Wreck-it Ralph Cars 소설 & 이야기

Five. Six separate convoys of cars, each with the same cold, calculated elegance. The kind of elegance that made your stomach drop and your blood run cold. Matte black vehicles, long and sleek, but not like anything out of a dealership. These were older—classic bodies reinforced with something that shimmered unnaturally in the estate lights. Reinforced for war. Armored with spells.

Just an old building sitting there like it had nothing to hide. My phone buzzed. Walter. "Boss, I've sent the men. They should arrive any second now." I didn't respond right away. My eyes were locked on the warehouse entrance. And then I saw them. Five cars pulling out from the side of the building. Black Hiluxes and Range Rovers, the kind of vehicles that screamed money and power. The windows were tinted so dark I couldn't see who was inside, but I didn't need to. I knew.

' I hissed inside my head, looking at him unbelievably. He turned his back to walk away but stopped when a car suddenly honked from a distance, before it finally stopped in front of us. Both of us looked at the car. The door from the driver's seat, suddenly opened and a guy in his late thirties, wearing a gray suit, hop off the car with an umbrella on his hand. He came to the shed with his fast pace and started apologizing. "Young miss! Forgive me. The repair took awhile and something happened on the way so-"

Chapter 61 He looked around the garage. There were at least ten cars, not counting the one destroyed in the accident—his favorite, the black SUV. Beside it, the other SUV he had given to Maitê, the classic sedans, and a convertible he didn’t even remember buying. Everything was impeccable, thanks to the driver’s care. Rafael walked over to the key rack on the wall and picked up the key to the black Mercedes, the model he used to enjoy driving the most before buying the SUV. It had been a long time since he had touched its steering wheel. He ran his thumb over the key.

Marcus looks at Gerard and nods. “I respect that, he isn’t needed here anyway” Marcus says and continues to move. There are no other workers in the shop apart from Steven. There is an Audi A3, a Ford fusion, a red impala and a Porsche Cayman. “Porsche Cayman. Man, you have got something good here,” Samuel says. “Is that my mom’s car?” Rachael asks as she spots the Impala. “Yes. I took the liberty of fixing her up. I hope you don’t mind,” Steven says.

“Because if you do speak—about any of this—it could get very bad for you, all right? Like, you might disappear one night. Nobody would hear from you again. You get me?” Trent nods so vigorously we feel a neck-bone pop. “Good.” Tweedledum turns to regard the spectacular wreck of the purple Cadillac. Fluid drools from its cracked engine, and the frame is a crumpled mess, but the impact failed to pop the trunk with its inconvenient corpse. Just wait until the cops find that juicy treat. “Get a move on,” Tweedledum says, “before too many people show up.” “I . . . ” Trent points at the wrecked cars. “Can, uh, I get a ride?”

I suggested. "Not yet," Adrian disagreed. "We can't close the mall for nothing. Come with me." He instinctively grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, startling us both. We got to the toy section and paused. When he let go, the sudden coolness left me unexpectedly upset. "What are we doing?" I asked, my brows furrowed. "I want to pick a car model for Raph," Adrian replied. "A really nice one. Something he would love." "He admires the die-cast cars," I revealed. "Like the Porsche or Lamborghini."

Daniel responded, taking his files to the study. Few minutes later, Blaze arrived in his new edition sports car accompanied by three exceptionally beautiful models from his music video. Tresh’s security could only appreciate from a distance as they accepted the keys to park away the luxurious car. Each week they graded which one of their bosses many girls was the most beautiful and most importantly most respectful. Immediately after that, Big G arrived with his rarest monster vehicle and also handed Tresh’s security his keys. “My men!” Tresh exclaimed, welcoming his best friends. The three of them were brought together by the love of music years ago. After some shaky start in their careers t

The three cars were all luxury cars. The leading one was a red Ferrari, the one on the right was a Ford Raptor, and the one on the left was a Mercedes-Benz G. With Yang Xiao's eyesight, he could tell at a glance that all three cars had been modified, and their explosive power was amazing. At the edge of the crisis, Yang Xiao did not hesitate. She quickly hung up, stepped on the gas pedal, and turned the steering wheel. The Beetle, relying on its petite body, shot out of between the red Ferrari and the Ford Raptor.

I drove, knuckles white on the wheel, my mind already trying to piece the rest together, but as we turned onto the highway, we had to slow. Lights. Smoke. A crumpled shape just off the road, hazard lights flickering weakly. “Looks bad,” Frederick said grimly. My gaze swept over the wreck and the two cars involved as we passed by. Something clawed at my gut as I recognized the car, the color of the bumper, and the missing headlight. “No…” I whispered, slamming on the brakes. “What—?” “That’s Mila’s car.” I threw the SUV into park, barely waiting for it to stop before I jumped out. Frederick shouted after me, but his voice was just a dull echo behind the blood roaring in my ears.