First Circuit Run
“Finally heading to the circuit? Where?”
Kim Ji-hyun asked Han Dae-jin, who was deep into a lesson session with her. He replied that he was going to Inje Circuit with Lee Hyun-woo, Kim Jong-jin, and a few other Club Assa members.
“Inje... nice. The course is honestly a total shitshow, but everyone's been there so many times that all the lines are already mapped out. I just don't like that bathhouse vibe.”
As she said it, Kim Ji-hyun instructed Han Dae-jin to ease off the brake a bit more smoothly. Even as she spoke, her mind wandered back to that time not long ago when she'd sucked him off without thinking. Did I really have feelings like this for this kid? Should she draw a line? But it was too familiar, and she felt this urge to look after him—it made it hard to pull away cleanly.
“Let's take a break. Sit down.”
Kim Ji-hyun called the exhausted Han Dae-jin over to the sofa and paused Assetto Corsa for a moment. As he sat and chugged some bottled water, she grabbed one too.
“How was it?”
“What?”
“Last time.”
“Ah... I don't know, it was good or whatever, but when it actually happens for real, it's kinda... disorienting.”
Kim Ji-hyun burst out laughing at his words.
“How many times a month do you hook up with that married chick?”
“Uh... hard to say. She's got kids and a husband to deal with, so maybe three or four times?”
“What the fuck, it's not like you're hitting up some massage parlor...”
Han Dae-jin averted his eyes, looking a bit flustered by her comment. For a split second, Kim Ji-hyun considered just kissing him, but she hesitated. She swallowed hard, staring at him intently as she mulled something over.
“Lie down for a sec.”
Han Dae-jin awkwardly stretched out on the sofa. Before long, Kim Ji-hyun stripped off her hotpants and panties, straddled his stomach, yanked down his pants, and pressed her pussy right against his face. He got the idea quick and went to town, licking her wildly and slipping fingers inside. Kim Ji-hyun returned the favor, sucking him hard until he stiffened up. As she went full throttle on collecting his load, Han Dae-jin plunged his tongue deep or teased her clit relentlessly. She writhed and moaned, and soon enough, he blew a massive load. Kim Ji-hyun got up, swallowed every drop, and rinsed her mouth with water. Then she pulled her panties and pants back on. He did the same. They finished the rest of the lesson in awkward silence.
When it wrapped up, Kim Ji-hyun saw Han Dae-jin out the door, then whistled to call him back.
“Didn't stick it in my pussy, so that doesn't count as fucking, got it? We just jerked each other off.”
“Ah... yeah, got it.”
“Drive safe, then. Hit me up if anything comes up.”
With that, Kim Ji-hyun sent him off. The moment she shut the door, she let out the breath she'd been holding and panted heavily. What the hell is this feeling? What did I just do to that kid? It was all that raced through her head.
The next day, after work, Han Dae-jin pulled up to the first meet spot at Gimpo Coffee Special. Kim Jong-jin, Lee Hyun-woo, and Hyun-woo's girlfriend were already there. He greeted them and sat down awkwardly. Soon the other members trickled in, and Han Dae-jin introduced his still bone-stock Avante N while exchanging hellos.
“Slap an aid wing on that, it'd look sick.”
“Just let the boss remap it.”
“Wait, you extended the warranty?”
“Shove those N Fest wheels on it.”
“R-tune and let's hit N2.”
Han Dae-jin just grinned as the members chimed in one after another. Once everyone was there, he gave a quick lodging briefing and they hit the road. Their spot was a motel on the outskirts of Inje. With help from Kim Jong-jin and Lee Hyun-woo, who'd booked ahead, he sorted the rooms. Han Dae-jin ended up bunking with Kim Jong-jin.
After a long drive, the crew finally reached the promised land of Inje. Han Dae-jin unpacked in the room with Kim Jong-jin (not that there was much—just some underwear) and got ready for bed. With only a single bed, he offered it to Kim Jong-jin.
