Burning Rubber (Pre-Cyberpunk Edgerunners/2077) (OC-Insert)

[Darkstep]

So the muse struck. With so many good cyberpunk fics out I decided to try my hand at one with a concept not many quite focus on (hint hint, its cars). Now I'm not too much of a car guy myself so recommendations are welcome for modding cars (and obviously tips on making my writing better).

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Tap tap

Come on, a little more to the right annnnd…

Click

There we go. Now to find the wires. Jiggling the hook around a bit, I feel around the motors and circuit boards in the door, mapping my way around the-

"Choom! What's taking so long!? We're gonna get caught!" Marvin whispers beside me, sweating as he peeks over the hood of the car.

"Marv, for the last time shut up! It's my first time doing this shit and I can't focus with your gonk-ass questions!" I send a quick kick to his shin to hammer in how annoying he's being.

I ignore his grumbling as I focus on the hook shoved deep into the door frame. Ah crap, where was I? Shifting the metal around a bit, I feel it catch on something, a quick tug letting me know there's some give.

Taking a quick glance around, I see there's no one else except us down in this dump of a parking lot, well us and a few rusty cars. Marv's right, we've been here a while so we should head out before anyone, or the guard, decides to take a quick jaunt down so…

With a quick yank, I let the sharpened edge cut through the wires-

"Oof!" I stumble back from the force hitting my torso, straight into Marvin who turns just in time to take my weight head on, squawking in surprise as we tumble to the ground.

Staring at the concrete ceiling, I take a second to catch my breath, bringing a hand around to rub my stinging gut before my cushion decides to unceremoniously turn and toss me to the dusty ground.

"Asshole."

I grin at his groan of pain as I push myself off the ground. Patting some dust off my jacket, I take a look at the open car door.

"Huh, guess I was wrong, was poking around the door's motor," moving around it, I drop myself onto the ripped-up driver's seat and cough a lung out from the dust cloud exploding in response.

Waving a hand around I wheeze as I try to breathe some clean air, well, clean as you can get around here at least.

"C'mon Drake, you can die later once we're outta here so open up!" Marvin in the meantime decided to go around to the other side.

Unlocking the car and holding my breath when he decides not to learn from my mistake, I reach under the steering wheel and feel around the seam of the plastic covering for a gap.

"Aha!" Yanking down reveals the inner wiring of the car.

Digging around I easily find the wireless receiver just like the manual on the net said it would be. Now to cut that one off, grab those other two, strip their covering and one, two, three-

Chi chi chi vroom

"Yeah! I told you Marv I cou-" I shut up when the engine lets out a loud bang and its rumbling quiets down to a whisper.

"Hey! Who in the fuck is down there!"

"Oh shit."

"I told you! I fucking told you!"

My heart picks up speed in my chest as the shout echoes through the parking lot, and I don't waste a second.

"Hang on, Marv!" I yell as the doors click shut and I grab the wheel tightly.

With a deep breath, I stomp on the gas pedal and we launch. I barely hear the tires squeal in pain as a cloud of smoke trails the speeding car while pressed against my seat.

The speed! I've never gone as fast as I am now! Letting out a whoop of joy as we rocket past cars and trash, I don't bother looking at Marvin, knowing from his scream of terror that he's right at home.

We speed through the dimly lit garage, concrete pillars flashing past in a blur and I soon spot the exit ramp ahead, I veer sharply to the left and the tires do their best to keep up but I feel a jolt as we clip a car from the sharp turn, sending sparks into the air.

"Look out!" Marvin shouted, pointing at the ramp ahead.

I curse under my breath as the wide eye security guard freezes in the middle of the ramp, but we don't have time to stop.

The guard barely has time to react as he dives to the side with a yelp, the car just barely avoiding clipping his foot as they whip past him.

"Jesus, Drake!" Marvin yells, his voice a mix of adrenaline and fear, mainly the latter.

