Morrin eventually closed the gap, his bumper grazing dangerously close to Bryokun's fender. For a heartbeat, it looked like he might force a mistake, until Bryokun swerved at the perfect instant, sliding out clean. The Corolla clipped a rusted drum instead; metal crashed, sparks flew, and a side mirror snapped off. The car rattled violently before Morrin wrestled it back under control.
The final stretch loomed ahead... one long strip of blacktop, two flaming barrels marking the finish line. Morrin floored it, his engine screaming as if it might tear itself apart, the distance between them shrinking to a single car length.
For one suspended moment, the crowd held its breath.
Then Bryokun shifted gears, smooth as silk, his Silvia surging forward with effortless power. He cut through the air and crossed the barrels first, sealing victory in a storm of cheers and jeers.
