The moment the final light of the countdown went dark,
every Formula machine on the grid shot forward like a pack of unleashed beasts.
In just two seconds, most cars were already breaking 100 km/h,
their acceleration surging madly.
By five to seven seconds, their speed had blasted past 200 km/h.
A sharp mosquito-like whine echoed across the track as several machines struggled to push even faster.
In the midfield pack, Randall finally stomped down and unleashed his machine.
His white Ishuzark X3 erupted with explosive performance.
He had abandoned the standard swing-cockpit system and instead mounted dual turbo fans on the rear, massively boosting the car's high-speed stability.
With its needle-shaped cockpit and thick, aerodynamic front chassis,
the whole car looked like a white missile ready to punch through the wind.
The two turbines at the back glowed with a dull, volcanic black—
like dormant twin volcanoes waiting for the moment to erupt.
Randall weaved sharply through gaps at the start,
his movements quick and agile like a white winter fox.
In no time, he overtook most of the field and squeezed himself into the top five.
Just as he was feeling smug about his strategy—
Franz Heinel came storming in behind him, piloting the Schneider ST.
The ST's paint shimmered in silver-gold, its silhouette resembling a fighter jet.
A bullet-shaped cockpit extended at the nose,
with stabilizing aero-fins deployed across the rear.
Unlike most machines, this racer was designed for a prone driving position,
and it actively used the swing-cockpit system.
That system gave it superior stability and grip during cornering—
so much so that it had sparked safety controversies when it was first introduced.
But the effect was undeniable.
In corners, the Schneider ST lost far less speed than Randall.
Franz executed a clean, effortless pass during the turn.
"Damn it!!" Randall inhaled a faceful of exhaust smoke, grinding his teeth in fury.
Out of the bend, he pushed with all he had.
The Ishuzark's straight-line speed was monstrous, and he shot forward again to duel the Schneider ST wheel-to-wheel.
But positions across the field were shifting rapidly.
Strong racers who had started at the back were now clawing their way upward.
"MOVE!! This one's my championship!!"
Bleed Kaga roared in excitement.
He was now driving Ouga—
a machine that no ordinary racer could tame.
It was designed by Namie Tsuneyoshi, the elder brother of Namie Kyosuke,
and one of the original collaborators with Hayato Kazami's father
on the early ASURADA System.
After philosophical disagreements, Tsuneyoshi left the ASURADA project
and independently completed Ouga's design.
Thus—
Ouga and Asurada share the same design philosophy, but diverge as sibling evolutions.
Many core components were highly compatible between the two.
But Ouga was wild—a machine with no interest in adapting itself to the driver.
Its BC system assumed the driver already possessed ideal, flawless technique.
It calculated the optimal racing line on its own and would simply force that execution.
A machine that chased speed alone,
ruthless to the point of cruelty.
If the driver wasn't good enough—they crashed.
Fortunately for Ouga…
Kaga's skills were monstrous.
Even with a stampede of racers blocking his path, he tore straight through.
The six wheels spun like a storm, and Ouga rocketed forward.
With its overwhelming performance and perfect route execution—
Kaga overtook five Formula machines in one breath—
and was already attacking the sixth,
in the middle of a corner.
It was insane.
When so many cars couldn't stop him before,
now that the field was thinning—
there was no chance anyone could stop him now.
At the next corner, the car ahead braked.
Kaga's eyes flared—
he floored the throttle.
Ouga exploded forward like a demon, sliced past the machine ahead,
only then reducing speed to take the corner.
The lateral G-forces twisted his face in pain,
his whole body straining,
but—
He did it.
He seized a strong midfield position,
and continued his relentless charge forward.
No wonder he was known as the strongest man beneath the main protagonist.
Unwilling to fall behind, Shinjou Naoki pushed onward.
The EX-Spartan let out a fiery roar,
blazing like a red phoenix hunting down the opponents ahead.
Wind-slicing overtakes continued in a chain.
Shinjou didn't spare a single thought for the others.
They weren't worth his attention.
He glanced at the rearview mirror.
Leon was still at the very back, cruising lazily.
What was he doing?
Leon wasn't in a rush.
He overtook slower cars one by one, casually, without urgency.
All the top drivers were clustered in the mid-pack now,
fighting tooth and nail.
Only the weakest racers were stuck at the rear.
With a gentle push of the throttle, Leon overtook another.
There was no need to hurry.
The race had only just begun.
From the passenger AI seat, Momo advised:
"Current field status unclear. Accelerating now would be wasteful. Please conserve energy."
Leon frowned. "Then when?"
"When the field settles into a stable formation—
when the racers line up into a single straight chain."
At the start, everyone scrambled for position, creating chaos.
But once speed rose and spacing widened,
cars naturally formed a long straight line across the track.
Using the slipstream from the vehicle ahead,
overtaking became far easier on corner entry.
So Leon simply stayed in standard race mode.
Even then, his speed hovered around 300–400 km/h.
Minimum corner speed: 150 km/h.
Many cars simply couldn't keep up.
They passed the sandy sector and approached the seaside stretch.
Waves crashed violently against the coast,
the tide surging higher each minute.
The sky darkened.
Heavy storm clouds gathered offshore.
A storm was coming.
With the tide rising, racers instinctively hugged the inner line,
avoiding the outer edge where sea spray splashed onto the road.
Everyone was using slick dry tires.
Touching water would be fatal.
Wet pavement reduced traction dramatically.
If puddles formed, the tires could lose contact with the track entirely—
turning the car into a hydroplaning projectile.
No one wanted to risk that.
Without noticing, the entire field gradually lined up into a long queue.
Momo's tone sharpened.
"It's time!"
Leon's eyes lit up instantly.
He shifted one space to the left—
And his engine released a deep, domineering roar.
Tyrant— Acceleration Mode!!
~~----------------------
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