Chapter 8 Unqualified Racer

"Relax, Lola," said one of Lola's teammates, Lucas Drake, with a smug smirk. "There's no way a single woman like her can stand a chance with all of us racing against her. "Just watch. She'll be trembling the moment she realizes she's up against the whole team." A gleam of pride flashed in Lola's eyes. No matter who the mystery racer was, there was no way she could outdrive an entire squad. … Noelle checked her racing car and made sure everything was in place before settling behind the wheel. Then came the announcement. "Ten million dollars wagered on Number 12!" Noelle's heart skipped a beat at the sound. She was racing on behalf of Raymond, and since he couldn't legally bet on his stand-in, she wondered who put in the ten million dollars. Even combined, every other racer's pool wasn't close to ten million dollars. The announcement sent an electric jolt of envy through the scene, and every racer on the circuit locked onto Noelle. Along with Lola, the entire Flying Speed Racing surrounded Noelle, like a pack of predators closing in on their prey. The moment the red lights went off, Noelle slammed her foot on the gas pedal and shot forward. On the giant screen, her number "12" cut through the track like a streak of lightning, not only impossibly fast but also fluid and precise. As Flying Speed Racing tried to box her in from the front and back, she slipped through the narrowest gaps and left them colliding with each other. The crowd in the stands leaped to their feet, roaring with excitement. Even the commentator was excitedly screaming, "Unbelievable! The mysterious female racer Number 12 is absolutely dominating! She's tearing through Flying Speed Racing's formation like it's nothing!" Frustrated by the collisions, Flying Speed Racing grew desperate. They tried everything to block Noelle and clear a path for Lola, but it was as though Noelle could anticipate their moves. She dodged every move, disrupted their plan, and pulled level with Lola within moments Lola's lead had always been built on her teammates' dirty work toward Noelle's car, and now with the latter right beside her, she panicked. She floored the gas pedal, but nothing could stop Noelle's relentless advance. Noelle's car charged forward like a hurricane. A flicker of fear flashed in Lola's eyes. The next instant, her car swerved violently, skidded out of control, and hurtled straight off the track. And Noelle's Number 12 was a blur, cutting through the finishing line. "Ah!" The audience on the stands went wild as people jumped out of their seats. That was one hell of an exhilarating match! The commentator gulped and took a moment to collect himself from the shock. "Though we've never met this Number 12 female racer, her racing style reminds me so much of Sheila, the God of Racing from six years ago. "Everyone remembers that the God of Racing, Sheila, was undefeated. On the track, she was known as The Hurricane." She was a gush of hurricane breeze on the racing track, unavoidable in her wake wherever she raced. Noelle wasn't surprised by the victory. As she stepped out of the car, the roar of the crowd from the stands cheered for her. Behind her, Flying Speed Racing was left in disarray. Lola, whose car had spun out, was being helped into the lounge by the staff. Just as Noelle turned to leave, a man barked, "Stop right there!" She halted in her tracks and watched as Lucas from Flying Speed Racing stormed up to her with fury written all over his face. "During the race, you forced Lola into a spin by frightening her! "She's a woman! Have you no sportsmanship? Apologize to her, right now!" Feeling absurd, Noelle looked at him with a trace of amusement in her eyes. "Losing control from a simple tail slide is a basic racer error. It makes me wonder how she even qualified as a racer in the first place. "Or did you bunch of men just compliment her into the racer's seat?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "How dare you!" Lucas fumed, while Noelle unbotheredly continued, "There are no genders on the track. If she isn't good enough, stay home and train. And if she can't handle losing, don't race." Off to the side, Lola pressed a hand to her chest and coughed dramatically. "It's fine, Lucas. It was my mistake, so we can't blame anyone else." Then, she turned her aggrieved gaze to Noelle. "Your voice sounds so familiar. Do we know each other? Would you please show me your face?" Noelle responded with a dismissive scoff. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a habit of associating with strangers." Clifford, who'd just been approaching, froze mid-step. He wondered why that voice sounded so much like Noelle's.