Ignoring him, I focus on the road ahead and tense my muscles as I jerk the wheel to the side and burst out of the parking garage and onto the street, catching some air before landing with a thump, the suspension just barely holding as we shake up and down in our seats. Swerving to avoid a car, I spin the wheel around, bringing the car under control just in time to merge with traffic.

Heart still racing, I glance at my pale passenger, "We made it," I can feel the grin on my face as the adrenaline pumps through my veins. "Told you we could do it."

Marvin just shakes his head at me as he takes in a few deep breaths.

"Ne-never again. I'm never driving with you again," he says, slowly releasing the death grip he had on my poor dashboard.

"C'mon choom! It was my first time driving, you can't blame me for trying to test it out!" I say indignantly.

"I c-can and I will. It didn't look like you were driving for the first time back there!"

Well can't say he's wrong about that; I didn't expect myself to be able to do that either even with that one driving BD I played a couple years ago. We sit in silence for a minute as I weave between traffic, getting half a dozen honks in turn but doing nothing no one else isn't, hell there's even a guy just going between cars and scraping tons of paint.

Bang bang

Okaaay, not anymore. Seems someone didn't appreciate the scratches left on their car. I steer clear of the shot-up car slowly veering towards the thick railing surrounding the street.

"Ok ok. We got out. Just, pull over to some parking lot, I need to get out of this thing and off the street, and we need to clean this up a bit before we can go get our payout."

I nod as I spy a SynthSmoke Pit™ to the side and cut across the lanes, forcing cars to swerve out of the way as I take us to the lot towards the back.

Getting out once we're out of the way, I let out a chuckle when Marvin gracefully stumbles out the car, and by gracefully, I mean just falling to the ground. Ignoring the gonk, I go to the back and after jiggling the handle, the trunks opens and step back when bags of trash fall out from it.

Digging in a bit with my foot, I see that it really is just trash and leave it on the ground before huffing a bit and moving in to throw out the rest.

It takes a few minutes to go through the whole car, even with Marvin's help when he decides to get off the ground.

"How the hell did they fit this much trash inside, must be at least half a ton," I hear Marvin murmur as I pass the last box to throw.

Shuffling out the car, I stretch my back with a groan as I look back at the car, looking a bit better with no more trash filling the windows in the back.

"Say, how much did you say Pietro was offering for this again?" I ask when Marvin comes to my side, dusting some grime off his hands.

"700 eddies," he says with a grimace.

"That's not a lot y'know, especially for a car," I point out the obvious.

"Yeah yeah, but it's a C125 made when it was first released, not a lot of features compared to newer ones or security, you never broke into a car before, and you got in with a piece of scrap in like five minutes."

Sighing as I sit down on the hood and ignoring how much the car sags in response, I think. 700 split two ways is not even enough for rent, much less utilities and other bills, though I guess its still about how much we make in a month.

Slipping my agent out I navigate to my bank account and after waiting a minute for an ad for Mr. Studd™ to pass I wince at my low triple digit balance.

Wait, didn't Ashely mention at work a few weeks ago about a race her input took her to?

Going to my contacts, I scroll down to her name and call her. I hold up a hand to Marvin as he sends me a questioning look and it takes only a few rings before she picks up.

"Drake? You don't usually call. Don't tell me you missed me so much that you couldn't wait another day to talk to me again," she says with a teasing tilt which I roll my eyes at.

"Yeah yeah, anything else you wanna say so you can get your input to come and flatline me?" I respond flatly

"Hmm, nope! I'd rather not get stuck with the slob for nine hours on my own thank you very much. And Leon likes you enough that he wouldn't flatline you, at worst he'll just break your legs!" She ends in a chipper tone.

"That's true!" I hear a noticeably deep voice get past her agent's voice filter.

"Hey Leon, didn't catch you two at a bad time did I Ashely?"

"You're good, we're just out to eat. So what's up?" She questions.

"You said a few weeks ago about a race you were gonna go to, mind sending me the detes?"

"Oh you wanna go watch? Well I don't know myself when it's happening. Leon the rac-" her agent cuts her off as she presumably talks to Leon.

