Regression - Second Chance At Life Chapter 314: Frustrated Team

While Uncle Ben maintained a semblance of politeness and professionalism toward Adam, Adam was acutely aware of the man's scrutinizing gaze fixed upon him.

It was only to be expected, Adam mused, considering Danny's influential background. He was certain Danny had a retinue of individuals ensuring his safety, with Ben evidently being one of them.

Adam observed that Ben's erect posture and disciplined bearing strongly suggested a military past, habits deeply ingrained and difficult to shed.

Furthermore, Adam could sense an underlying dangerous capability within Ben, a readiness to inflict harm if the situation demanded it.

Adam recognized the necessity of maintaining a façade of genuine friendship towards Danny whenever Ben was present. Any lapse could invite suspicion, and Adam could not afford that.

He was confident that Ben was diligently reporting Adam's every move to Danny's father. The mere suspicion of any ulterior motive regarding Danny could spell serious trouble for Adam's future.

Even with the considerable physical and mental advantages Adam had gained, confronting a billionaire was not a prospect he relished. Not until he possessed sufficient wealth, status, fame, and a network of connections to effectively deflect the complications such a powerful opponent might introduce.

Setting these concerns aside temporarily, Adam redirected his focus to the task at hand. He approached the Stratasurg, commencing a thorough inspection of the modifications made to the vehicle.

The engineers had not only replaced the tires but also changed the engine oil and switched to premium racing fuel. They had even gone so far as to electronically tune the engine for maximum performance, igniting a surge of excitement in Adam about driving it.

The car was already a formidable machine, and with these race-tuned enhancements, Adam anticipated the sheer thrill of unleashing its power through the city streets after dark.

As he was meticulously examining the vehicle's upgrades, a man entered, pushing a large garment rack laden with numerous racing suits.

Adam took notice and cast his gaze upon them. The suits bore a striking resemblance to those worn by professional racing drivers. He hadn't anticipated Ben arranging a racing suit for him as well.

"We weren't sure of your size, so I had them prepared in a range of sizes," Ben announced, gesturing towards the rack.

"Isn't Uncle Ben amazing? He can arrange absolutely anything you desire," Danny exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Adam met Ben's gaze, offering a grateful smile. While contemplating the immense utility of a resourceful associate like Ben, he resolved to acquire a similar invaluable asset for himself once he achieved the financial standing of the Coronants.

"Is the designated driver ready?" a voice called out from within the room, addressing Adam.

From his appearance, it was clear this individual was overseeing the team of engineers.

"Allow me to put on the suit first," Adam replied, moving towards the garment rack. He selected a suit matching his dimensions and proceeded to the changing area.

Moments later, Adam emerged, clad in a perfectly fitting red suit that hugged his form almost flawlessly. While the pant inseam could have been marginally longer and the waist slightly more snug, these were minor quibbles.

As Adam stepped out, a crew member approached him, presenting a selection of helmets for him to try on.

Adam found himself impressed by the meticulous effort invested by everyone involved, considering it was merely for a 'normal' individual driving a supercar on a track.

He could discern that each member of this team was a seasoned professional, having worked with actual race drivers in established teams, representing major automotive corporations that poured billions into motorsports annually.

And yet, here they were, maintaining the highest standards of professionalism simply because Danny wished to witness his 'toy' perform.

Adam wondered about the extent of their willingness to be there. Observing their expressions, he surmised that most were less than enthusiastic about the assignment, likely compensated significantly to be rushed into working on an unfamiliar vehicle.

As Adam selected a helmet that settled comfortably on his head, a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair approached him.

Of average height and slightly overweight, he exuded an undeniable aura of leadership.

"So, you will be the one driving?" the man inquired, his voice a rough yet distinct tone.

"Yes," Adam confirmed with a smile.

The man regarded Adam with a discerning look. Adam perceived a distinct lack of confidence, a belief that Adam was merely another affluent youngster seeking amusement with an expensive machine.

"My name is Dante Ferrara. I am the head race strategist for this team. Once you are on the track, you will heed my instructions and adhere to them strictly to avoid ending up in a ditch," Dante stated in a level voice, though Adam detected an undercurrent of disapproval.

"Understood," Adam replied, opting not to provide Dante with further cause for concern.

"Alright, have you any prior experience with this?" Dante asked.

"No, this is my first time," Adam responded with an innocent smile.

The corner of Dante’s eyes twitched upon hearing those words. Adam could clearly see the growing annoyance and frustration in the man. However, Dante couldn’t act on his irritation, as his professionalism and entire career were on the line. Any mistake by him or his team could mean losing their jobs forever, especially since offending the Coronant was not an option.

With a sigh of defeat, Dante walked away, abandoning the conversation with Adam. Instead, he dispatched a junior strategist to brief Adam on all the details, including modifications to the cars. This junior strategist would also provide Adam with an overview of the track and suggest the best strategies for navigating it during the race.

Although Adam possessed immense confidence in his driving skills and physical capabilities, he diligently absorbed all the instructions. He understood that this information could prove invaluable. The more data he had, the better his mind could function and react during the split-second decisions he anticipated facing.

A few minutes later, Adam and his team were prepared, and everyone assumed their positions. Adam donned his helmet and approached the Stratasurge, taking a moment to admire its sleek exterior before getting in.

“You ready?” Danny asked, walking up to Adam.

“As ready as I can be,” Adam replied.

“I can’t wait to see you set a top 10 lap record time!” Danny exclaimed with excitement.

A few individuals in the room scoffed at Danny’s words, deeming his optimism foolish. How could a complete amateur, a young man not even in his early twenties, possibly set a record lap time? Even seasoned professional drivers with years of experience would struggle to achieve such a feat in just a few attempts.

Adam paid no mind to the scoffing, while Danny appeared completely oblivious, his judgment clouded by the hype he had generated around Adam. In Danny’s eyes, Adam was transforming into a fantasy protagonist capable of achieving anything. Adam was well aware of this perception and intended to leverage it to his advantage. The more Danny looked up to him, the easier it would be for Adam to influence him into doing his bidding.

“Just wait and watch,” Adam said. He then slid into the car and closed the door.

As he settled into the driver’s seat, a sense of seriousness washed over him, accompanied by a peculiar sensation. Mentally, he felt as though his body was merging with the car. Adam placed his hands on the steering wheel, took a deep, calming breath, and steadied his nerves.

“Can you hear me, kid?” a voice echoed in Adam’s mind. It came through the intercom integrated into his helmet.

“Loud and clear,” Adam responded.

“Good, check your seat belt,” the voice instructed. “They’re on,” Adam confirmed.

“Okay, let’s take this slowly at first. Start the engine and roll out. Just drive at a comfortable pace so you can get familiar with the track. Don’t rush. Don’t try anything stupid. And lastly, most importantly, don’t get yourself killed. I don’t want to be held responsible for your death,” Dante instructed sternly.

“Got it,” Adam replied, a chuckle escaping him. He wasn’t annoyed or angered by Dante’s persistent caution. If their positions were reversed, Adam knew he would feel the same. After all, Dante and his team were top-tier professionals, tasked with guiding a novice driver in a souped-up supercar, a driver who had never competed on a circuit before, all because a billionaire’s son wanted to test the limits of his expensive toy.

‘Well, let’s hope he’s getting paid well for this,’ Adam thought as he turned the engine over.

“Okay, engine’s on,” Adam announced.

“Good, make sure everything is running and is in working condition,” Dante ordered. These checks had already been performed by his team, but he asked Adam anyway since he would be the one piloting the vehicle.

“Everything looks good,” Adam confirmed.

“Okay then, you are ready to roll out,” Dante gave the green signal.