After many forced experiences, Lyle discovered the problem with the so-called "Auxiliary Soul," just as Mr. Delusion had said, it was hit-or-miss. Sometimes, his Spine Wheel could navigate the crossfire of three Demon Race members as nimbly as fish in water, and sometimes... it was a living nightmare.

Black Abyss Arena.

Andrey the Lich’s blood-and-flesh eyeballs were fixed on the giant screen, only feeling their hearts beating again when the white bone wheel grazed the edge of the lava pool to complete a bone-car drift, setting off an even more fervent cheer from the crowd.

Clearly, the recent mishap was regarded by people as a display of knife-edge flair, with only a few of Lyle’s seniors and mentors falling into thought, but, due to insufficient evidence, they chose to remain silent.

The eight people who had turned the Hellfire race into a game still had trembling hands on their controllers.

Mr. Gentleman exhaled a sigh of relief and handed the controller over to the operator.

"A game is just another life. It’s at this moment that I truly realize," the Gentleman smoothed the bristling goosebumps from his flesh disguise with a strange look towards that fellow. "Reporter, you nearly ended my gaming life, including both the game and life itself."

Out of seven people, the ones with the highest gaming skills were the operators, Inspiration, and Delusion, whose superior tricks placed them at the top of the disdain chain.

Then came most of the average players, including Gentleman, who didn’t perform many eye-catching maneuvers but could hang on until their high-skilled companions took over the controller when hard times struck.

Lastly, there was the godlike being.

Mr. Reporter, he created his own obstacles. I am not a challenger of difficulty; I am difficulty itself.

Recollecting Reporter’s initial grasp of the console, everyone couldn’t help but shiver.

What did Reporter do?

The Spine Wheel fell flat on the ground, skating towards the lava pool with no deceleration. The whole process was smooth and almost caught Mr. Delusion off guard.

"Mr. Plague Doctor, Child of the Holy Light, trying to commit suicide in Hell with a lava dive? Do you realize what sort of headline that would make in the Andrey News and what consequences would follow? My friend, Reporter. You’re not playing a game, you’re playing with our lives," said the Gentleman solemnly, gazing at the Shiny trio. "I think from now on, anyone in Andrey wishing to drive the Spine Wheel must pass a test and obtain a license to drive, for the sake of our flesh disguises not becoming ’daily’ items, thank you."

The Necromancer Figure Club trio offered no rebuttal, also reflecting on why they hadn’t proposed any regulations when they first released the Spine Wheel. They found the reason: they had thought the operation was too simple. Using magic to control creations was almost instinctive for Liches; even if they weren’t Spirit Summoners, Liches had a talent for manipulating puppets.

It should have been very easy, until Reporter showed up and nearly cost everyone their lives on his first try.

"I will, I’ll apply to the executive committee to add this rule to the Andrey Speed Limit Law."

The Gentleman nodded, looking past some downcast wretch to another close friend. "Delusion, could you take over the driving controls in the future? I’m really scared."

Delusion rotated his head, sparks flashing through the virtual screen’s lines.

"I was thinking the same thing. You didn’t have to say it, I would’ve suggested it."

The Reporter, feeling a part of his existence denied, protested.

"...It’s all the device’s fault, it was my first time handling it and I wasn’t familiar. Just let me try..."

"There is no next time." The Necromancer Figure Club trio guarded their device closely, the Magic Research Society duo and Literature Club pair forming a human wall as if to ward off some primordial beast. "Reporter, that was your one and only chance. If time flowed backward, I wouldn’t even give you that one chance."

"Your gaming career is over, buried as soon as it began."

Only when they saw Reporter’s face turn ashen did everyone finally breathe easy. "At least he didn’t stubbornly continue to try, that’s mercy, I guess..."

The most interested in racing games was Reporter, but he also happened to be the worst at it. This probably exemplifies the notion that the worse you are, the more you want to play.

But the reason the reporter was so bad at operating was also understandable.

The reporter himself was not a common lich, he was a Pact-Maker, the most suitable secret guardian for this era. His talent was also his curse. He had no choice but to devote most of his energy to digging up and keeping everyone’s secrets.

The reporter himself had already become a hidden puppet.

So, it was understandable that he was incompetent.

In any case, Mr. Reporter had been deprived of his control rights and retained only the privileges of a cloud player.

Within Hell, the Spine Wheel continued to move forward.

Lyle was sprawled in his flesh and blood seat which, being a relatively comfortable reclined seat, meant the audience did not notice his body had gone completely limp. The molten lava that had been moments away emitted such intense heat that his eyeballs felt as though they were being scorched.

He had once again come to within an inch of his life.

But Lyle quickly regained his composure, perhaps the only silver lining in this string of misfortunes.

"Nia, can you take control of the Spine Wheel?" To hell with any auxiliary souls. Otherwise, I’ll be going to hell, to the evil spirits of Hell.

On the inner ring of flesh, black tentacles like twisted blood vessels beneath the skin pulsed continuously. Their tips, armed with bony plates, kept probing the rapidly spinning outer ring. Those auxiliary souls’ control zones were all on the outer ring, revolving around Lyle. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

The high velocity shattered the probing black tentacles, and Nia could not touch those delusional devices set up in advance, but during the operation, the control of the flesh had been transferred, and the method of physical manipulation had again failed.

"The speed is too fast, Nia can’t touch it, unless I use my main tentacles, covered in bone spurs, to pierce through them. But then, the Spine Wheel would break down."

"Then slow down, slow enough to touch."

Lyle marshaled his magical power, then realized he couldn’t slow down.

The terrifying creature in this Spine Wheel had turned into a train bound for Hell. Oh, it was already in Hell.

Up in the stands of Black Abyss Arena.

The Gentleman watched as the Spine Wheel went faster and faster, the great contraption’s power seeming inexhaustible.

"The Spinal Giant Wheel is the culmination of the Necromancer Figure Club, and we’ve even sought external assistance. We used materials from Mr. Miracle."

"Miracle?" the Gentleman asked, looking at his friend, waiting for an explanation.

Mr. Miracle coughed twice.

"Shiny and the others did come to me with that so-called ’Dark Meat’ said to be created by the Plague Doctor, an entity with both spirit and flesh attributes. Although I don’t know its origin, I confirmed its extraordinariness. Especially after I mixed it with demonic blood. It began to show some traits of the Demon Race."

Lucky that the law wasn’t here, and Mr. Jing was far away. Miracle, once again, had experimented with dubious flesh.

And this time, he had fused the flesh of an evil god with the blood of the Demon Race.

The Demon Race, which could draw upon the power of Hell, making them incredibly powerful there.

And now, the speeding Spinal Giant Wheel was a terrifying mutant of the Demon Race, an perpetual engine within the Hell Plane.

Unless the power of Hell ran dry, the Hell Plane shattered.