A rich scion of Jelthorne, Owen Waller, loves cycling. I am invited as a special guest competitor to take part in the cycling competition he organizes.

But at the starting point, I see my wife, Reyna Cleveland, who brings along her junior, Timothy Spence, to compete.

As soon as I walk over, she slaps me in front of everyone.

She fumes, "Are you really this paranoid? Do you have to follow me wherever I go? Do you even know how to cycle? Why come here and make a fool of yourself?"

I am just about to take out my invitation pass when Timothy lets out a derisive laugh.

I smile in response and propose, "Then why don't we compete?"

Timothy replies, "Sure. If I lose, I will jump into the lake and swim naked. But if you lose... You'll divorce Reyna!"

I nod calmly.

What they do not know is that I was once the most talented pro rider in the country.

"Hey, looks like we've got a big talker here."

"Wait, what? Loser gets a divorce? This is gonna be fun to watch."

"These two look a few years apart. After 25, your body starts giving out, you know."

The moment I spoke, the surrounding businessmen burst into laughter.

Most of them had hired athletes for this competition, with the least experienced being club members, all aiming for the top spot.

The entire venue was packed with talent. Even the amateurs had at least five years of cycling experience.

I didn't look like a pro at all, making me the perfect target for their mockery.

My wife, Reyna Cleveland, showed a hint of concern.

At first, I thought she was worried about me. I was about to step in and set things straight, but then Reyna spoke up sarcastically.

"Skyler, you should just back out. You don't mind embarrassing yourself, but Timothy and I do. After all, he's racing on behalf of me today."

I froze for a second, then understood her meaning.

This cycling race was hosted by Owen Waller, a rich heir in Jelthorne. The winner would get a chance to work with Waller Group.

That was why these businessmen were pulling out all the stops, hiring athletes from different teams and clubs.

Reyna was no different. She was here for her small company.

The way she said it made it clear she was worried I'd embarrass her, and she feared that if Timothy and I had a private match beforehand, it would drain too much of his energy.

With my own wife humiliating me so publicly in front of everyone, I forced a tug at the corners of my mouth and remained silent.

However, her junior, Timothy Spence, wasn't about to let it slide. He stepped forward, eyeing me up and down before letting out a chuckle.

"Skyler, if you want to race, go ahead. I don't mind. But I'm worried about you running out of energy."

With that, he turned to Reyna. "Don't worry, Reyna. He won't use up much of my strength. I'll be back after a quick rest."

He chuckled again. "Today, I'll show him the difference between an amateur and a pro."

The moment he finished speaking, some of the businessmen, eager for drama, offered to provide a bike.

Noticing the situation, Timothy began introducing himself. "Good morning, everyone. I'm Timothy Spence, the representative from Vastwave Corp.

"I've ridden between 2,000 and 3,000 miles and participated in numerous leagues, including the Tour de Faldoria and various cycling festivals. I've consistently achieved strong results, and my current level is at T1."

As I listened to his list of so-called achievements, I felt nothing.

Most of those events were open to amateurs. While I had the same accomplishments, I also held certificates and trophies from professional-level competitions.

I was virtually unknown simply because my family had insisted I retire.

However, to these businessmen, Timothy's words sounded incredibly professional.

The mocking gazes from the crowd intensified, and some even began to jeer, telling me to just jump straight into the water.

"The race hasn't even started yet, and you're already talking about divorce? A bit early, don't you think?" I shook my head, my tone carrying a hint of disapproval.

But my refusal only made everyone around me think I was prideful.

"Come on. If you really can't do it, don't force it."

"Yeah, losing to a pro isn't shameful! Don't risk embarrassing yourself."

"This race isn't a joke. Everyone here has some sort of honor to their name."

Seeing my reaction, Timothy snorted and showed no mercy. "Skyler, since you're so confident, how about raising the stakes? Swimming in the lake seems too mild."

"Sure. What kind of stakes do you want to set?" I nodded slightly and said calmly, "Whatever you want to play, I'm in."

Timothy laughed, as if he'd just thought of something amusing. "Let's add quacking like a duck to the original stake. It'll be much more entertaining that way."

Reyna looked at me with growing frustration. "Skyler, have you had enough yet? We've been married all these years! I would've known if you were a cycling enthusiast! What's with this sudden show of strength?"

I couldn't help but smirk inwardly.

We'd been married for three years, and aside from the first few months, she never cared about my hobbies. She didn't even know there was a bike in our basement.

She simply didn't care at all, and now she was acting as if it was perfectly natural for her not to know.

"You should just admit defeat now," Reyna said.

Her suggestion wasn't out of concern for me but to save her dignity.

Her company wasn't huge, but it was well-known enough that some of the smaller business owners here recognized her.

