AGAINST THE RULES: their scentless omega-Chapter 67: Close call
Lucian sprang from his seat.
"Hunter, watch out!"
Hunter’s head snapped sideways. Instinct kicked in , he twisted the handle, trying to veer off course ,but a shadow surged beside him and a hand clamped onto his bike with a brutal, iron grip.
’Spike’.
The impact rattled the frame. Metal screeched against metal.
"Shit!" Hunter cursed, jaw tightening as he fought to keep balance.
The broadcast camera zoomed in, the commentator’s voice booming through the arena speakers and every holding room screen.
"Well look at that, folks! Hunter is in a tight position right now! Is this the end of one of our top dogs?!"
In the holding room, Lucian stood frozen.
His heartbeat thundered so loudly it drowned the crowd noise in his ears. The tablet trembled in his hands, the map blurring as fear clouded his vision.
"I... I really don’t know how to help you in this..." he whispered, voice cracking.
"I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry..."
Through the static of the earpiece came Hunter’s steady breath ,controlled, grounded, infuriatingly calm despite the chaos.
"Calm down, little one..." Hunter murmured.
"It’s not over yet... not as long as I don’t get off the bike."
On screen, "time for you to say bye bye , roach" Spike’s arm flexed, veins bulging beneath his sleeve as he tried to wrench Hunter’s handlebar sideways. Their bikes scraped, sparks flickering against the asphalt like fireflies dying on impact. One wrong tilt, one lost second of balance, and Hunter would be sent skidding.
But Hunter didn’t resist the force directly.
Instead, he leaned into it.
Lucian’s eyes widened.
Hunter shifted his weight lower, closer to the tank, letting Spike think he was overpowering him. The bikes drifted dangerously near the gravel edge of the road ,a fatal mistake for anyone else.
The commentator’s voice rose.
"This is insane! Spike has full control, wait... wait a second!"
Hunter’s foot slammed onto the rear brake for half a heartbeat.
The bike jolted.
Spike’s grip tightened instinctively ,and that was the opening.
Hunter twisted the throttle the instant the brake released, the engine roaring like a beast breaking its chains. The sudden acceleration yanked the bike forward violently, forcing Spike’s hold to slip for the briefest fraction of a second.
A fraction was all Hunter needed.
The red bike shot ahead, tires screaming against the pavement.
Lucian inhaled sharply, lungs burning as if he had been the one racing. His fingers dug into the edge of the desk, knuckles pale.
On the map, the two dots separated barely.
Not safe.
Not yet.
Hunter is still in danger ,Spike is really close to him
Just then , out of nowhere , another engine tore through the air like thunder.
A bike launched between them.
Spike’s eyes widened first. He swerved to avoid the collision. The incoming bike hit the ground hard, tires screeching as it skidded perfectly into the narrow gap between the two riders.
Red jacket.
Ethan.
The crowd erupted. Cheers thundered across the arena, whistles and shouts blending into a roaring wave of excitement.
"Well what do you know, folks!" the presenter boomed. "Looks like the red team has each other’s backs! That was a phenomenal save from Ethan!"
In the holding room, Lucian exhaled so sharply it almost hurt.
"Thank God..." he whispered, shoulders finally dropping from their tense height.
But relief only lasted a second before suspicion crept in.
I really didn’t expect Ethan to come and save the day... especially for someone like Hunter.
His brows drew together.
Why would he do that? Does he have some ulterior motive?
He shook his head lightly, trying to reason with himself.
They’re on the same team. The flag’s compromised. Not helping each other would guarantee a loss.
On screen, Ethan straightened his bike with effortless control, visor tilted slightly toward Spike as if issuing a silent challenge. Hunter sped forward without a word, taking advantage of the opening Ethan had created.
For a split second, Ethan didn’t follow.
He remained there ,engine idling, body still ,watching Spike.
Spike revved once, aggressive, "another roach " he spat.
Then both bikes shot off in opposite directions, dust and gravel exploding behind them.
Lucian’s fingers tightened around his tablet again.
The save had been perfect.
Too perfect.
And somewhere deep in his chest, unease lingered like a shadow that refused to move.
Ethan kept his gaze on Hunter for a brief second ,long enough to pass a message without a single word , then veered to the opposite side of the road.
Hunter clicked his tongue in irritation.
The fact that he understood him through nothing but eye contact annoyed him more than he cared to admit. Still, he shifted lanes, mirroring Ethan’s move and sealing the formation.
Two riders.
Two angles.
One target.
"The game is surely getting more interesting, ladies and gentlemen!" the presenter’s voice thundered through the speakers. "We are witnessing four top dogs going neck and neck! But which pair will come out on top?"
Spike burst into booming laughter, releasing one hand from the handlebars just to clench his fist in the air.
"Trying to play smart with me?" he barked. "I’ll crush the both of you like roaches, yah hear me?"
He mimed a punch, reckless and confident.
Ethan didn’t even glance at him.
Hunter’s expression remained cold, eyes fixed forward.
They kept riding in silence, engines humming in controlled synchronization as they boxed him in , close enough to pressure, far enough to stay out of reach. It wasn’t aggression.
It was containment.
"Easy there, big guy. Don’t forget who we’re dealing with. They wouldn’t corner you unless they already planned the next three moves ahead. Don’t underestimate them." Bulldozer said
Spike scoffed, but his grip tightened on the throttle. "And if they think they might take out someone like me , well they will have to visit a place first , which is the ICU"
Dust spiraled behind the three bikes as the road narrowed into a fork ahead , trees leaning inward like spectators closing in on the duel.
Hunter’s eyes flicked once to Ethan.
