Chapter 706: AI Instructions
Anthony’s hand slipped into the box, his fingers brushing against the slips until they finally secured one. He drew it out, unfolding the paper with a calm expression. The bold number 11 was etched upon it.
Without uttering a word, Anthony simply turned and made his way toward the car marked with the same number along its gleaming sides. Its position in the arrangement was neither at the forefront nor at the rear, but comfortably situated in the middle, as though destiny itself had chosen a neutral placement for him.
Gently opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of a race suit and helmet neatly prepared for him. But, unlike the ordinary suits of traditional racers, this one carried an aura of craftsmanship and technological precision that immediately caught his attention.
Upon closer inspection, Anthony noticed its enhancements, this was no mere protective clothing. The suit was designed to withstand and absorb devastating impacts, capable of shielding its wearer from damage equivalent to that of an S-ranked blow without suffering rips, tears, or compromise. The helmet, even more impressive, had defensive strength bordering on the SS-rank.
A faint, almost bemused thought crossed his mind. ’Does the owner of this racetrack perhaps have a way to convert quarks into mana crystals, or something even more lucrative? For equipment of such quality to be distributed so freely, wealth and resources must be backing this establishment.’
Without wasting time, Anthony slipped into the race suit. The material clung and reshaped itself seamlessly to his frame, adjusting as if it had been tailored for him alone. But, the moment it settled fully, he felt an invasive, suppressive force press against his body, an artificial restriction designed to suppress mana, abilities, and skills.
Of course, it failed instantly.
Anthony had expected as much. How could mere mortal-made clothing, even of S or SS-rank craftsmanship, hope to bind or restrict someone of his caliber? He could only smile faintly at the attempt. However, he had no intention of standing out too early or raising unnecessary suspicion. Using the system’s functions, he willingly imposed restrictions upon himself, mimicking the suppression others were subjected to.
From his earlier observations, he already knew that the nineteen other racers varied in rank between E- and D+, with Ernest barely brushing against the threshold of C- rank. To them, the suppression was not surprising, they had grown accustomed to it. The only thing left untouched was their natural physique. Everything else, their mana, skills, and special abilities, was rendered useless. In this race, it was purely driver against driver, skill against skill, instinct against instinct.
Once dressed, the racers moved without hesitation, each slipping into the seats of their assigned vehicles. They fastened their belts with the ease of seasoned participants, and a hush fell over the group as they tuned into the instructions.
Anthony entered his own car with practiced calm, settling into the plush yet firm seat. His hand pressed down on the ignition button. With a low, throaty hum that soon swelled into a powerful roar, the car sprang to life beneath him. The dashboard lit up, a fusion of futuristic holograms and sleek mechanical dials, while the air vibrated faintly from the machine’s restrained power.
"Good afternoon, Racer," the car’s AI system announced, its voice clear and mechanical, carrying both neutrality and authority. "Before we begin, be advised: this race will be recorded and broadcast across the entire racetrack."
"I will now explain the rules," the AI continued. "There is only one. Racers must not use any artificial means, skills, or abilities outside of those provided by the car and their own natural driving skill. If any form of cheating is detected, the car will automatically shut down, rendering the racer disqualified and immobile."
Anthony was not surprised. Such rules were common sense in places like this, where fairness needed to be maintained and spectacle preserved. He was certain that eyes were already monitoring their every move from behind countless screens, waiting for the slightest infraction.
"The vehicle is fitted with a body-shaped barrier, designed to absorb a fixed quota of damage. Once this threshold is surpassed, the barrier will collapse, leaving the racer exposed. At that point, survival will depend entirely on the racer’s own abilities and luck."
’Surviveal...’ Anthony thought silently, his lips curving in faint amusement. This was no ordinary race indeed.
"The AI system also comes equipped with shortcut navigation," the voice went on. "However, you must be warned, seventy percent of these shortcuts are false paths, leading to dead ends or traps. When I notify you of a shortcut, there is only a thirty percent chance that it will truly provide an advantage. Thus, it is the racer’s choice to trust the gamble, or not."
Anthony mused to himself. ’An ingenious concept. They force uncertainty upon the racers, turning every decision into a gamble between fortune and ruin. Speed alone isn’t enough here; instinct and judgment carry the same weight.’
"The cars are also fitted with high-caliber guns and missiles. The AI will handle targeting and aiming, but they can only be fired upon your command. Ammunition is limited, so it must be used wisely."
Anthony’s eyes flickered briefly at that revelation.
"In the event that a car is destroyed, placing the racer’s life in danger, the suit will immediately generate a protective dome, while simultaneously lifting the restrictions on mana and skills. This safeguard allows racers to defend themselves, if they are capable."
The AI’s explanation came in a steady, unbroken stream, almost endless in its detail. Anthony listened patiently, his thoughts occasionally drifting to how bizarrely different this was from the tame, regulated world of Earth’s racing sports. Here, danger was not merely a possibility, it was part of the design.
"Each racing scenario will be no less than three hundred kilometers in length. At the edge of every scenario lies a portal. Racers must pass through it to advance to the next scenario. When the final scenario is reached, all remaining competitors will be informed. The starting route to each portal is fixed and identical for all racers. The AI will provide guidance along the optimal path."
Anthony exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ’A marathon of chaos, stage after stage... Interesting.’
"Next, the explosive mana tank," the voice continued. "It can boost the car’s top speed from one thousand to thirteen hundred kilometers per hour. However, the tank’s capacity is finite. It can sustain a total of ten minutes of use, which may be divided and activated at will. Once the limit is reached, the tank will be rendered inactive."
Anthony nodded slightly.
"And finally," the AI intoned, "good luck, Racer."
The display flickered momentarily, then a fresh prompt appeared before him. "Please select transmission type: Automatic or Manual."
Anthony did not hesitate. "Manual," he replied. Although he appreciated the ease of automatic driving, there was a particular intoxication in manual transmission. The tactile sensation of shifting gears, the precise timing, the intimate connection between man and machine, this was the essence of driving, the charm that made it thrilling.
The AI confirmed his choice, and silence briefly filled the car. Then, ahead of him, a signal light flickered to life.
It flashed red, bathing the track in its warning glow. A heartbeats later, it shifted to orange, the air thick with tension as every racer’s grip tightened around their steering wheels. For two drawn-out seconds, the world seemed to pause, stretched thin by anticipation.
Then, at last, it turned green and the race began.