Old hand, please show me the ropes.

"Hello? Yaoyao, I’ll be back tomorrow. Yes, there are still some things I need to take care of. Okay, I love you too."

After ending the call with Su Mengyao, Li Jie headed straight for the "Surging Wave Motorcycle Club," which doubled as a training ground. It had open areas for beginners looking to get a higher license class, as well as off-road tracks and racing circuits—one of the few large-scale motorcycle training grounds in Sanjiang Province.

The motorcycle stunt area was divided into several sections, offering both standard stunt performances and technical motorcycle rentals and modification services. The venue fees were quite reasonable—just one hundred and fifty yuan per hour.

If you didn’t have a bike, you could rent one on the spot. There was some overlap between those who did parkour or street fitness and technical motorcycle enthusiasts, so it wasn’t unusual to see plenty of muscular, tank-topped men showing off their physiques around the technical tracks.

Li Jie rented a small, semi-indoor arena. After his license was checked and his bike inspected, he was allowed to bring his own motorcycle inside.

Protective gear was mandatory, and since Li Jie was an unfamiliar face—tall and burly at that—the safety officer was curious to see what he was up to.

To everyone’s astonishment, Li Jie pulled several targets from his backpack, set them up, and started riding his motorcycle while throwing knives on the move…

“What the hell…” the safety officer muttered, dumbfounded. He grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Lao Wang, there’s a prodigy at Arena Three. Seriously, if you don’t believe me, check the surveillance yourself.”

Front wheel up, leaning forward—throwing a knife. Bullseye!

A hard brake, lifting the rear wheel for a 180-degree pivot—another knife thrown. Bullseye again!

A sudden drift mid-ride, his knee pads nearly smoking from friction, and in the split second his bike straightened, he let another knife fly—another direct hit!

“Holy shit…” In the monitoring room, several safety officers were left utterly speechless.

Others came here to practice motorcycle stunts. Technically, this was a stunt too—but what on earth was he doing?

Li Jie finally felt a sense of absolute harmony between man and machine; this knife-throwing skill was just one of the dog system’s many glitches.

Reward for filming "Black Cat Hero Cop": Ability to purchase any talent or skill used during the shoot.

Normally, the system’s host wouldn’t have much reputation value to spend.

But Li Jie was different. After transmigrating, he’d spent over ten years copying nursery rhymes and pop songs, amassing a mountain of reputation points. So whenever the system updated its reputation shop, Li Jie could buy whatever he wanted without hesitation.

The “Vehicle Stunt Operation (Intermediate)” skill, for example, cost only a thousand reputation points, and Li Jie had over a hundred thousand extra floating points, with more than two hundred million fixed.

So he’d successfully exploited the system. In the past, he hadn’t been willing to start filming “Masked Calabash Man” right away because the system didn’t guarantee profits. But things had changed—now he had his “Boss Li” persona, and could afford any losses.

Besides, “Masked Calabash Man” could now churn out profits endlessly, so why worry about shooting “Black Cat Hero Cop”?

He breezed through various low-difficulty obstacles, finding them all effortless. Satisfied, he wrapped up for the day.

Next, he spoke with the club manager, intending to find a designer for a motorcycle obstacle course so he could build a private one for himself in Jianye.

But the negotiation fell through. The club owner was wary that Li Jie might be trying to poach talent.

Anyone capable of designing a proper obstacle course usually had racing experience and was now either a shareholder or a key racer at their club.

Besides, serious motorcycle racing was still a niche in Sanjiang Province. Most riders on the street were just “Ghost Fire” types masquerading as “knights.”

So Boss Li’s idea didn’t quite fly. Still, since business was business, the club pointed him in the right direction—he could try recruiting on the motorcycle enthusiasts’ forum.

If he had the eye to spot hidden talent, he’d be in luck; if not, and ended up with some middle-aged “Ghost Fire” scammers looking for a free meal, that was just his bad luck.

Though the forum was small and niche, it was genuinely useful. The Surging Wave Motorcycle Club even managed its own section there for connecting with peers in Sanjiang, organizing occasional club events, and posting prize announcements.

Boss Li logged in, eager to browse. He found the forumers’ discussions refreshingly direct and full of substance.

Especially in the modification section—some madmen had even built rocket-powered motorcycles.

One three-wheeler with a rocket booster in the back reached a mind-blowing six hundred kilometers per hour on a hardened road in the western regions. Still, that was far from the world record.

This daredevil was determined to push his rocket booster further and break a thousand kilometers per hour. After each run, the bike was scrap metal—his infamous signature.

Others specialized in electric motors, with electric bikes reaching three hundred fifty kilometers per hour, not far from the global record.

Still others focused on prototype modifications, optimizing stock engines without altering them. One lunatic had taken a household bike with a top speed of ninety kilometers per hour and, without changing the engine, pushed it past one-eighty.

In short, the forum was packed with geeks and extreme sports lovers, their wild ideas never-ending—though scams abounded, too, targeting both money and equipment.

One lightweight design engineer had been swindled out of aerospace-grade steel. Others were duped by “spiritual little sisters” in yoga pants, who thought all men on luxury bikes were fools, only to be outnumbered by the site’s sharp-witted “spiritual little brothers.”

After just ten minutes of browsing, Boss Li saw a slew of posts condemning “scumbag men.”

He had no interest in such gossip. All he wanted was to find a master to help him, then quickly get “Black Cat Hero Cop” approved for production.

Speedy filming and completion were the real priorities—moving on from the dog system as soon as possible.

When he entered the obstacle course section, he found plenty of heated arguments—club fans sparring, star racers feuding, and gossip about transfers, poaching, sabotage, even underground betting rings.

While searching for course designers and coaches, Li Jie discovered a veteran racer named Wang Bo, who apparently had a grudge against that bastard Yang Ying.

Boss Li was instantly intrigued and began combing through old posts.

He learned that Wang Bo was once the top racer for the Daxing Team. A few years ago, after a crash in the Liaodong Rally, the team manager—who was also the young master of the Daxing Consortium’s pan-entertainment division, now the chairman of Daye Films, Yang Ying—cut him loose.

Back then… Mr. Yang was still young, and even as the “Flying Naked Man,” his belly wasn’t such an eyesore.

But if Yang wasn’t physically offensive then, he was certainly ruthless. Seeing Wang Bo’s recovery was hopeless, he bought out the rest of his contract and kicked him out.

Motorcycle racing isn’t exactly mainstream entertainment. Dropping a rider like Wang Bo meant nothing in the grand scheme.

Wang Bo, embittered, turned dark but could do nothing to Yang Ying except rant impotently on the forum.

He’d been grumbling for years, almost like a male version of Lady Xianglin.

But old threads testified to Wang Bo’s technical skills. He occasionally consulted for new teams as a mechanic and was highly regarded for his expertise—though he was emotionally unpleasant to work with, thanks to Yang Ying’s betrayal.

Boss Li realized this was the perfect fit for him.

Without delay, he sent a private message to Wang Bo’s forum ID, “1000cc Knowledge Sage”: Veteran, teach me—take me under your wing…