Page 316 of Fatality

I always make it to the final stages—Most gang leaders do.

Winning the Seasonal Race means far more than Ghost Credits. The victors earn elite vehicle upgrades, a massive jump in reputation and ranking, and a place in the higher-tier circuits—The Yearly Race.

I've only won it twice. Ryker, the leader of Ghost Void, has won it four times. The other gang leaders only once.

That's one of the reasons why Crimson Velocity is respected and number two. And that's exactly why Ghost Void sits at number one.

My troublemaker will be there tonight. So I need to fucking win that seasonal race.

I need everyone watching to understand exactly who she belongs to.

For hours, everyone's moving. No one dares sit their ass down.

But when I turn to reach for the torque wrench, my eyes scan the garage and lands on one idiot asleep on the hood of his car.

I straighten myself, stalk over and punch him.

“You're out of the race,” I state before turning my back on him and heading back to my Charger.

The man grunts in pain but doesn't argue. He just climbs off the hood and goes back to working on his car.

Four hours before the race, Neo's voice booms through the garage.

“Everyone get your asses over to the boss's car!” he barks.

I stay where I am, leaning against the hood of my Charger, my arms crossed over my bare chest.

I look at Ren, he gives me a sharp nod.

Behind me, a digital map flickers to life, projected by one of his devices.

“So,” I begin, letting my gaze sweep over every face in the garage. “In four hours, some of you are racing your first Seasonal. The rest of you already know the drill.” I pause. “Some of you will probably die tonight.”

Silence settles over the garage.

“Speed.” I raise one finger. “Stupidity.” A second. “Or someone else.” A third.

“If any of you want to back out... now's the fucking time.” I wait patiently.

It's one of the rare moments in my life where I actually am.

Some take a step back, mostly new recruits, I nod slowly.

“The rest of you, listen the fuck up, I won’t repeat myself.” I point a finger behind me to the map “We got it two days ago, Neo sent it to you to study it, I hope you did. Or you’re already dead.”

Neo grins and Varek nods.

“The first stage is ours—the Industrial Belt. This is Crimson territory, so don't expect an easy ride just because we know these streets. The route starts on the freight highways, where you'll have room to open the throttle. Use it, but don't get greedy. After that, it throws you into the warehouses. Tight corridors, blind corners, steel pillars, containers stacked so high you'll never see what's waiting on the other side. One mistake in there, and you're scraping metal instead of chasing first place.”

No one speaks so Neo takes it from here.

“The track opens into the factory sector. Steam vents, maintenance bridges overhead, machinery everywhere. Visibility drops fast, and the road twists when you least expect it. Stay fucking sharp. Once you're through, you'll hit the refinery straight—the longest stretch on the map. That's where everyone's going to burn their boost trying to prove something. Let them. Save yours for the final section.”

I nod, approving.

“The finish runs through the loading yards. It's rough, uneven, littered with abandoned cargo and concrete barriers. You'll be fighting for every meter while everyone else is desperate to survive the cut. This stage isn't about being the fastest. It's about getting to the line with your car still in one piece. Half the racers won't. Make sure not to be part of it.”

Everyone nods, their gaze hardening.