Red Son stands proudly beside his car, gingerly rubbing out a small dirt stain on the side. He lets out a low, confident chuckle, pulling his long hair back into a ponytail as he grabs ahold of his helmet.

“This race with certainly be an easy win,” he hums as he pulls the protective gear on. “These mere mortals have no chance of ever beating me. And then, once I win that trophy, my parents will have no choice but to finally be proud of me!”