The night was thick with tension. The underground track in the heart of the docks was lit by neon strips and the faint glow of oil-drum fires. Crowds pressed against the barricades, the roar of modified engines drowning out the thumping bass from portable speakers.
Rico sat behind the wheel of the Shadow Serpent, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. His eyes locked on the black McLaren P1 GTR ahead — Phantom's car. The man had been a ghost in the racing scene, always winning, always untouchable… until tonight.
"Remember," Aisha's voice crackled in his earpiece, "Phantom plays dirty. He'll try to put you into the wall before you reach the second checkpoint."
"I know," Rico muttered. "That's why I'm not giving him the chance."
The signal flare burst into the air — FWOOSH! — and every car launched forward like bullets. Tires screamed, flames spat from exhausts, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.
The first corner was chaos — sparks flew as metal kissed metal. Phantom swerved sharply, almost clipping Rico's front bumper.
Not tonight, bastard.
Rico downshifted, the turbo screaming as he slid through the turn, brushing the barrier but keeping his line tight. The crowd's roar grew louder. Somewhere in the chaos, a black SUV with tinted windows kept pace in the shadows — not a racer. That's not good.
Halfway through the course, Rico spotted it — an oil slick glistening under the dim streetlights. Phantom swerved last second, knowing Rico wouldn't have time to react.
But Rico did. He yanked the handbrake, spinning the Shadow Serpent in a perfect drift, flames licking the asphalt as he shot past the hazard.
"Holy hell…" Aisha whispered in awe. "You just made that look easy."
"Not done yet," Rico growled.
Then came the trap — the SUV roared forward, blocking the road ahead. Phantom was already smiling, thinking the race was his. Rico's heartbeat spiked. There was no space to brake. No space to turn.
So he didn't.
He dropped two gears, floored the accelerator, and aimed straight for the narrowest gap between the SUV and the barrier. The Shadow Serpent screamed past, scraping paint but making it through by inches.
The finish line was just ahead. Phantom tried one last desperate sideswipe — but Rico anticipated it, counter-steering and sending Phantom spinning out into the barricades. The crowd exploded in cheers as Rico crossed first, engine howling like a victory cry.
He had won… but the SUV didn't stop. Its windows rolled down, and from the shadows inside, a man in a black mask pointed two fingers at Rico like a gun.
"This isn't over," the voice was low, cold, and dripping with threat.
For the first time in a long while, Rico felt a chill that had nothing to do with speed.