Chapter 998 Extra: The Accident

• Just then, a lipstick-red sports car came tearing in from afar. It whipped into a slick drift and stopped dead in front of them. The stink of scorched rubber, mixed with exhaust, hit like a slap.
• Instinct kicked in. William Tate clamped a hand over little Mr. Apollo’s nose and mouth, making sure the kid didn’t breathe in that nasty mess.
• Then he snapped, “Who the hell are you? Don’t you have eyes? Can’t you see people standing here? What are you drifting for, your mom’s funeral?”