I stayed quiet.

Timothy, sensing Reyna's intentions, quickly tried to comfort her. "Don't worry, Reyna. I'll go easy on Skyler. He won't lose too badly."

Upon hearing this, Reyna looked at him with a look of approval. "If only he were even half as considerate as you are, we wouldn't be dealing with all this trouble."

She said that while giving me a pointed glance.

Seeing them standing together so intimately made my heart ache.

"Alright. Since it's settled, shall we get the race started?"

Timothy began his warm-up exercises as he made his way toward the starting line. "Oh, and Skyler, this is for you."

After I finally managed to borrow a bike from one of the athletes, Timothy threw a pair of cycling shoes at my feet.

When I looked up, I met his smug face as he spoke condescendingly. "You didn't bring your own gear, right? I'll lend you these shoes. Our shoe sizes should be the same, right?"

As I glanced at the shoes, a flicker of disdain crossed my face. "Thanks, but no thanks. You keep them."

My look of disdain was plain for everyone to see, which only invited more mockery.

They all assumed I was clueless, not even knowing how essential cycling shoes were.

As their whispers grew louder, I shook my head and turned to Timothy. "No, I'm not wearing them because I don't need all that gear to beat him."

The moment I said that, it only sounded like more bragging.

"Skyler, why do you always have to embarrass me like this…"

"It's okay, Reyna. That's just how amateurs are. After a few days of practice, they start thinking they can take on the world."

Reyna looked at me with complete disappointment. After Timothy offered a few more comforting words, he began to prepare for the race.

With the flag raised by the referee, Timothy and I started the race.

His speed was astounding from the very beginning, and his pedaling cadence was impressively high.

I glanced over at him and sneered.

At the start of a race, athletes typically maintained a steady pace, and the pedaling cadence wasn't particularly fast.

That way, they could conserve energy and avoid lactic acid buildup in their legs.

Especially since neither Timothy nor I had warmed up properly, our bodies weren't fully in sync yet. If we went too hard from the start, we could easily injure our joints, causing irreversible damage.

This was a major rule in any competitive sport. I didn't understand why Timothy was accelerating so quickly right from the start. How was he planning to maintain that pace later?

But Timothy looked as though he already had the win in the bag. He was intent on crushing me from the very start. He pedaled with everything he had, and it wasn't long before he had pulled a significant lead.

I started slowly, which only led to more mockery from the businessmen around me.

"What the hell is he doing? Why's he starting so slow?"

"I've watched races before, and they're never this slow. Does he even know how to ride a bike?"

"We should just stop watching. The winner's already clear. What's there to see?"

Despite their comments, the athletes from various clubs and teams looked at my posture and pace with thoughtful expressions.

I adjusted my breathing and even took the time to admire the lake view around me, keeping a steady pace behind Timothy.

Whenever he tried to shake me off by sprinting ahead, I'd catch up to him without breaking a sweat.

Just then, I heard Reyna's angry voice crackle through my earpiece. "Skyler, if you're going to race, race properly! Why are you embarrassing me like this? I'm the blind one for ever getting involved with you! You're such a disgrace!"

Before I could even respond, Timothy's reassuring voice immediately came through. "Reyna, don't be upset. It's not worth it. You chose me, and I won't let you down."

I couldn't figure out why they were saying all this in my earpiece.

Meanwhile, the businessmen, clearly enjoying the drama, had started placing bets on who would win.

Almost everyone was betting on Timothy, and no one put any money on me.

Since my odds were ridiculously high, I decided to bet on myself. This move made the businessmen laugh out loud.

"I've never seen someone bet on themselves before! That takes guts!"

"He could've at least found a friend to place the bet for him!"

"Exactly! He just threw down 20,000 dollars without even blinking. He might end up losing the race and the money!"

Reyna's voice came through my earpiece again. "Skyler, let me make one thing clear. Any money you lose has absolutely nothing to do with Vastwave Corp or me! You'll have to figure it out yourself. I'm not giving you a single cent!"

Even though I knew this was how Reyna felt about me, hearing her reject me so bluntly in front of everyone still left me feeling a surge of resentment.

Anger bubbled up inside me. I gripped the handlebars tighter, and in that moment, my foot slipped off the pedal.

The bike swerved for an instant, but I quickly regained control.

Honestly, it wasn't even a real mistake for me, especially against someone like Timothy, who was barely competent.

But that brief moment of wobble was caught by a camera and instantly displayed on the big screen.

I heard the businessmen around me booing and mocking me.

"Did you see that? He almost wiped out when he took that turn just now, didn't he?"

"Yeah, well, he's not wearing cycling shoes. Who else is there to blame now that his feet are slipping?"

"Does he even know how to ride a bike? His movements are so weird from the start."