Chapter 307.

Chapter 307.Chapter 307. My Birthday: Training Course. (6/8)

“Huh? Assassin? What, you’re still making fun of me? Hmph! Just wait, you’re going to be crying and begging me to let you off the hook after this. Hmph! He says his girlfriend’s an assassin. How stupid do I look? Really.” She let out a string of disgruntled complaints as she kicked the motorcycle into first gear and revved the engine.

I felt a sudden extreme burst of acceleration on my body. Terrified, I clung to her back and tightened my arms around her waist.

Within a short three seconds, we’d reached the speed limit. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when she didn’t even let off the gas as we rounded the corner out of the parking lot onto the road.

But... the scariest part of all was that she still had it in first gear.

Our speed climbed and before I knew it we were going 100 kilometers per hour.

“Slow down! You’re going to get us killed, you lunatic!” I had to scream that out.

“Hahahaha! That’s the thrill of riding, man! You never know when you’re going to die!”

She was a bonafide lunatic.

Finally, she shifted into second gear when we reached 120 kilometers per hour.

“We’re going to fly past the restaurant, dumbass!”

“We’ll be fine. Chill out back there and relax.”

Just when I thought she’d completely miss the turn into the restaurant she leaned hard to the left, downshifting back into first gear while keeping the handles straight. My life suddenly flashed before my eyes when the motorcycle suddenly sank down low to the ground and skidded in an arc around the bend into the driveway.

I’m sorry Rosa, Alicia, Irene, and Wisteria. It looks like I’m about to die today because of this psychopath.

When the sides of our left legs reached only a few short centimeters away from the ground, we abruptly rose back up and straightened out as we came to a sudden stop.

My heart was pounding madly. Everything had been a complete blur. I couldn’t even focus on the surroundings the entire time. That was probably the worst thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

I released her waist, got off her motorcycle unsteadily, and collapsed onto my hands and knees, my entire body trembling. With my palm against the ground, I kissed the back of my hand. I was still just barely sane enough to not seriously kiss the ground directly.

I unconsciously replaced her title in my head, it had gone from wannabe gang leader to road terrorist.

It was no wonder why she didn’t use her personal motorcycle during the training course though. The bloody thing switched into second gear at over 120 kilometers per hour and the acceleration was disgusting. You couldn’t possibly go and use that abomination on a training course.

“Hey, are you goin to keep huggin me from behind all day?”

I removed my arms from around her waist and got off with my heart throbbing uncontrollably. My heart was by no means throbbing out of love, rather, it was from the fear of treading so close to death.

“Your heart was beatin pretty fast. Haha, did you fall for me or somethin?”

“Fall for you? Yeah, yeah. I totally fell for you. Like hell I did! Don’t screw with me! You nearly got us killed on multiple occasions with all those close calls!”

“Hahaha, they weren’t even close. There were at least five centimeters between us and those cars, that’s plenty of room.” She slapped me on the back with a wide smile.

“Yeah, plenty of room to die.”

“That’s the best part of going fast though. The possibility of death. Isn’t the thrill great?”

“If you’re some sort of adrenaline junkie, then sure, the thrill might get you high. But I’m just an average guy who likes to enjoy my peace and quiet.”

“What a boring guy. Can’t even appreciate the wonders of going fast.”

“You’re really going to get yourself killed one of these days if you keep this up.”

She leaned back on her motorcycle with her hands in her jacket pockets as she looked up at the sky with an at peace smile and said, “So what? If I die, there won’t be anyone who’ll miss me or mourn my death. Street rats come and go. One day they’re alive, the next they’re dead. Nobody will cry for a street rat like me when I leave this world. Not even my gang, they’d move on just like with every gang leader that came before me. Since that’s the case, I’ll go out with a bang.”

“Your recklessness and irresponsibility will result in other people dying too though.”

“So what? That’s just their bad luck for running into me. My hands are already bloody. Adding a few more to the list won’t change anything.”

“Still posing as a gang leader to the very end, huh?” By this point... I was honestly inclined to believe she really was one. It was the only explanation that made sense for her to have this expensive motorcycle when she was a girl who grew up on the street. She wasn’t very refined, she was rough around the edges, and she spoke like a thug. It was enough to convince me of her back story.

Could she have built a monstrous motorcycle like this with reused parts from scrap or junkyards at the mechanic repair shop she worked at from a young age? I doubted that was possible. The answer that made the most sense was the one she’d given.