oversized wasp, and I wondered if the crowds watching Le Creuset’s stream were just as pumped as we were.

“What’s your name again? Tell me so I can remember never to run into you ever again.” Despite his words, he was smiling in exceptional sportsmanship.

“Baek Taejun,” I said, once again forgetting I was supposed to be using a dumb nickname.

“Baek Taejun, you drive like a maniac.” Somehow he managed to say it like a compliment. He held out his hand. “I’m Sae Joohyuk.”

Oh good, he did want my real name. I was glad that I could stop thinking of him as Doggie now. I took his hand and we shook. He laughed when I admitted I had no idea back and told me to follow him.

As we approached the lot under New Banpo Bridge, the crowd rushed out to meet us. We couldn’t get around them so we just parked on the street. Immediately, Sae Joohyuk was absorbed into a group of what was probably his gang and he chattered away, reliving the recent race. They didn’t seem too disappointed at his loss.

The reception I received was extremely overbearing to me. Excited racers crowded me, bombarding me with questions or compliments. They must have been part of the group who went with the risky wager, and received their higher return.

Han Sungmin pushed through them all, whooping excitedly. “Hey new guy! You sure that was your first time racing?”

“Fairly certain,” I answered. Even though I barely knew him, he was the only familiar face I knew in this crowd, and I was relieved he was here. I grinned, still dazed from the rush of emotion and energy before.

“Damn! Next time I won’t bet against you,” he laughed.

“You bet against me?!” I felt offended.

“Of course I did. You were a total jjorep! You had no chance, dude.”

“It’s definitely because I gave him my good luck kiss.” I hadn’t noticed Lee Seol-hee coming toward us at all, and I jumped slightly at her voice right next to me. She, oblivious to my reaction, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek with an audible smooch!

“Bullshit, half the guys you choose lose anyways. Seol-hee-ya, get off of the poor kid, you’ll give him a heart attack! He’s obviously a mossol.”

Being called a relationship-less virgin stung my pride, even though it was true. I couldn’t tell if I was more red from Lee Seol-hee’s overt physical contact, or Sungmin’s comment.

“Heol! If you say that it just makes me want to tease him more,” she said flirtatiously. There was something sensual even about her voice that made me shiver. With what emotion, I had no idea yet.

“Le Creuset is probably wrapping up his stream now, so go over there to talk to him about your earnings.” Sungmin clapped me on the back and gave me a nudge toward the orange headed chatterbox streamer.

“But come find me after,” he added, as he took Seol-hee away.

With Sungmin gone I had little desire to make small talk with strangers, so I made my way over to Le Creuset. He was packing away his streamer kit. “Hey new guy! That was some driving! You’re the real thing alright. Your nerves must be steel.. no, titanium! Maybe we’ll call you that, eh?”

“I really don’t want a weird nickname,” I said, exasperatedly.

“Too. Bad,” said Le Creuset, prodding me in the chest. “You gotta keep your identity secret in this circuit.”

I rubbed my chest disgruntledly. Everyone here seemed to have no boundaries and were constantly besieging me with their unexpected physical contact. While we were on the topic of nicknames, I decided to ask a question I still hadn’t gotten answered.

“Why do they call you Le Creuset?”

“Because I’m the pot,” he grinned.

I still didn’t get it.