I hovered above the surrounded junction like a ghostly onlooker, both of my eyes fixed on the two cars. There, hunkered motionlessly like some dark and malevolent tank, was Akira's black monster. And parked next to it, the engine radiating warmth, was Yuna's cherry-red one. Floodlights dropped like spears from helicopters, bathing the runway in brilliant white. Police cars encircled the junction like a steel vice, their trunk lids flung wide and rifles raised high.
The tension in the air was palpable to the point of choking. It only needed a single miscalculation, and gun fire would erupt.
And then Akira spoke, his voice calm, cold, slicing through the opened window like a sword drawing from its scabbard.
"Yuna. Follow my lead. Exactly."
"The end," he declared aloud.
He didn't shout.
Yuna's eyes flicked to him behind the glass. She gave the tiniest nod, her fingers squeezing the wheel.
Akira leaned forward a bit, gloved hands still resting on the steering wheel, whispering something into a communication earpiece concealed somewhere in his clothing.
"Lucifer. Are you listening?"
I grinned, invisible but everywhere.
"Always, darling."
"Tell me the position of all the helicopters and all the barricade vehicles. To the meter." he muttered.
I shut my eyes for half a beat. The city's rhythm coursed into me: metal, heat, hearts, and talk.
"Three choppers: direct overhead at 120 metres, two flanking, east and west at 90 metres. Barricade vehicles: twelve in the ring, heaviest concentration north-east sector – four armoured vans. Weakest point: south-west, three patrol cars with two officers."
His mouth curled beneath the mask—just a fleeting moment.
"Good."
He reached back under the dashboard and flicked a concealed switch. A faint click reverberated through the cabin.
And then he spoke—and it was loud enough to be heard by the police.
"Gentlemen. You have exactly thirty seconds to open a corridor south-west. Or I will open it myself."
A ripple of laughter ran through the police officers. Then a captain came forward, megaphone in hand.
"You're surrounded, kid. No way out."
Akira tilted his head. "That's what they said last time."
He mashed the throttle.
"The black car lunged forward like a shark, heading straight for the north-east barricade—the strongest point."
In an instant, all the police vehicles present in the ring promptly accelerated towards the interception.
Exactly what he wanted.
Just in the nick of time, Akira jerked the wheel hard left and then hard right—exquisitely executed hand brake drift. The black supercar spun a complete 180 degrees, the rear of the car brushing the front end of the first armored van leading the pack. Sparks rained. Steel screeched. The van jerked hard sideways, immobilizing three other cars behind it.
Chaos.
But in the same breath, Yuna floored her red beast.
She did not follow Akira's lead. She did the complete opposite. she headed directly towards the south-west opening he had formed himself by engaging the entire north-east army.
The three police cars that were there attempted to fill the gap.
"Too late,"
Yuna's car screamed through the opening at full speed, drifting sideways as it made it through the narrow opening. One of the police officers had to dive out of the way as she drifted by with inches to spare. Yuna straightened up the wheels as she turned onto the side street and disappeared into the night.
Akira remained ringed by his attackers and laughed—a low and chilling sound that made some of the nearby cops cringe.
He jerked the wheel hard into reverse, tires screeching and black smoke pouring out. The black monster tore backward through the ring, breaking the formation. He tapped two more cars and spun again, blasting through the hole Yuna had made.
The police scrambled to chase.
But the formation was broken. Orders conflicted on the radios. helicopters lurched spasmodically in an effort to keep both cars in view.
Akira and Yuna were now racing along parallel roads with Akira navigating through the narrow alleys and high roads of Minato Ward.
I oscillated between them.
Akira was economical - using all the shortcuts I told him in his ear. He sliced through a construction area, leaping over an incomplete ramp, landing with anewline boneshaker-cracking splat on the asphalt pavement. Cars pursued him, slamming into the scaffolds and knocking them down behind him.
Yuna was all instinct. She dodged between delivery vans, drifting around corners so tightly that the car's side mirror folded in. But as soon as the spotlight beam from the helicopter fixed on her, she slammed on the brakes, turned off the headlights, and swerved into an underground car park. The helicopter lost her in an instant.
Going back to the major road, Akira suddenly braked, allowing a bunch of followers to overshoot him. He promptly made a turn into a service tunnel and hid beneath the city.
The police were now chasing ghosts.
I could sense Kazuki's panic rising from the penthouse. His guards were doubling up, boarding the windows, and he was shaking as he talked to me on the telephone.
"He's coming… he's actually coming…"
Akira's voice came through the comms once more, steady as always."
"Lucifer. Time?"
"Fourteen minutes until the next teleport cooldown ends," I replied.
Akira's masked eyes narrowed.
"Then we keep them busy for thirteen more minutes."
He accelerated again, and the black car screeched toward the core of Minato Ward.
Nor toward Kazuki's tower.
Not yet.
He was leading the entire presidential team in a dance—one wrong move, and they would all come crashing down. And the devil inside me was practically counting the minutes until they found out which one was first to fall.