Everyone present was waiting to see Leon make a fool of himself.
Seeing that no investors were approaching him, they immediately began to snicker quietly.
From time to time, someone would point at Leon's group and mock them at will.
Even Hiyoshi Akira — the one who had been humiliated earlier — was gloating with schadenfreude.
Leon's eyes turned cold.
"I notice you islanders never learn your lesson."
One after another dared to provoke him, chattering nonstop.
Was it because they couldn't pull guns in Japan, so they thought they could act unruly?
Randall met Leon's gaze — and a chill crawled up his spine, making him tremble uncontrollably.
Damn… this guy was terrifying.
Randall's heart was filled with an inexplicable fear.
He swallowed hard and quickly switched tactics.
"I've got plenty of money… do you want me to invest in you?"
He lifted his chin, puffed out his chest — acting like Leon was begging him.
He couldn't have been more pleased with himself.
"You sure you want to invest?" Leon smirked. "I'm afraid you can't handle it."
Randall didn't like that at all.
That was clearly calling him broke — poor.
And for a pampered young master like him, being looked down on for not having money was absolutely unacceptable!
"Say it. How much?" He crossed his arms arrogantly.
"Five hundred million USD. Can you afford that?" Leon looked at him with open disdain.
"...How much??"
Randall froze, eyes wide with shock.
Even for him, that number was enough to make his expression warp. That was already an enormous investment.
If Randall wanted to invest something of that scale, he'd definitely need approval from his father.
He didn't have that kind of money himself.
The number Leon casually threw out nearly scared him stupid.
"Ha. Young master, and you get shocked by a mere 50 billion yen? Broke."
Leon's contempt deepened.
F***!
Randall's face turned blue from shame and anger — like someone had force-fed him a mouthful of crap.
His only advantage was his wealth.
Among the racers present, none were richer than him.
But Leon… was calling him broke??
He was furious.
He shook all over, gritting his teeth, wishing he could slap down 500 million dollars right on the table.
But he really didn't have it…
Then suddenly his eyes lit up — he thought of something.
Leon didn't have a car.
So he needed massive funds to buy one.
Trying to fleece investors with nothing in hand.
Hah! The so-called Car God didn't even have a car.
If that spread, it would be huge news.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became.
Randall's eyes sparkled with excitement.
He pointed at Leon and mocked loudly:
"Hah! You asked for five hundred million because you can't afford a car, right?"
"Hahaha! I'm dying — the almighty Car God can't even buy a vehicle!"
"Did you Americans earn your 'Car God' title on a bicycle?!"
His voice was loud enough to grab everyone's attention.
People began turning their heads.
They expected Leon's group to become angry or lower their heads in shame.
But instead, Leon looked at Randall like he was watching an idiot.
Asuka also looked at him with pity, as though she felt sorry for him.
Huh??
The atmosphere seemed wrong.
Randall froze — a wave of dread rising in his heart.
Sure enough, Leon countered:
"Looking through a tube and thinking you've seen a leopard… pathetic."
"Five hundred million is for building a unique, unmatched logistics team."
"You frogs in a well could never imagine how powerful it will be."
"One-second tire change. One-second inspection. Can you do that?" Leon mocked.
In F1, all teams received the same fueling and oil-change equipment from the league.
No tech difference there.
The only place where teams could squeeze out time…
was tire changes and condition checks.
Currently, the fastest pit stop was by Red Bull this July at the German GP — 1.88 seconds, breaking the previous 1.91 seconds record at Silverstone.
That was already near the limit of human capability.
Average F1 teams took around 2.5 to 3 seconds.
Anything under 2.5 seconds was elite.
Under 2 seconds was extremely hard.
Yet Leon was saying "one second."
Maybe even under one second.
This speed was insane.
After the hybrid era began, overtaking on many tracks became extremely difficult.
If a pit stop gave a driver even a one-second advantage…
opponents on the track might need several laps to recover it.
Even 0.1 seconds mattered.
Randall stood there slack-jawed, staring at Leon like he was listening to a myth.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
"Impossible! Even with full automation and robots, it can't be done!" Randall shrieked.
In F1, there's no rule against robotic pit stops.
But robots lacked precision and speed — so teams still used human tire crews.
It was the one domain where humans still beat machines.
"Limited vision," Leon sneered.
"You barbarians from your tiny island can't comprehend real power."
He almost lifted his middle finger at them.
F***!
Randall was about to explode.
Just as he was about to accuse Leon of spouting nonsense—
A golden-haired American walked up.
"If what you said is true, I'm willing to invest."
Leon turned, and was surprised.
He had a slightly chubby figure and a youthful face —
still carrying the spirit of his younger glory days.
"And you are?" Leon asked.
"The Wolf of Wall Street — Jordan Belfort."
He extended his hand, and Leon shook it.
"You're the stockbroker who once earned 12 million USD in three minutes?" Leon was stunned.
"Mm-hmm. Glad you've heard of me."
The Wolf sat down casually.
He was no ordinary person.
For him, earning tens of millions wasn't difficult.
Even Old Wang needed a year to make what this guy could make in a month.
With his net worth, he could play at this level of investment.
But… why was he in Japan?
"You're a stock guy. Why invest in racing?" Leon asked curiously.
"You didn't read the news? Trump is getting impeached again. Global stocks are dipping. Harder and harder to play."
The Wolf laughed.
"Stocks, futures, investments — they're all finance. I play anything that makes money."
His professional creed:
Sell or die.
Meaning he lived as a slave of money.
Without money, he was nothing.
"If I invest, what's the return rate you'll give me?" The Wolf crossed his legs and lit a cigarette.
He'd kicked the drug habit — but not cigarettes.
"How much do you intend to invest?" Leon asked.
"Ten billion."
!!!
Randall, who was eavesdropping from the side, almost fainted.
Was this guy insane?!
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
[email protected] / Dreamer20