“So why're you even running circuits?” Kim Jong-jin asked him.
“To stack up skills I wanna beat someday.”
“Who the hell wants to win at the circuit?”
“Someone'll show up eventually, right?”
Kim Jong-jin seemed pretty intrigued by the back-and-forth.
“But the one you wanna beat—isn't she still out on the streets?”
“Feels like she'll end up here eventually too.”
“That's a funny story. You got all these gearheads who talk big but never set foot on a track their whole lives. I like guys who actually do shit. You hear circuit and boom, you're going—that makes you one crazy bastard. Get some early sleep. License run tomorrow.”
Han Dae-jin killed the lights, lay on the floor, and tried to crash.
The next morning, at Kim Jong-jin's insistence that they needed to arrive way before license run time, the group headed to Inje Circuit bright and early. On the winding road along Naerincheon, the members pushed their speeds, but Han Dae-jin held back—saving his tires for the license run and track sessions.
Then a voice chat message pinged from Lee Hyun-woo in the group messenger.
“Dae-jin! Pick it up! Gotta burn those tires on the way!”
Just as Han Dae-jin went to floor it, Kim Jong-jin—who was riding shotgun—grabbed his hand on the gearstick.
“Don't chase their pace. Stick to yours. Those PX4S tires'll shred quick on track, so nurse 'em. And burning rubber here won't stick anyway—it cools fast on the brakes.”
Han Dae-jin just upshifted one more and cruised steadily. They arrived at the circuit, and Han Dae-jin was awestruck by the brutal incline. Cars from the first session were already ripping, revving their exhausts to the moon. He headed up to the pit's second floor to sign up for the license run and a session, then back down to the first floor. Awkwardly, he strapped on his new helmet, gloves, and HANS device.
He fumbled the HANS clips, so Kim Jong-jin yanked off the half-attached strap, snatched it away.
“Kid still on three-point belts thinking he's wearing a HANS?”
Han Dae-jin took it back and stashed it in the trunk. The others wore bike helmets or cheap open-face ones. He was the only one rocking a legit FIA-certified steel DEX helmet.
“Whoa, Dae-jin, a DEX? You competing or what?” Lee Hyun-woo teased, eyeing it.
“Nah... just looked badass.”
“You can use that one for races later.”
License run time rolled around. With Kim Jong-jin riding along, Han Dae-jin finally set foot on the circuit for the first time. Safety car at the exit, license cars lined up. Staff checked the license tags, and the safety car peeled out. Following Kim Jong-jin's cues, Han Dae-jin rolled forward slow.
Past the pit road that felt like it'd rip your body apart like a sled on steroids, into Turn 4. Safety car still leading. Yellow flags everywhere. Finally, yellows off, safety car pits—and Kim Jong-jin told him to wave the fast cars by. Han Dae-jin hung dead last and got rolling.
Terror of Turn 1. Even at low speed, braking sent the rear twitching, but he stayed cool, threw in a touch of countersteer, and kept it hooked. Through 1, 2, and 3, Kim Jong-jin hammered on watching the curbs. Hit the Turn 3 curb, and the Avante N launched toward the grass. Charging into Turn 4 like that, Han Dae-jin downshifted calm to second and eased through slow. Then the dropping S-line into Turn 5. Grazed the curb a bit, followed Kim Jong-jin's line to the middle, gradually fed throttle, and powered on.
Suddenly a red flag dropped. Everyone back to pits. Han Dae-jin, helmet still on, dashed upstairs for his license.
“Good?” Kim Jong-jin asked.
It was a three-year one.
“Hell yeah.”
“Pulled a full three-year. Real deal, you fucker.”
Han Dae-jin beamed. Kim Jong-jin dragged him downstairs, showed him how to use the Longacre air pressure gauge, and had him check pressures and discs. And just like that, circuit life kicked off.