Ignoring the half-dead Pat, Leon gripped the wheel and unleashed the full power of the Diomas.
The supercar roared like an angry beast, slamming through debris and hurling the wreckage of the downed helicopter aside. Then, with a violent kick of the accelerator, he switched into overdrive.
The speedometer needle was bouncing wildly, climbing higher and higher.
Under normal circumstances, he'd have cleared the area easily.
But not this time.
The pilot of the Super Stallion helicopter noticed something wrong—the car's speed was increasing too fast.
He immediately activated the electromagnetic capture system.
The massive suction of the electromagnet came to life with a deafening hum.
The heavy steel chain attached to the magnetic plate straightened instantly, locking its aim directly at Diomas!
"Come on, come on…!" The pilot gritted his teeth, slamming the power lever forward.
The magnetic plate tilted, locking onto the car, and the suction intensified—monstrous and unstoppable.
The drag hit Leon like he'd suddenly been chained to a freight train.
The Diomas screeched across the asphalt, tires screaming, the mighty engine howling like a kaiju in pain.
Even at 20,000 RPM, the car barely held its speed—it was slowing down!
Leon could feel the grip on the rear tires slipping.
At this rate, the car would be pulled backward—and once the rear lifted, it was over.
Completely over.
"Damn it!" he snarled, teeth clenched.
This was the worst possible situation—he could feel the raw power of the car being smothered, trapped.
He downshifted furiously and slammed the pedal to the floor, not for speed but torque—to fight back against the magnetic pull.
The tires spun madly, grinding grooves into the road, smoke billowing everywhere.
"System! Can we use missiles?!" he barked.
The system's voice came back cold and emotionless:
"Missile ammunition depleted."
He froze.
Right—he'd already used the last one blowing up that drone earlier.
"Then use the machine guns! Take that bird down!"
The tail of the Diomas split open, revealing a mounted autocannon.
It swiveled up and spat a blazing tongue of fire—bullets screaming toward the helicopter.
Because the bullets were copper-based, they weren't affected by the magnetic field,
but the air turbulence from the rotor scattered most of them.
A few rounds pinged harmlessly off the chopper's armored undercarriage.
Ting—ting—ting!
To the Super Stallion, it was like mosquito bites—annoying, but harmless.
Even the magnetic plate got hit several times, but it barely dented.
That thing was thick, reinforced, and built to shrug off high-caliber rounds.
"Machine gun ineffective," the system reported. "Select another weapon."
"Then laser fire!" Leon snapped.
"Unable to comply," the system replied. "Laser emitters are front-mounted—no rear coverage."
"Damn it!!"
Leon slammed his fist on the steering wheel.
Then he felt it—the car's rear end was lifting off the ground.
The magnetic pull was winning.
"Shit—!"
He floored the accelerator again, but it was useless. The Diomas shuddered violently, front wheels clawing at the road, but the rear continued to rise.
The magnetic field grew stronger—he was seconds from being dragged into the air!
"Activate Graviton Pulse!" he ordered sharply.
Even in chaos, Leon's mind was razor steady.
The car's body glowed faintly blue—and a pulse of gravitational energy erupted downward.
The Super Stallion jolted midair, alarms blaring inside the cockpit.
"Warning! Weight variance detected! Systems overload!"
The pilot gaped in disbelief.
"What the hell—why does it feel like we just got heavier?!"
The rotor blades screeched, metal grinding in protest.
Under the unseen gravitational force, the blades began to bend while spinning—something physically impossible.
"What is happening?!" the pilot screamed.
Before he could react, the magnetic plate successfully clamped onto the Diomas.
But instead of pulling the car upward—the car dragged the helicopter down.
It was unreal.
The pilot's original plan had been simple:
Once the car was magnetically secured, they'd haul it to Washington D.C., straight to the President's residence for containment.
But now?
The Super Stallion couldn't lift the car.
In fact—it was being towed by it!
The chopper sank lower and lower, the chain trembling violently.
Inside the car, Leon finally exhaled.
The tires reconnected with the ground.
They were back on solid asphalt.
"Good work, gravity system," he muttered, eyes cold as steel.
Then, catching a glimpse in his rearview mirror of the magnet still clamped on, a wicked grin crept across his face.
"Alright then… time to show them how we dance."
He slammed the accelerator.
Diomas roared forward, dragging the massive helicopter like a toy on a string.
People watching the live broadcast were stunned into silence.
"Is this for real?"
"He's… he's dragging a helicopter?!"
All along the East Coast, citizens stared at the broadcast, jaws slack.
Somewhere, a little kid pointed at the screen.
"Mommy! Look! He's flying a kite!"
His mother didn't even blink—frozen, fries slipping from her fingers, eyes wide with disbelief.
Up ahead, the road curved sharply.
Leon jerked the steering wheel—Diomas drifted into a high-speed tailspin, whipping the helicopter like a flail.
The steel chain snapped taut, and the Super Stallion was flung sideways in a deadly arc.
"AHHHHHHHHH!!!" the pilot screamed.
The forest rushed up to meet him.
BOOM!
The chopper slammed into the trees. Rotor blades snapped, spinning off into the woods like flying guillotines.
Dozens of trees fell in seconds, shredded by the blast.
The tail section tore free, the entire fuselage crumpling and erupting into a fiery explosion.
A tower of flames shot into the sky, shaking the earth.
From miles away, people could see the plume of black smoke curling up from the forest—
and the live feed from NMSL News captured it all in full color, leaving the entire nation speechless.
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
[email protected] / Dreamer20