?Chapter 750:


    Dn and Elliott fell silent. They exchanged a look, their shared anxiety palpable. They desperately wanted to take her ce, but they couldn’t. It came down to one choice—trust her, or drag her out by force.


    Slowly, Dn unclenched his tightly balled fist. He couldn’t stand by and watch Christina walk into a deathtrap. Even if it meant defying the entire world to save her, he would do it without hesitation.


    His mind made up, he reached for her, ready to escort her out of this ce and leave the race behind—just as she spoke up. “My decision is final. You should go.”


    Dn’s and Elliott’s raised hands dropped.


    “You don’t have to take up the race. I’ll keep you safe, even if it means standing against the world,” Elliott said, his voice thick with emotion.


    Dn’s body stiffened. His fists tightened again. Elliott had spoken the very words on his own tongue. A sharp, unreadable look shed in his eyes as he shot Elliott a nce.


    Christina smiled. “Thank you. But this is a fight I have to face.”


    She had a strange strength. The more critical the situation, the calmer she became. It was what made her so perfect for the death race. The notion that her heart might give out during the race? She almostughed. As if that would ever happen.


    Seeing they still hadn’t moved, she added, “Don’t worry. I don’t walk into battles I know I’ll lose. Trust me.”


    Then, she turned and walked away, calling over her shoulder, “Save the rest for when I get back.”


    Her voice was strong and sure. It echoed inside them. In that moment, she looked like a modern-day Bellona marching to war. It was as if they could already hear the roar of a triumphant crowd, a sound that drew closer and closer, making their own blood sing with anticipation.


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    Dn and Elliott fell silent for a moment. Realizing they couldn’t sway Christina no matter what, they exchanged a bitter look and walked off the racetrack.<fncdfb> Th? link to the orig?n of this information r?sts ?n fin?novel</fncdfb>


    Christina exhaled a quiet breath of relief as they made their way back to the audience stands. Then, she turned on her heel and headed toward Alfred, still willing—somehow—to give him onest shot.


    “I’ll give you one more chance to rethink this,” Christina said, her voice gentler now. She wasn’t holding any grudge against him. If he was willing to take the right path, she was ready to let go of what he’d done before.


    But Alfred didn’t have the faintest clue what Christina was thinking, nor did he understand how formidable she truly was. In his eyes, she was just bluffing—stalling in the hopes that he’d back out of the race on his own. But how could he fall for such tricks?


    He looked her over with a smug face and said, “Miss Jones, I know exactly what game you’re ying, and I’m telling you now—don’t waste your time. Let me make it simple. At this point, whether you want to or not, you’re going into that death race!”


    Alfred had made his stance clear—he would not back down from the challenge. If he stepped down now, Christina would escape the death race altogether. That was the one oue he absolutely couldn’t allow. His aim had never changed. He wanted Christina to die on that track. Whether she quit or went through with the race, she’d be finished. If she surrendered, she’d lose the bet. If she didn’t, she’d crash into the gas barrels and burn in the mes.


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