Looking to the side, I flip the bird at Marvin when I notice the odd look he's giving me before Ashely starts talking again.

"So Leon says there's a race happening tonight, I'll flick you the detes in a second but its over at East Austin."

"That's pretty deep into the city for a race ain't it?"

"You really think Rangers give a shit what happens on the road?" She responds with some amusement.

I chuckle a little as well, "True that, alright thanks for the info, c'ya tomorrow."

She laughs lightly and responds the same before dropping the call.

Turning to Marvin, I see him watching me curiously, and with an unneeded hint of dread, as I put my agent away.

"Please don't tell me what I know your about to say."

I shut my mouth and shrug as I get off the hood and go back in the car, "Fine then, I won't tell you."

He scrambles around to the passenger seat as I start the car, "Wait, I didn't mean it literally!"

---

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(P.S. non-existent schedule)

 

[Darkstep]

"I'd like to point out that this is a bad idea."

Pulling up behind an Archer Quartz fully wrapped in chrome and a shiny wax job to the point I'm having quite of trouble seeing through the glare, I can see his point. The armed Riffer gangers guarding the area and cars pretty much hammers it in.

"Your opinion is heard, considered, and promptly discarded," doesn't mean I have to give him ammunition to push his point.

"Drake we can still back up outta here and head to Pietro's, he's already offering a guaranteed payday so why are you trying to get us killed here!" He argues as the Archer pulls away from the group of gangers and down the road to the rest of the racers.

I press on the gas, "Cause I can feel like I can make it here Marv, trust me on this. If I do good here, we can get more eddies in a night than we do in a month working."

Marvin doesn't get a chance to respond as one of the guards covered in the Riffers signature neon tattoos, and what looks like a chrome jaw, leans down to their open window, "Well lookie what we have here, a couple rats trying their luck in a coffin," he laughs at my face.

It takes a lot to not have my face contort in disgust at the whiff of his breath I catch. He doesn't seem bothered by my silence as he glances around the interior and huffing out a chuckle at the yellowed windows and stained seats.

"Alright brats, hundred eddies to get in," Marvin lets out a strained whine at that but we both ignore him, "only top three get eddies, rest of you chucklefucks get jack."

Nodding I slip him the sole bill I keep on myself, "Rules?"

"Only one person in the car so one of you can fuck off. Also, don't try anything with the Rangers, the show is what makes them not give a shit about us, so you mess with them? We'll have you in chains and on the way to a labor prison before they even ask," he says with hard look, one he keeps until I nod.

"Other than that? Nothing. Though go ahead and bet if you want, we'll love taking your hard-earned eddies."

"You aren't worried about drivers fixing the race?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, one that he responds to with a manic smile, along with a hint of something I don't want to identify.

"Oh ho~ if you decide to fix it, then our boys will have some fun taking the price from your body, in absolutely every way possible~," he says his piece as he steps back.

Looking back ahead I edge my car forwards towards the rest of the racers, passing between the rowdy crowd that start jeering as we drive by.

"Look at these gonks! Their gonna get flatlined in a minute!"

"I'm putting fifty that it breaks down in a minute!"

"Don't be going back crying to mamma!"

I try my best to push the disquiet I fell to the side as we pull into position, though considering our car looks the worst compared to the others with neon lights and wraps, I can see where they're coming from.

Glancing to Marvin I can tell he's unsettled by the attention we're getting, "Alright Marv you can head on out, I'll pick you up once the race is over."

He lets out a sigh of relief but sends me a worried look, "Fine. But remember we don't need this, pull out if it's too much, we'll still get a payday at the end of the day," he waits until I nod in acceptance before he steps out, giving me one last look at me before slipping into the crowd.

Over to the side sitting on… monster truck? A lanky ganger with chromed arms stands up and brings an old school mic around.

"Alright you cowboys, cowgirls and whatever the fuck else you are! The bets are all in and it's time to race!" He blasts out and the crowd responds with gusto.

