Los Angeles pulsed with late summer heat, the kind that clung to your skin and made the pavement shimmer like a mirage. Leonardo adjusted his grip on the wheel as his Audi S4 glided through the downtown streets. The car had been detuned—visibly and audibly toned down. He didn't want to stand out. Not yet.
He had a new identity now. Leo. No surname. No legacy. Just a guy with a fast car and quiet eyes.
The streets were restless. Tensions in the racing community buzzed louder each night. Rumors of increasing police raids, undercover agents, and even whispers of federal involvement had the scene on edge. Leonardo, with his insight buff from the system still subtly active, could almost taste the narrative unfolding.
Brian O'Conner had started making moves. Getting closer to Mia. Trying too hard. Leonardo had watched enough to know the signs. Brian wasn't just another racer. He was trying to blend. And failing.
Leonardo wasn't sure if Brian was the problem, or if he was just a symptom of what was coming.
"You race much?"
The voice came from Jesse, leaning over the hood of his Jetta. They were parked in an alleyway near an old warehouse where some of the local racers met when they didn't want to attract the crowd.
"Now and then," Leonardo replied, keeping his voice casual.
Jesse squinted at the Audi. "She's clean. Looks heavy, though."
Leonardo smiled faintly. "She moves when she needs to."
"Bet she does. You tuned her yourself?"
He nodded. "Piece by piece."
Jesse whistled. "Respect. Not many people touch the guts of a Quattro and make it sing."
Leonardo didn't respond. He didn't need to. Jesse's attention soon wandered to his ECU display, and Leonardo used the moment to scan the street. A black Honda Civic rolled by slowly—dark tint, green underglow. One of Dom's boys. No doubt keeping an eye on the scene.
Leonardo's phone buzzed softly.
[System Notification: Canon Divergence Detected — Minor Threat Adjustment Logged]
That was new. A warning.
He tapped the system interface, invisible to the world but ever-present to him. The message opened into a secondary window, showing a branching decision point.
[Brian O'Conner suspected by Vince - timeline divergence at 15% probability. Expected confrontation within 72 hours.]
Leonardo sighed. Vince was always the firestarter. Brian was walking a tightrope, and the wire was fraying.
He debated stepping in. A word here. A caution there.
But no. Not yet.
Two days later, Leonardo was leaning against a railing near Toretto's Market and Cafe when the storm broke.
Vince and Brian.
Voices raised. Accusations thrown.
"You think we don't see it?" Vince shouted. "Always asking questions, always sniffing around! You ain't one of us, man."
Brian's jaw tightened. "I'm just here to race."
"Bullshit!"
Dom stepped in fast, pulling Vince back with a hard arm. "Enough! That's enough."
Leonardo remained silent, watching.
Dom turned to Brian; eyes narrowed. "You got something to say, say it. Otherwise walk away."
Brian clenched his fists but said nothing. He left without another word.
Letty noticed Leonardo. "You enjoy standing in the shadows, don't you?"
He shrugged. "The view's clearer."
She smirked, then walked off after Dom.
That night, Leonardo sat alone in his temporary apartment—modest, sparse, and located above a tire shop. He didn't need luxury. He needed proximity.
He reviewed his interface again.
[Daily Reward: Skill Crystal — Precision Engineering Lv.1 Acquired]
It glowed faintly before vanishing. A rush of clarity surged through him. The concept of tolerances, micro-vibrations, and precision machining unfolded in his mind like a map.
He opened his notebook and sketched a new concept: an adjustable camshaft timing unit that could be manually dialed for drift setups. Simple. Effective. Timeline-appropriate.
He'd build it in the morning.
Back on the streets, Leonardo continued his quiet routine—observe, race sparingly, never win too big, never talk too much. The crew began accepting him more. Even Vince, begrudgingly, left him alone.
Dom remained a mystery.
Leonardo respected that.
He didn't want to steal the spotlight. He didn't need to.
All he wanted was to keep these people from crashing when the brakes failed—and the road ran out.