The night air was heavy with gasoline fumes and the electric buzz of anticipation. Every engine rev in the underground dockside lot was a war cry, daring the others to make the first move.Kai tightened his gloves, his mind replaying what had happened in the previous race—every sharp corner, every threat from the Syndicate, every promise he'd made to himself.
Tonight wasn't just another race.It was a message.
Across the lot, a sleek matte-black McLaren 765LT idled menacingly, its driver hidden behind a tinted visor. But Kai knew who it was—Lucien, the Syndicate's golden boy, the man who had tried to run him off the road two nights ago.
"You sure about this?" Lexa's voice cut through the tension. She leaned against Kai's Skyline, arms crossed, her eyes scanning for any sign of a trap. "You're not just racing him… you're walking into his playground."
"I don't care whose playground it is," Kai said, his tone low and steady. "Tonight, I burn it down."
Lucien stepped forward, his boots echoing on the concrete. "Winner takes more than just cash, Kai. You win—you walk away with the Syndicate's blessing. You lose… you hand me your Skyline keys and disappear from my city."
Kai's lips curved into a dangerous half-smile. "Then I guess I better not lose."
The crowd roared as the two cars rolled to the starting line. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, restless shadows. The flag girl raised her arm, the fabric trembling in the wind.
Lexa leaned into Kai's window one last time. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "This isn't just about speed, Kai. It's about survival."
The flag dropped.
The world blurred. Tires screamed. Engines howled like beasts unleashed from chains.
Lucien's McLaren shot forward, its acceleration brutal, but Kai stayed on his tail, reading every movement like an open book. They ripped down the first stretch, weaving between abandoned freight containers, their headlights slicing through the dark.
Lucien tried to cut Kai off at the first corner—but Kai anticipated it, sliding into a perfect drift, his rear bumper grazing the guardrail in a shower of sparks.
Halfway through the route, Lucien played dirty—dumping a flash of nitrous early, forcing Kai into the edge of the dock. One wrong move, and the Skyline would plunge into black water. But Kai wasn't here to die.
He hit his own nitrous, the force pinning him into his seat, the Skyline roaring like an untamed animal. The world turned into streaks of neon and fire. He surged forward, inches from Lucien's tail, waiting for the perfect moment.
The last turn was a hairpin—deadly at high speed. Lucien dove in first, confident he'd block Kai's path. But Kai clipped the inside curb, taking a line no sane driver would risk. For a heartbeat, the Skyline lifted on two wheels—then slammed back down, rocketing past Lucien in a blur of smoke.
The finish line flashed. Kai crossed first.
The crowd exploded. Lucien's McLaren skidded to a stop behind him, the driver's visor still hiding his face—but Kai could feel the fury radiating from him.
Lexa ran up, breathless. "You did it."
Kai looked past her, eyes locking on Lucien. "This isn't over," Lucien said flatly. "The Syndicate doesn't forgive."
Kai smiled coldly. "Good. I'm not asking for forgiveness."
But as the cheers echoed around him, a shadow moved at the edge of the crowd—watching. Waiting. And Kai knew… the real game had just begun.