Looking down the two columns the cars are organized in, it looks like there's an even 14 racing with most of them looking like supped up economy cars. The Archer is probably one of the few that's actually built for a race though, and given I can see it right at the front, I guess that's where the real show is going to happen.

While observing my competition, I see what looks like a joytoy strutting to the middle with a flag in hand.

"Drivers! Start! Your! Engines!"

An orchestra of roaring engines plays out echoing off the apartment buildings surrounding us, my own rattling roar drowned out by the car beside mine.

Looking over, I see the ganger staring right at me with his mono-eye and a sharp grin on his faces, raising a hand and showing off- aww shit that's a Nue.

"3!"

I press a button and lower my windows.

"2!"

Dropping a hand down to the side of my seat, I grab the handle there.

"1!"

He swings his arm out his window.

"GO!" I pre-empt the starting gun and throw myself back -Bang- in my seat, the back following down with me, and slam my foot on the pedal.

Bang bang bang

Lead whizzes by over my body before I pull ahead blindly and push myself back up straight against the force of my car accelerating.

"Oh shit!" I jerk my wheel to the side and just miss the joytoy who keeps waving the flag with a smile on her face even if I just missed her by a hair.

Sweat already dripping down my forehead I grip my steering wheel tightly and take the chance to get my bearings. I jumped two positions ahead with the ganger that tried taking a shot at me lagging behind and apparently trading shots with another car. Ahead I see I'm not too far behind as everyone else decides to deal with their competition on the straight and I know this is my best shot at making some ground cause my car won't be able to keep up with the others once they run out of distractions to shoot at.

I slow down a bit as I pull up behind a trio of cars trading shots, well, before the one stuck in the middle decides to bring out her SMG with a comically extended drum and lay down a veritable storm of bullets onto her opponents.

The one on the left decides to cut his losses, slamming his breaks to dodge the worst of it and letting me speed past but the other decides to take more direct action and slams into the side of the car. I let out a grin as I see the cars swerve around as they fight with muzzle flashes popping off whenever either get a chance. This is the best shot I got.

Letting them slam into each other one more time, I throttle my engine and slowly start creeping past them. Taking a quick glance, I see that it's going to take a while for the two to dislodge given the little Mexican standoff happening in there.

Neither bother their eyes off each other as I clear by them and that's completely fine with me as I see the cars ahead start turning, the road blocked off by some Riffers.

Most of the cars decide to take it easy and slow down for the turn, but others don't bother as they tightly drift around the corner and disappear from sight. But one understeers and they keep going forward as their tires struggle for grip and slam right into a railing, the car nearly tipping onto its side from the force of it as the gangers near it cheer.

I've only seen this done in movies but what the hell. Whispering a little prayer under my breath, I tightly turn the wheel to the side and immediately feel the axles beneath my feet struggle to keep the tires moving and withstand the force I'm putting it under as I start turning sideways. Thankfully the tires barely kept any tread on them over the years so although the forward drive fights against me, I do lose enough traction to push into a true drift.

In some adrenaline filled haze I get a feeling in the back of my head, a little nudge to do something as my front tires start to screech, and I decide to follow my instincts. Quickly turning it the other way, towards the direction I'm skidding, I pull off the pedal a bit and I can tell it was a good choice as the back of my car levels out with the front out of the oversteer I put it in.

At the end of my drift, I floor it easily picking up the small amount of speed that I lost and quickly pass a lagging car that decided to take the corner the boring way.

Bang

I flip the bird behind myself as I'm pretty sure I got a new hole in my trunk, hopefully missing anything important. Up ahead I see a car spin out of control, everyone else quickly dodging the hazard except for one unlucky driver that gets clipped in the back, forcing them to slam the brakes less he spins into a barrier.

That's the ninth one I pass. Wait! How the hell am I fifth already?

I might have spoken too soon as up ahead, I can see the other four ahead of me, way too far for me to catch up and getting even further, merge onto 7th​ street. Well, merge is generous, more like cutting off everyone they see and forcing all of them to screech to a stop right at the intersection.

