Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 41: Aston Martin One-77

They walked to the driveway garage which was under the building. A dim. chamber-like vast room with white lights at every corner.

The first car to test drive was the Lamborghini Aventador

Lana presented the Aventador to him.

"6.5L V12, 700 horsepower, 0 to 60 in 2.9 seconds. This car is loved by drivers who live for excitement."

Darren didn't reply to that. He only placed the briefcase on the wall beside her and slid into the driver's seat.

Dim dim.

The soft music sang. The cabin was tight, cockpit-like. As he turned the ignition, the engine roared— a raw, untamed beast.

Out on the test track, Darren pushed the car hard. 0-60 mph in 2.9 seconds. Each gear shift slammed like a hammer. He took the corners aggressively, feeling the weight of the AWD system, the brutal grip keeping it stable even at high speeds.

"Jesus," Lana muttered as she watched him drive and swirl around her.

"Not bad," he muttered, pulling back into the lot. "But it lacked finesse. Too aggressive," he said once he stepped out.

Lana was staring at him differently and only snapped out of it when he said, "Next?"

"Excuse me. Next is the Ferrari 458 Italia"

She was more attentive now.

"This one is different. Naturally aspirated, 562 horsepower, but it's about balance. If the Lambo is a hammer, this is a scalpel."

Darren didn't reply once more. He just got in.

He turned on the engine, and drove.

Smoother. Lighter. The naturally aspirated V8 sang at 9,000 RPM, a more refined, exhilarating symphony. The balance was perfect, mid-engine layout giving it razor-sharp handling.

Lana watched him drive, arms crossed over the file on her chest.

"Better," Darren admitted when he was done. But still not quite right.

Eyebrows creased, Lana stared at him. You've got to be kidding.

"Most people hesitate in that last corner," she commented. "You didn't. You're a very talented driver for your age."

Darren didn't respond. 'I've been driving for thirteen years. Would be an idiot if I'm not better at it than others my age.'

The McLaren MP4-12C was next.

Turbocharged. Lightning-fast shifts. The dual-clutch transmission made every acceleration feel instantaneous. But something was missing—character.

The McLaren was a clinical machine. Fast, efficient, but soulless.

Darren exited before the track was finished.

"Not this one."

Lana smirked. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"The last on the list is the Aston Martin One-77. Don't worry. If you can't seem to decide on one from the list, I can suggest others for you."

Lana hesitated before handing him the keys.

"This is… different. Handmade, only 77 in existence. If a Rolls-Royce and an F1 car had a child, this would be it."

Darren stared at the One-77. "Do you know what number it is?"

She frowned. "What?"

Darren shot her a look of his blue eyes. "Out of the 77 in existence do you know what number this one is?"

Taken off by the question, Lana shook her head. "No, I don't. I've nev—"

"Number 76," he said. "Bought at an auction by Chance Delacroix but never drove it once."

Lana stared at him.

"The second to the last one ever made. It's sold more on reputation than on its properties. And the properties are already pretty impressive."

Saying nothing more, Darren stepped forward and entered the vehicle, leaving the dealer in a loss for words.

Once he got in, he hesitated to close the door. Then he turned to her. "Get in."

She frowned. "Me?"

"Well, yes."

Lana blushed. "Ugh. I don't think that's appropriate."

"You wouldn't want to miss this. And besides, that's how other dealerships inspect test drives, isn't it?"

Lana hesitated for a moment, before smiling. "Okay."

She scurried on her heels around the car as Darren pulled open the door for her.

Once she got in, they both closed the doors. Lana looked at him and smiled, Darren simply told her to "Put your seatbelt on."

She did and he turned it on the car. The deep, controlled growl of the 7.3L V12 sent a shiver down Lana's spine.

On the track, it was perfection.

It had power— 750 horsepower, but it didn't shout. It commanded.

Darren drove round and round on the track, completely in sync with the car. Every turn and every acceleration was seamless.

It had the balance of the Ferrari, the prestige of the Lamborghini, and the sheer elegance of a bespoke grand tourer.

"Alright. I'm impressed." Lana commented once they got out of the vehicle.

Darren stepped out. "This is the one."

Lana gazed at him with a big uncontrollable smile on her face. She even bit her lip.

"I'm happy you were able to find the one you like. Can we head on to contract agreements?"

"Yes, please."

"Come with me."

They headed on together to the contract office while a worker drove the car out into the front of the building for them.

"The One-77 is $1.5 million. We offer service packages—"

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

"Forget about add-ons."

Lana narrowed her eyes. "That's unusual. Most buyers usually prefer add-ons."

"Let's assume I'm not most buyers," Darren said, sitting straight on the chair. "Then there's no reason why I would want features or add-ons."

A pause.

"You sound like... you've bought a car before," Lana said with a thoughtful tone.

"I just know how these things work," Darren replied.

Then, he leaned back. "Your owner just died. The dealership is in limbo. You don't want to hold onto a $1.5M car while the business is unstable."

Lana exhaled sharply.

Darren gave her a calculative gaze. "Why don't we drop the price by $200k?"

"Mr Steele. The price cannot be reduced by that much."

In the end, the price dropped by $200K.

---

As the negotiations were nearing an end, Darren glanced at the vehicle outside the window and said, "I'll need a mechanic to inspect it before we go any further."

She hesitated, clearly not expecting this level of diligence from someone his age. "You really don't trust our quality? We only deal in the best."

Darren's gaze was cold, unreadable. "I trust. I verify."

With a tight-lipped smile, she waved a hand. "Fine, I'll get someone from the service department."

A few minutes later, a grizzled mechanic in oil-streaked coveralls approached, wiping his hands on a rag. His name tag read Gus.

"You the one buying the One-77?" Gus asked, sizing Darren up.

"That depends on what you find," Darren replied.

Gus let out a low whistle. "Alright, let's get to work."

For the next half-hour, Darren stood by as Gus ran a full diagnostic. He checked the engine, the suspension, the tires, the brakes, and even the electrical systems.

He listened to the purr of the V12, checked for any irregularities in the transmission, and even hooked up a scanner to check for hidden fault codes.

Finally, Gus stood up and wiped his hands. "This machine's a beast. Whoever owned it before took damn good care of it. Barely even used it. No leaks, no hidden damage. It's just as good as new."

Darren gave a small nod. "That's all I needed to hear."

The salesperson folded her arms, watching him with more interest by the second. "You're really thorough, huh?"

Not replying, Darren slipped his free hand into his pocket.

The paperwork for the contract signing was a thick stack of agreements, covering everything from ownership transfer, dealership warranties, financing terms (which he rejected), and insurance options.

Darren went through every page, making sure the system analyzed and approved of every.

The salesperson watched, raising a brow. "You actually read the contracts?"

Darren gave her a sidelong glance. "Only fools sign blind."

She let out a short laugh. "I might have underestimated you, Mr. Steele."

Once he was satisfied, he picked up the briefcase and handed it over. It was then given to a cashier who after counting it affirmed the amount of $1.3 million.

Lana stared at Darren. This guy came here with the total certainty that he was going to cut down the price to exactly $1.3 million. That's an unbelievable amount of self confidence.

Darren signed the contract once again using his mother's name. He took the keys and as he stood to leave, Lana slid a small piece of paper into his hand.

"In case you need anything else, Mr. Steele."

Darren didn't glance at it but he knew it was a phone number.

He simply tucked it into his pocket, walked out and got aboard on his brand new Aston Martin One-77