In someone else's territory, only Leon would dare act with such arrogance.
Everyone stared at him in shock.
Was Leon not afraid of death?
This was Japan—not America.
If someone here wanted him gone, they could make it happen in minutes.
He might not even be able to walk out of Japan alive, let alone sideways.
Humiliated, Hiyoshi Akira's expression twisted.
The fury inside him ignited like a barrel of explosives.
He slammed the plate in his hand down onto the table, gritted his teeth, and stormed up to Leon.
Grabbing Leon by the collar with both hands, he roared:
"You damn American bastard! Believe it or not, I'll beat you to death!"
Being able to compete in the CF circuits was a badge of high honor—
Even more prestigious than F1.
A testament to a racer's capabilities.
And yet Leon dismissed him as if he were garbage.
That single sentence—"Who do you think you are?"—trampled his pride into dust.
It felt like he had been thrown back into those dark years when people looked down on him.
How could Hiyoshi endure that?
Leon—nearly two meters tall—lowered his head and stared coldly at the 1.8-meter Hiyoshi.
The way a giant looks down on an ant.
Just that gaze alone chilled Hiyoshi's blood.
Regret instantly washed over him.
Why pick a fight with someone he had no chance of beating?
While he was frozen in regret, Leon moved.
He grabbed Hiyoshi's collar with one hand and lifted him effortlessly off the ground.
Hiyoshi dangled like a helpless chick.
Pathetically weak.
"I'll say this once—keep your hands to yourself."
Leon snorted coldly and flung him aside.
Caught off guard, Hiyoshi flew backward, crashing onto the floor.
He rolled like a beaten beggar, flipping over himself in humiliation.
The crowd burst into laughter.
It felt… satisfying.
Leon shot him one more icy glance before taking a seat.
Mia sat beside him as a waitress arrived with two glasses of champagne.
"Wasn't that… too impulsive?"
Mia asked anxiously.
"If everyone here dislikes us now, what if no one invests?"
She was always thinking for Leon.
Her heart had quietly drifted far from Dominic—
And unknowingly settled on Leon.
"Don't worry. Even if no one invests tonight, I'll find another solution."
Leon said calmly.
If someone wanted to throw money at him, great.
If not, he had other ways.
Worst case?
Clear out a bit of the garage inventory—
Sell a few cars and he'd easily fund what he needed.
"Good evening, Mr. Leon."
A soft, gentle voice came from beside them.
Leon looked up and saw Asuka Sugo, holding a wine glass and smiling politely.
Her eyes were warm, free of arrogance or malice.
She came purely out of curiosity and goodwill.
Leon, after all, was America's "racing god."
She wanted to know what kind of person could dominate the entire American racing scene.
"Hello. I'm Leon. Please, have a seat."
"Thank you."
Asuka sat down gracefully.
Several men in the hall nearly exploded with jealousy.
Infuriating—
The two brightest beauties in the room were now sitting with him?
Their hearts were sour beyond belief.
"I noticed your pit station was empty today," Asuka said, blinking her curious eyes.
"Did your team run into trouble?"
Every other team had arrived earlier.
Leon was the only one missing.
Naturally, people talked.
"Everyone's been saying you might withdraw," she added.
That was the gentlest version of the rumors.
Many had said far uglier things.
The majority believed Leon would withdraw—
Either because his team couldn't make it in time,
or because something had happened mid-trip.
Leon smiled faintly, unconcerned.
Instead, he asked, "And what do you think?"
"I don't think you'll withdraw," Asuka replied without hesitation.
"You must have run into difficulties… or you did it intentionally to make others lower their guard."
Smart girl.
She had seen through his ploy to lull opponents into complacency.
Leon gave her an appreciative look but didn't confirm anything.
"I do have a little trouble," he said half-jokingly.
"I'm short on money—just a bit more—and I can hire the best support team."
"How much?" Asuka asked curiously.
"If it isn't too much, I can invest."
She was the daughter of a major corporation.
Her private funds were plentiful, though she lived modestly and didn't show off like Randall.
She looked simple, but her personal vault was anything but.
Leon chuckled.
"You can't afford it."
He raised five fingers.
"I'm short… five hundred million.
USD."
"…Wh-what?"
"Five hundred… million?
US dollars?!"
Asuka froze completely.
Five hundred million USD—
more than 53 billion yen!
Enough to build a luxury hotel from scratch.
Leon was right.
She really couldn't afford that.
If it were five hundred million yen, she'd bring it out without blinking.
But five hundredbillion yen? Impossible.
"Why do you need that much money?"
Asuka still hadn't recovered.
"Secret."
Leon smiled mysteriously.
Asuka was from the Japanese side.
If he told her everything and it leaked,
all his efforts would be wasted.
Just then, the host walked onstage to open the ceremony, wishing the Hyper Formula races a successful event.
Then came speeches from political figures—
The process was almost identical to what China used.
Once the speeches ended, the real event began.
The sponsorship session.
Everything depended on one's own abilities.
Teams like Randall's, Franz Heinel's, and Aoi Kyouko's attracted crowds of investors.
They were popular, in demand, and investors listened eagerly to their strategies and winning odds.
Some were even considering increasing their shares.
Only Leon's table was deserted.
Not a single investor approached.
"You're not going back to your team?" Leon asked Asuka.
"No. I don't like this kind of money-talking."
She shook her head.
She wasn't into business affairs—others handled that for her.
She preferred the peace of Leon's table.
"If no one invests in you tonight… what will you do?" she asked.
At that moment, Randall noticed their empty corner.
He strutted over with a mocking grin.
"Well, well… everyone else is busy talking investment, and you two are just drinking coffee?"
His tone dripped with schadenfreude.
~~----------------------
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