Arthur Vance suspected his son had understood every word Louise had said. But how was that possible?
Even though the kid had attended bilingual prep schools since kindergarten, the curriculum barely scratched the surface of conversational French or Italian—let alone British slang. He shouldn't be able to parse complex insults.
He decided to gloss over it, offering a gentle translation. "Louise just wants to know if you'd like to race karts with her."
Liam blinked twice, snapping out of his trance. He realized he was overreacting. Why was he getting worked up over a child?
It was 2007. The general attitude toward Americans in European motorsport circles was… less than charitable. Even in his past life, when American money began flooding the sport, the arrogance remained.
That chip on his shoulder—that burning need to prove them wrong—had become an obsession. An obsession he'd already died for once.
Reacting this strongly now just proved he was still mentally trapped in that final lap, in that wreck.
Maybe his father was right. He needed to get out more. There was more to life than the pursuit of a championship that had already killed him. Why be so attached to the past?
He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. He was taking himself way too seriously.
"Hm? What's funny?" Arthur asked, bewildered by his son's sudden mood shift.
"Nothing."
Liam turned away, looking out at the circuit. Standing there, the dark cloud that had hovered over him for nine years seemed to finally break.
Trapped. I was so trapped.
It wasn't like he hadn't crashed before in his career. It was just that the last one stuck because, well, he died.
The thought had a certain morbid humor to it, and his smile widened.
"Do you want to try it?" Arthur stepped forward as a few karts buzzed past on the straight. "You never smile, Liam. You're always so… grown up. I worry you're shutting yourself away. So, whatever you're thinking, whatever you want to do—you can tell me."
Hearing his father's words, Liam finally realized how much pain his brooding had caused the people around him.
Maybe… maybe his mother leaving had something to do with his detached behavior, too.
His heart wasn't fully at peace—not with his past death, nor with his current family. But since he'd had this epiphany, there was no point in staying stuck.
The best time to change was yesterday. The second best time was now.
So, start over.
Liam turned back and grinned at Arthur. "Thanks, Dad."
"Don't thank me. I just want you to grow up safe and happy." Arthur ruffled his son's hair, relieved.
"Hey! Arthur! Is he going to run? I saw him nod!" Little Louise came bouncing over.
"You wanna play?" Arthur tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.
"Sure. Let's play." Liam nodded.
Since the trip was ostensibly about acquiring a stake in the track, Arthur had already met with the operations manager, Mr. Chen, several times. Getting two karts and suits prepped for the kids was a trivial request.
"First time?" a track marshal asked as he adjusted the seat.
"You could say that," Liam replied.
"Alright, keep it safe. Don't try to be a hero out there," the marshal warned.
Arthur walked over. "Right pedal is gas, left is brake. I'll have an instructor lead you for two laps first—"
"I know how to drive," Liam interrupted.
"No. We'll start on the junior circuit," Arthur insisted.
Liam sighed but complied. He climbed into a restricted 97cc mini-kart and did a quick figure-eight in the paddock to demonstrate basic competence.
His father still looked anxious. Liam rolled his eyes internally. If he was this worried, why didn't he just tell the little European girl no?
He was almost annoyed enough to quit before starting, but Mr. Chen waved a hand and cleared the main track for them. "Let the kids have a fun run. It's empty anyway."
Liam blinked. Right. We're rich. And judging by the entourage, the blonde woman was someone important, too.
"Hmph! It's your first time, so I'll go easy on you!" Before putting on her helmet, Louise hopped around him, taunting.
"Thank you," Liam said in English, nodding politely.
Seeing him play along so nicely, Louise actually felt a pang of guilt for bullying such an honest kid. She switched to a friendly beam. "Hehe, don't worry! After we're done, I can teach you the racing line! I'm a prodigy, you know!"
Liam pretended not to understand the kind of statement that would definitely become a cringe memory for her in ten years. He helped the staff push his kart to the grid.
"What the hell? Two kids just get to take over the whole track?" a teenager waiting in the pits complained.
"Yeah! I heard they're total rookies. They cleared it for safety," another scoffed.
On the grid, neither Liam nor Louise cared about the peanut gallery.
"Son, just take it slow. Louise has raced in junior leagues in Italy. She's basically a semi-pro for her age," Arthur said, patting Liam's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm just cruising," Liam agreed.
On the other side, Martina told Louise, "Be safe."
"Don't worry, Mamma! I'll beat him by five seconds! No, ten!"
