Ultimate Evolution I Became the Master of the World
Chapter 35 Is This Still a Human?

Declan's family was holed up at home, shaking like leaves.

Meanwhile, Michael was in a cab, racing to Sophia's place.

"Hey, can you step on it? I'm in a rush," he said, his voice tight with urgency.

"Buddy, you know there's a speed limit, right? Speed cameras everywhere. I can't go any faster without getting a ticket," the cabbie replied. "This is as fast as it gets."

"But it feels like I'm running faster than this," Michael grumbled.

The driver shot back, "Just chill, man. Do you see any car going faster than mine?"

At this speed, by the time he got to Sophia's home, they might already be toast.

Saving them? Yeah, right. Almost impossible.

"Three lives and fifty grand," he muttered to himself.

Michael touched the back of his hand, feeling the dormant eye under his skin, and hesitated.

If he used the Ghost Realm, he'd be at Sophia's in no time.

But that meant burning one use of the ghost's power.

And using that power was like playing with fire. Last time at school, he swallowed an eye to kickstart the ghost's revival and used the Ghost Realm. When he got home, he was almost paralyzed. Luckily, he had a red paper to cover one of the demon's eyes, barely keeping it in check.

He had no clue how long that red paper would hold.

After a moment of thinking and second-guessing, he made up his mind.

"Look, no offense, but your speed is killing me. Mind if I drive?" Michael patted the driver's shoulder.

"You drive?" The driver scoffed, "You think you can do better? I've been driving for twenty years. Pay me a grand, I'll get you there in ten minutes. Five grand, and I'll run red lights and get you there in five."

"Five minutes? Too slow. If I drive, one minute tops," Michael said.

"Yeah, right. If you can get to the neighborhood in one minute, I won't charge you a dime," the driver said, clearly not buying it. "I've been driving in Astoria forever. I know how long it takes."

Michael didn't argue. The flesh under his clothes tore open, and eyes appeared.

A red light enveloped his body.

Then it spread out, covering the taxi.

"You promise, one minute to the neighborhood, and it's free," Michael said calmly.

"Sure," the driver said, just as he found himself in the passenger seat, instinctively pressing the brake, but there was nothing there.

And Michael was suddenly behind the wheel.

"How did you do that?" The driver was stunned, his face a mask of shock.

Michael didn't answer. He just gripped the steering wheel and floored it.

The car's speed shot up.

"Brake! Brake! We're gonna crash! There's a sports car ahead, I can't afford to hit it. Turn the wheel!" The driver was pale with fear. Michael said, "Relax."

Before the driver could react, the taxi caught up with the sports car, then sped up even more.

The car became a blur, passing right through the sports car.

"Help!" The driver, thinking they were about to crash, closed his eyes and screamed, clutching his seatbelt.

The guy in the sports car hadn't even processed what happened when he saw a taxi suddenly in front of him, spewing exhaust in his face.

"A taxi going this fast dares to overtake my million-dollar sports car?" The guy dropped his phone and slammed on the gas.

The sports car's engine roared to life, and it shot forward, chasing after the taxi.

The taxi Michael was driving wasn't just a taxi anymore. He'd wrapped it in the Ghost Realm, warping reality around it.

And he was the ghost in the machine.

But the guy in the sports car, feeling challenged, chased after him.

The sports car honked.

Michael glanced over and saw the guy roll down his window and flip him off.

Michael smirked and stuck both middle fingers out the window in return.

"So cocky," the guy fumed, letting go of the steering wheel to flip both middle fingers back.

Michael, stone-faced, kept flipping him off, not even glancing at the road ahead.

The guy looked ahead.

It was a green light, and the road was clear. Determined, he kept flipping both middle fingers.

The two locked eyes, middle fingers raised, not saying a word.

Three seconds in, the guy tensed up, ready to brake at any moment.

Four seconds, he started to sweat.

Five seconds, he glanced ahead and began to slow down.

But Michael kept staring at him, middle fingers steady, foot on the gas, not slowing down at all. He had a second pair of eyes watching the road.

Six seconds, Michael suddenly pointed at the guy, then ahead.

The guy looked and saw brake lights ahead. Panicking, he slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel.

The screeching of brakes echoed down the road.

The sports car spun twice, finally crashing into the greenery on the side.

"Shit, that maniac drives like he doesn't care about his life," the guy muttered, getting out of the car, shaken.

He looked up and was stunned.

He saw the taxi, glowing faintly red, run a red light, somehow weaving through seven or eight cars, and disappearing down the road. "No, that's not a maniac, that's a master."

The guy lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag, eyes filled with admiration.

This dude let go of the steering wheel, didn't look ahead, and floored it. It wasn't just about driving skills; it was about guts.

He'd never seen someone with such a calm gaze.

His father was right, people like this really existed in the world.

Because of this driving duel, the guy began to admire Michael. If he met him again, he'd definitely ask for advice.

"I don't know him. Why did he flip me off? Never mind, saving lives and making money is more important," Michael murmured. Michael gripped the steering wheel, frowning.

He weaved through traffic, greenery, and buildings, finally reaching the neighborhood entrance in one minute.

As soon as the car stopped, the driver bolted out and started puking by the side.

His eyes were wide with fear.

But Michael, still glowing faintly red, got out and glanced at the driver.

The driver hadn't seen the bizarre scenes of passing through everything. To him, it was just crazy speeding.

Creating illusions was the most basic ability of the Ghost Realm.

But the limit of using the Ghost Realm was five minutes.

After five minutes, the ghost inside him would start to revive a bit.

So since he had already used the Ghost Realm, he couldn't waste any time.

Michael called Declan, "Hey, Declan, which building and floor are you on? I'm coming over."

Michael hoped they weren't dead yet, or he'd have to mourn them and call the cops.