I flit my eyes around the clogged-up traffic, desperately trying to find an opening to pass through before all the road-raging drivers decide to bring out their guns. No one is giving anyone room to pass, all stuck yelling at each other in Spanish, English, and whatever Texan curses they can dredge up.

"This is gonna be bad," gritting my teeth, I thank the previous owner to not bother paying an airbag subscription, before I turn my wheel at the last second and barely scrape through a small gap between a pair of cars.

The owners shout in surprise as my station wagon forces the gap between them to enlarge, the plastic aluminum frame of our cars giving out but giving me just enough room to get through.

I wince at the whine my engine makes as I try picking up speed, one that thankfully peters out. Up ahead, the drivers are tearing up the street rather than shooting at one another now and are weaving between honking commuters, picking up speed as they focus on the road and I'm not sure that I can make up the gap between us.

I can distantly feel my hear pound but ignore it and focus on my surroundings as I come up behind the first truck speed past it. Flickering my eyes back and forth, I start weaving between traffic, slowly getting into a rhythm and as I pass by more cars, being able to predict where they're going to move and how to react to them.

I keep going for at least half a minute, although not making ground between me and the leading four it's enough for me to at least keep pace with them.

My heart skips a beat as I see flashing blue and red lights up ahead on the side of the road, but rather than slow down, the four take the turn the cops are waiting at back-to-back with the Archer I first saw in the lead.

Apprehensive but not wanting to lose the lead I've gained I follow along, as I get closer though I see three Austin Ranger cars blocking two lanes of traffic, presumably for us, and the cops themselves whooping from the cars drifting past.

Repeating what I did earlier I turn into a drift, one much cleaner than my first time and into a curved tight street, one barely enough to fit two cars side-by-side which the others decide to take advantage of and start gunning for the car ahead of them, literally and figuratively as shots start up again. But rather than the Archer taking the lead, a 640 muscles its way past the smaller car and into the lead. The others don't bother to try and take the lead less the powerful car decides to crush them against a building.

I brace myself as I start closing distance to the action but a glare in my rearview mirror gives me half a second of warning before the solid hood of a Thrax slams into my rear. I jerk forward with a grunt at the force of the hit as my trunk crunches to absorb some of the force.

The Thrax takes the chance to pull up around to my side as I try to get the car back in control and I only get a glance at the driver before she decides to slam into me again. With the full weight of the armoured car behind her, mines doesn't stand a chance as it starts spinning out of control, the wheels catching nothing as I swing around and around.

Thankfully I don't get dizzy while I fight against the spinout and try to bring the car back in control but ultimately I'm forced to hit the brakes less I completely crash out.

I end up facing the wrong way and with a curse I spin around in my seat and back up, spinning the car around once I'm in place before pushing it again. The wheel jerks around my hand as I feel a tire rattle around in place, slowing me down and letting the rest pull ahead far enough for them to disappear around the curve.

"Goddamnit!" I slam a hand on the wheel in anger, but I keep going. It takes half a minute before the road widens again and into another straight, but far ahead I can already see the end with the crowd cheering for the winners.

I let out a disappointed sigh and let up on the pedal, giving my car some reprieve after putting it through so much it wasn't built for and in a few seconds, the rest of the racers catch up and leave me in the dust. By the time I get to the end I've ended up tenth, the other four not even finishing by virtue of crashing out.

"Let's hear it for the winner!" The announcers belts out, the poser from what it looks like the Hellies wearing their signature vest, lets out a roar over the crowds cheer while standing on his Quadra.

Sighing in disappointment I pull over out of the way, letting the beat-up car roll to a stop. Leaning back in my seat I close my eyes for a moment as I take my failure in. I was sure that I could get something out of this, even third place would've been enough for this race to be worth it, but I couldn't even get that.

"Hey rato!" I flinch in surprise at the angry yell, opening my eyes I see the Thrax pulled up by my side with the woman, early twenties at worst but I can only tell by her accented voice given all that chrome she has replacing her face that's twisted in a snarl, "Next time you try passing me puto I'll flatten you into paste you hear me!"

