Chapter 8: First Line

Minato, 00:03 AM.

Route 12, under Ōhashi Bridge. Headlights were off only portable floodlights cast cones of light on the cars. People stood in a circle, their shouts held back by tension a black drone, blinking, hovered above the vehicles, its camera active. It streamed live to a private, encrypted server, powered by eastern gangs and Shinjuku yakuza every illegal race was seen, bet on, analyzed, and most importantly, sponsored money circulated silently; the stakes were wild but Naomi Noctielle wasn't there for the money, nor for the glory she was there to feel the asphalt scream beneath her tires "LET'S GO! TAKE YOUR POSITIONS!" The voice echoed from portable speakers an elegant girl, with red hair, a short dress, and a stopwatch in hand, stood in the center. Everyone watched her she raised one hand, then the other. "THREE DRIVERS. FIRST RACE. TIME TRIAL OVER 2KM. ONE TIGHT TURN, TWO STRAIGHTS. NO CHEATING!" Naomi, Kota, and a third driver in a black Nissan 350Z lined up side by side. Naomi inhaled. her hands trembled a little first real race. No magic, no lightning just her she pressed the clutch the engine purred low, steady, calm. the timer displayed 00:00.00. "READY!" the girl raised her hand the drone approached "GO!" Flash! The signal was given Naomi released the clutch the Pinkbolt MKII leaped forward, not like a beast, but like a sharp blade. Kota started with a controlled drift the third driver sought raw acceleration. Naomi glided, fluid, surgical. But Naomi hugged the right, minimized the angle, keeping the engine at 5100 RPM, exactly as she had calculated first turn. Kota took it wide the 350Z braked too late. Naomi, she braked before the turn, pulled the handbrake slightly, corrected with the wheel perfect drift she exited the turn ahead of the other two. The crowd roared. The drone zoomed in. "HOLY SHIT SHE TOOK THE INSIDE PERFECTLY!", "WHO IS SHE?!", "THAT'S NO AMATEUR!"Naomi heard nothing she was in the car she was the cartwo straight lines the engine held. The turbo didn't overheat the tires gripped she controlled every vibration, every brake she anticip desated reactions she danced with gravity last turn. Kota attempted an inside pass, too late. Naomi was already there she drifted again, less showy but clean straight line she floored the accelerator headlights glittered the finish line was crossed first place the crowd exploded, not with shouts, but with murmurs. "She won.", "That wasn't an attack, that was dissection.", "She's not a normal girl, I swear." Naomi cut the engine, breathed heavily she removed her right glove for just a moment. her fingers still trembled, but she smiled for the first time in a long time, she wasn't a goddess, not a forger she was a driver.

End of Chapter 8 — First Line