When people’s emotions are pushed to extres, such as when facing fear or death, the sympathetic nervous system often becos collectively activated.
At the sa ti, the release of norepinephrine and adrenaline in the body causes a massive activity of the internal organs, providing fuel for the brain.
This body-wide response resulting from the activity of the sympathetic nervous system is known as the "Fight-or-Flight Response."
It refers to a stress response that prepares the body for defense, struggle, or flight driven by the nerves and glands.
In this state, the secretion of adrenaline and brain stress hormones accelerates.
The heartbeat quickens, blood vessels constrict, accelerating blood circulation, and increasing the supply of oxygen throughout the body.
Unnecessary organs in the body receive less blood supply, while the brain and major muscles of the body receive increased blood supply.
At the sa ti, the body actively reduces auditory function, pupils constrict, and the field of vision narrows to increase focus!
For this reason, when the "Fight-or-Flight Response" occurs, the speed of brain information transmission to the body and muscle strength can be one to two tis the usual, enabling a greater chance of survival when choosing to flee or fight back after danger appears!
In so rumors, during car accidents, falls, and other situations, people on the brink of death may feel as though ti has suddenly slowed down.
This is the intuitive feeling caused by the activation of the sympathetic nervous system, which speeds up the brain’s information processing capability and the body’s response rate.
Studies have shown that the brain collects information from a person’s senses and uses them to form a biological clock, and the more information processed, the slower the biological clock ticks.
So in fact, it’s not that ti "slows down," but rather our brain’s running speed "speeds up."
So people humorously call this human ability to instantaneously enhance brain and muscle capacities... "Genetic Lock"!
...
It is generally believed that the control center for this stress response is located in the lower part of the thalamus, which is also known as the "hypothalamus."
The hypothalamus also controls many kinds of emotional stress responses, therefore, it is sotis considered as the stress managent center.
At this mont, ng Lang’s hypothalamus was in a highly active state, secreting stress hormones that swept through his entire brain like a storm.
Consequently, the concentration of "SB protein" in the nervous system also surged dramatically!
In a sense, his "Spiritual Resonance" this ti triggered the miraculous "muscle mory."
Thus, he fortuitously enjoyed the unique experience that would typically require the neural stimulant "ngpo Soup."
However, the shackles that the Creator placed on humanity may not be without intention to protect...
...
"Beep! Beep beep!"
As the car horn signaling the end of the race sounded, a sweaty Xu Jingfeng was still imrsed in the intense confrontation, instinctively making two more escape maneuvers.
Only when he realized that the roaring motor that followed him like a shadow seed to have disappeared did he gradually co to his senses and slowly stopped the car.
Confused, he looked around and then noticed that the red Porsche that had terrified him had already slowly returned to the start of the race...
He opened the car door sowhat dazed, and stepped out of the car.
The next mont, seeing the nurous white marks scattered over the car body, he fell into a state of speechlessness.
Who am I? Where am I? What did I just experience?
...
On the other side, the crowd, witnessing the red Porsche slowly approaching and becoming sowhat dusty, was filled with shock and admiration.
"Masked Driver!"
"Masked Driver! Masked Driver..."
No one knew who started it, but the crowd went from silence to slowly raising their arms and chanting.
In the end, only the fervent shouting for the "Masked Driver" remained, as everyone was subdued by the thrilling race.
Even among Hong Shijie’s group, so looked at the car with reverent eyes.
"Masked Driver! Masked Driver! Masked Driver..."
Amidst the cheers, ng Lang rolled down the car window.
Ignoring the crowd whose cheers had risen by several decibels, he huskily said to an excited Yan Weiwei, whose face was flushed.
"Get in the car!"
"Huh?"
...
"Buzz~"
Watching the red Porsche gradually disappear into the night, Big Wave opened his mouth in disbelief.
"He... he just left? At least he could have stayed to pop a champagne bottle to celebrate! He hasn’t even paid yet!"
Hu Yifei couldn’t help but exclaim,
"Once the deed is done, he departs without a trace, keeping his skills and fa hidden! That’s the style of a true expert... This is what a real master looks like!
Given his level, do you think he really cares about such a small amount of money?"
The earring man, who had just been full of doubts about the "masked racer," now looked up to him in admiration.
"From today on, I am the ’masked racer’s’... no, wait! The ’masked racing god’s’ brain-dead fan!"
...
"Tsk!"
ng Lang’s newfound fans had no idea.
The red Porsche hadn’t gone far before it suddenly braked sharply and stopped at a deserted roadside.
"Uh... why are we stopping here?"
"Huff~ huff~" ng Lang didn’t answer; in the quiet space, Weiwei could clearly hear his sowhat heavy breathing.
"Hey! Why aren’t you talking?"
Weiwei had gradually cald down from the feverish atmosphere that had sowhat intoxicated her monts ago and quickly noticed sothing wrong with ng Lang.
Without saying a word, he had brought her here, a secluded spot without even a streetlight.
The surroundings could only be described as eerily quiet...
"What... what are you trying to do?" she gradually beca anxious, her heart beginning to thump.
Alone with a man in this desolate wilderness, the tight space overwheld her...
All sorts of scenes from TV dramas unhelpfully flooded her mind.
This guy, he wouldn’t think that after winning the race, he would want...
Yan Weiwei’s face turned slightly red, her mind a bit blank.
If he, too excited, suddenly lunges at , should I kick him to the windshield, or...
Once her romantic mind kicked in, Weiwei couldn’t help but think wildly.
ng Lang gripped the steering wheel tightly as if struggling to restrain sothing.
"Huff~ huff~" His breathing grew even heavier; he turned his head with a strange expression as if he wanted to say sothing.
But just as he turned his head, Weiwei was startled by his bloodshot eyes.
"Hey hey! I’m telling you, you... you better not ss around! I... I haven’t..."
"Hmm!" Just then, ng Lang suddenly made a strange moan from his throat, and under Weiwei’s astonished gaze, he abruptly pulled off the red scarf from his face.
Then he frantically opened the car door.
"Oh~"
Yan Weiwei: "..."
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