I can see she's got two more friends in her car, both even more chromed out than her and looking much scarier given how they glower at me- and what the hell? Who replaces their mouth with a shredder!?

Taking care not to look directly at the psycho revving his bladed teeth, I rapidly nod but thankfully before she can keep going, a Riffer puts himself between us.

"Calhua's, you've had your race. Delta," he orders with a rumble, his very large frame betraying the enhancements he's likely taken, the massive Carnage in his hands further showing off his strength given he brings it down from his shoulder as easy as breathing.

The trio in the car hesitate for a moment before the driver gives a tight nod and speeds off, though not before giving me one last glare.

Once they leave though, he doesn't do the same and I wilt slightly at his glare down at me.

"Come," he doesn't bother waiting before turning and walking off.

I sit dumbfounded for a moment before scrambling to get out and follow him. I can't be blamed for following his orders! He's nearly seven feet of pure muscle and testosterone, I'm not going to say no to his face! His frame easily splits the departing crowd in two as they get out his path to the monster truck.

As we step close, the lanky announcer looks over at my escort, and then down to me when he steps aside.

"Ahh, there's my young driver! That was some driving you were doing there in that ol' fossil," he greets with gusto, with a tinge of Italian in his accent.

The man slips off the truck and lands from the eight-foot fall with barely a grunt of exertion, definitely some sort of reinforced legs then.

"You put on quite a show for me young'in! You had folks on the net clambering in their seats when you came out of nowhere, and quite a few people poorer with the moves you pulled when they didn't expect it, though it made me even richer! So, what do you call yourself?"

"It's Drake and what's that about the net?" I question, I didn't see anyone following us the whole time but given the look he gives me at that question, I feel like it's a question that has quite an obvious answer.

"Not too bright… welp can't have them all!"

Patting my shoulder enthusiastically, he puts it around my shoulder and brings me to his side as he starts walking, "Well young'in, if I'm setting this race up, of course imma milk it for all its worth! Especially for those deckheads on the net having more money than sense."

"We got a few drivers streaming their view for us for a couple eddies, got a killer shot of you taking that drift if you wanna take a look. But enough of that! I bet you're wondering why I'm talking to you," he spins me around to face him again as we stop beside the monster truck, "Like I said you got some attention, especially from me and I gotta say, you have some talent. Was that your first-time racing?"

"Second time driving actually."

"Oh second time driving, that makes sen-" he pauses as he registers my words.

"Second time driving!?" He questions incredulously, it not diminishing as I nod.

"…you pulling my leg young'in? Cause I'm going to be quite cross if I find out you're lying to me. And people don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying, swear! Didn't have a car till I klepped it!" I belt out quickly, not wanting to get on the bad side of someone obviously big in the Riffers.

"…Okay first, never incriminate yourself like that, even if klepping a ride ain't worth a Ranger's time pushing the paperwork through for it, its best if you just don't say stuff like that," he says flatly, continuing after seeing my wince, "Now you're just a kid and you're probably telling the truth but either way, you did good as a rookie on the racing scene. But this race was probably too much for a debut, especially with you in that box on wheels you brought with you."

Turning his back on me, he lightly bends his knees and takes a small leap, and by small I mean clearing six feet easy to the steps leading to the door. As he steps in, I feel my agent vibrate in my pocket though I know enough sense not to bring out it right now and wait for him to get settled and turn back to me.

"Flicked you the detes but some of my boys put together races for rookies and those desperate for eddies, your both so go there. Small prize pool and even smaller bet payouts to keep it for rookies but if you're as skilled as I think you are, it'll be enough to mod your rig and then you can get back in my circle and start making some real eddies for the both of us."

He ignites the engine which starts up with a roar of combusting gas and rumbling pistons, "Well Drake it's been a pleasure, I eagerly wait for your next race!"

He lets out a whoop before accelerating away, forcing the remaining crowd out the road along with the few cars there less they get crushed under the massive wheels, the rest of the Riffers following its wake with their own pickups.

