Endurance Race Preparations #42
“You’re entering that guy in this Korea Speed Masters Championship?”
Blue Motorsports’ deputy team leader, Kim Kyung-jun, sounded flustered as he repeated Kim Ji-hyun’s words. She’d been just about to submit an entry for one pairing in the 5R endurance race at Inje.
“Yeah. Is that a problem? We’re just putting him in an N2 car for the experience. If he does well, we’ll groom him ourselves.”
Kim Kyung-jun fell silent at her words.
“I don’t know... We’ve got that promise with his mom.”
“Even if he’s got skills?”
“His skills are obviously gonna suck. He’s a street racer.”
Kim Ji-hyun frowned, clearly annoyed by Kim Kyung-jun’s response.
“You know we’ve got street racers in our Super6000 lineup too.”
“Sure, but that guy went through the elite karting path and all that. Han Dae-jin... All he’s got under his belt is a few months in an Avante N, right? And even you said he’s still green.”
“Then we teach him.”
Kim Ji-hyun lit a cigarette as she said it.
“Think it over. I’ve already decided.”
With that, she left the deputy’s office. Kim Kyung-jun sat there, lost in thought for a moment. He picked up a framed photo from his desk—a picture of him with a racer, and a young kid sandwiched in the middle. That kid was Han Dae-jin. Kim Kyung-jun wrestled with the heavy yoke of fate bearing down on him.
Kim Ji-hyun stepped out of Blue Motorsports’ headquarters in Yongin’s Jeondae-ri, deep in her own worries. Would Han Dae-jin live up to expectations? No, just finishing the race would be a win for that bastard. Dice-like thoughts tumbled in her mind.
A few hours later.
Han Dae-jin showed up for his lesson. Kim Ji-hyun drilled him from the basics again on the Inje Circuit simulator—the battlefield for the Korea Speed Masters 5th round—pushing his skills to the limit.
Han Dae-jin focused harder than ever, his face deadly serious as he drove in the sim.
During a break, she sat him on the sofa and handed him a bottle of water, taking one for herself.
“How you holding up these days? You hook up with Yoon Ha-rin again?”
Kim Ji-hyun teased.
“Nah. No balls to shove 7 million won up that bitch’s pussy.”
“Got something to tell you.”
“What?”
“I’m entering you in the Korea Speed Masters 5th round. You know it’s an endurance race, right?”
Han Dae-jin’s eyes went wide in shock. Not a sprint—an endurance race? And he hadn’t even done time trials or time attacks yet...
“Huh?”
“No joke. We’re testing everything you’ve honed so far. The car’s an Avante N tuned like an N Festival N2 spec—coilovers, brake setup, mapping, the works. You and me.”
Han Dae-jin spat out his water.
“That’s too intense, no? Like a 2-hour race?”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s a test run for you. Just finish it. No entry fee. But if you say yes, no backing out. Run and I’ll hunt you down and neuter your ass.”
Han Dae-jin burst out laughing.
“Got it, Your Majesty. If it’s like that, I’m in. But I’ve only got the Hans and helmet for gear.”
“Be at Sunbawi Station by 10 a.m. tomorrow, BM Corporation. I’ll pick gear with you.”
He nodded. The lesson resumed, and Han Dae-jin cranked up the pace under her laser-focused glare, tearing through the sim.
The next day.
Han Dae-jin parked in front of BM Corporation and spotted Kim Ji-hyun pulling up in a Bond car—a Volante spec with the top down, pure Bond girl vibes.
She parked, dropped the top, and stepped out.
“Hop in.”
She led him up to the second floor and buzzed the intercom.
“It’s Kim Ji-hyun. Anyone home?!”
She joked into it, and the door swung open. The BM Corporation owner greeted them with a grin.
“Get me that Sabelt TS-10 suit, UI-600 undersuit, and balaclava set you mentioned last night.”
The owner scanned Han Dae-jin’s build and handed over a size 52 suit, fire-resistant undersuit, and balaclava set.
Han Dae-jin changed in the fitting room and emerged.
“How’s it feel?”
“Comfy. Feels good.”
“You pay.”
“Me? How much is this?”
“3.36 million won.”
“Fuck me.”
Han Dae-jin couldn’t hold back the curse.
“You bought the helmet last time, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Shoes too.”
The owner pulled out a TB-11 model and fitted it on him. Size 260—surprisingly comfy. Han Dae-jin was impressed.
“That’s almost 4 million already,” Kim Ji-hyun said with a smirk, watching his face sour.
“Shoes?”
“710,000 won.”
He reeled. His card had enough limit left, but he was already mentally dividing it into 36-month installments.
Finally, gloves. Kim Ji-hyun picked the top-tier TG-11s unilaterally. Her logic: cheap shit just gets replaced anyway, so same cost. 340,000 won.
Plus, at her insistence, four UI-600 undersuits and four balaclavas—for changing every 2-3 days during the event.
“Total...”
Han Dae-jin paid and signed up for 36 months. Kim Ji-hyun snickered behind him.
“Good job, punk. Sis’ll get you a gear bag.”
She bought him a bag for all the equipment to wrap it up.
He stuffed everything in and trudged down from the second floor.
“Oh yeah. Printing on the suit or overlock?”
“Overlock. Prints are a pain to remove if they suck.”
She nodded in agreement.
They headed to a Gangnam restaurant for lunch. Han Dae-jin’s chopsticks trembled as he scooped rice.
“Scary, huh?”
Kim Ji-hyun chuckled.
“Man, I never dropped that much on a car.”
“Listen, punk. I made you buy quality so it lasts. Gear’s yours—pay for it, treat it right. Money? Earn more.”
He said nothing, just ate.
After, they parted. Han Dae-jin returned to his Suwon semi-basement, parked, hauled the gear inside.
He set the racing kit in one corner, packed the helmet and Hans in the bag. Felt like a shonen manga protag.
But no 36-month installments in those stories. He sighed at the reminder.
In the heavy, depressing air, he edited footage from today with Kim Ji-hyun. Roughly done, he crashed on the bed.
Yoon Ha-rin’s tightness flashed in his mind. That maddening hip sway. Jerk off? Nah.
Too tired. He slept till evening.
Missed a call from Min Hee-yeon. He rang back late.
“Sorry, was out cold.”
“Dae-jin, you moved, right?”
Oh yeah, didn’t tell her.
“Yeah.”
“Text the address. I’m coming over.”
He did. She arrived soon after, horrified by the dingy semi-basement.
But her eyes locked on the new racing gear.
“What’s this? How much? Racing suit, right? Sabelt? Fucking expensive!”
She yanked it from the bag. He told her the price.
“You fucking asshole. I told you no racing. What? That bitch Kim Ji-hyun? You screwing her again? Get over here!”
Min Hee-yeon stormed from the second room to the first, grabbing his collar.
“Kim Ji-hyun noona’s teaming with me for a race.”
“Why the fuck do I have to hear this shit here? Ask my permission. How many times? Forget racing—succeed in the real world.”
Han Dae-jin sighed. She glared a while, then flopped onto his bed.