"Competition is fine, but bragging about beating a novice? Have some class," Martina sighed, rolling her eyes. She knew her daughter too well.
"Hehe~" Louise pulled on her helmet. It wasn't her fault the kids in Italy were monsters on the track. She just wanted to feel what it was like to lead a race for once!
Since everyone assumed this was just a joyride, there was no warm-up lap. No tire warming.
As he settled into the bucket seat, staring down the straight, Liam's mouth went dry.
Fear.
He was still afraid. But beneath the fear... desire.
Like a bird that had fallen from the sky, reborn but still longing for the clouds.
The flag dropped.
Vroom!
Engines screamed. The karts shot forward.
Down the main straight, they were neck and neck.
Louise glanced over. Speed on the straight means nothing. Wait for Turn 1, Yankee. Watch this.
As the kart accelerated, a strange sensation washed over Liam. He felt his consciousness expand, merging with the machine. The tires felt like extensions of his own limbs.
He'd felt this bizarre connection in his past life, specifically in that final corner. When the tire had exploded then, he'd felt it like his own hand shattering.
He didn't know why it was happening, but... it didn't feel bad.
approaching Turn 1, a right-hander. Louise was on his left, guarding the inside. He didn't squeeze her. No point in causing a wreck over a game.
But even without using the full width of the track, his car control was absolute. He rode the curbing, maintaining momentum without scrubbing speed.
Whoosh!
Turn 1 fed immediately into another right. A micro-correction on the steering wheel, and he flowed through it.
Then a left, transitioning into an S-curve. At this speed, every input Liam made was surgical. Zero hesitation. Zero corrections.
"That line... it's incredibly smooth," Mr. Chen murmured, surprised. He looked at Arthur. "Mr. Vance, is this really his first time?"
"Uh, yes." Arthur was equally stunned.
"Arthur, are you sure he hasn't karted before? No—has he driven this track before?!"
Martina lowered her sunglasses, her gaze sharpening. To her expert eye, the kid was a liar. He had to be. He drove like he'd practiced this layout for weeks.
Everyone knew you had to learn the track. Braking points, turn-in angles—you couldn't just guess them.
But Liam was threading the needle like a veteran who'd been lapping Portside for years.
"So smooth!" a kid by the fence rubbed his eyes.
"How is he cornering that fast? Why isn't he sliding?" another whispered in disbelief.
"Pfft. He's in a restricted kart. It's slow, so it's easy to control," the older teenager scoffed, still bitter about the track closure.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The wind roared. The lateral G-forces pressed against him—only a G or two, but it felt... good. Liberating.
Liam had completely forgotten about Louise behind him. He was driving for himself now.
The friction of rubber on asphalt, the slip angle, the traction on exit—the feedback was clearer than 4K video in his mind.
It urged him to push. Brake later. Throttle earlier. Carry more speed.
But the Portside circuit was short. Before he could really start pushing the limits, he crossed the finish line.
He saw Mr. Chen waving the checkered flag. Snapping back to reality, he slowed down for the cool-down lap and headed for the pits.
Even at low speed, the sensation remained. With the tire load gone, his focus shifted to the engine.
'I can feel the piston travel? The fuel mixture?'
Liam was shocked. This wasn't just "good feel." This was beyond human.
He was getting more telemetry data in his head than a pit wall computer.
If he did fifty, maybe a hundred laps? If he truly learned the machine and the track? The lap times would be terrifying.
He parked the kart. Before he could process the implications of his new ability, Arthur ran over.
"Liam! Did you lie to me? Have you driven karts before? Or played sims?"
Liam took off his helmet. He realized he might have pushed a little too hard. He blinked innocently.
"Does Mario Kart count?"
"What is... Mario Kart?" Arthur looked confused.
"It's a game that came out a while back. Pure arcade stuff. Zero realism," Mr. Chen walked up, eyeing Liam with the look of a man who'd found gold. "Young man, have you ever considered racing professionally?"
Mr. Chen had only one thought: Prodigy. Absolute prodigy.
Martina was staring at her stopwatch in disbelief.
45.101.
From a standing start.
If that had been a flying lap, he would have been in the 44s easily.
She shot a suspicious look at Arthur. She didn't buy the "first time" story for a second.
Even in Europe, she'd never seen a kid with raw instincts like that.
How could someone with no seat time and no track knowledge drive a perfect line?
But she couldn't interrogate the boy just yet. First, she had a teachable moment to deliver to her daughter, who was pulling into the pits a very distant second.