I just blink as I try to register what just happened before a pair of hands grab onto my shoulders and Marvin shoves his face in front of me.

"Drake! What the hell was that!? Why were you talking to Lorenzo of all people!?" He questions in concern.

"Calm down Marv, he was just telling me I should go to the rookie races they run, says I'd do better there and actually have a chance at making some eddies," I respond as I slowly pull his hands off my shoulders.

"Really? And he invited you personally?"

"Yeah, he did. Wait, how do you know his name? How big of a deal is he?" I question with some dread, wanting to know who exactly I have the attention of and at the same time not wanting to deal with knowing that.

"Um, yeah Lorenzo. Was talking around and got some detes on these guys. Choom, Lorenzo is the boss of the Riffers in Austin, he's one of their biggest earners with these races so he's got a big say in the Riffers nationally so yeah, he's a big deal."

I stare at him in shock at that, trying to exactly process how I got the attention of basically a gang boss that's part of the biggest gang stretching across Texas, "He says he'll be watching my races," I say in a whisper.

Marvin pales as we stand there, staring at each other.

I don't know when but we eventually both get back in the car and I limp it back home, the tire stubbornly sticking to the axle even as it wobbles all over the place. Eventually I pull into the underground garage of our apartment building, the parking space included in my parent's contract but never used given we don't have a car, a similar situation with the rest of the tenets leaving mines as the only car down here.

Given the lot itself has never been maintained in my 16 years of living here, it's just enough to be legal and likely some convoluted tax break so I can see why Petrochem decided to be generous and gift it to its employees living here. Though the paycheck can never cover for them to buy a ride.

We stew in the silence of the garage for a bit before I decide to break it, "I'm going to race."

He turns to look at me and he doesn't look surprised. I had him quickly look over the prizes for the rookie race for me on the way, Lorenzo somehow getting my number, and getting third in just one race is enough to cover what we would've gotten for a share of this car, even with the smaller prize pool.ki

"Even if I don't win, I'll pay you back for your share of the car, you know I'm good for it."

"Don't," he says after a moment, "I don't like this, it's really dangerous and you can never be sure of getting a payday, hell, even sure of getting out alive. But that's me. As your choom though? I know you're going to do this anyway and I'm damn sure going to be there for you all the way."

It's the first time I've heard him say anything like this before, and not going to lie, it's quite touching. I can feel the grin spreading across my face at his words which he copies, if a little weaker.

"Though that doesn't mean you can go psycho or start scaving, do that and I'll be the first in line to flatline you," he playfully threatens.

I laugh as we banter back and forth, leaving him at his apartment a floor below mine with a smile on my face as I unlock my own door.

My smile dims somewhat as soon as I step in, feeling the fatigue that the room somehow emanates. Though we try to keep it clean, the floor finds a way to somehow get dirty again from some unknown substance that we stopped questioning years ago. Over by the side, I can see what my parents like to call the master bedroom having its shutter shut, really, it's just an opening in the wall with a beat-up queen mattress shoved in there.

Sighing, I slip off the beat-up leather jacket Dad got me for my last birthday that I've worn every day since I got it, loving the light blue neon highlights it has which he knew I would like.

I don't bother to turn on the lights, half of them are broken anyways, and grab a can of TinBeef™ from the stack we keep.

Open it and soak it in the classic synth-BBQ sauce also from TinBeef™ that we bought separately, somehow also cooking the meat anywhere from rare to very well done. We tried using NiCola once so we could save some money… poor Remy the rat melted on the spot. Shake it up and after you hear some sizzling you got your family staple, steak in a can.

I inhale the beef as fast as I can, after so long of eating the same dinner with very few different variations, it eventually gets bland enough that you don't care.

Going through familiar motions, I pull the shutter to my own bedroom/shelf close, cutting me off from any sound and light from the rest of the house.

Staring at the ceiling, I contemplate how different my day went, broken from the monotone life that I've been stuck in for years now and how soon it might be changing permanently…

…

Zzzz

 

[Darkstep]

"Welcome to ChilliChanga™ can I take your order?" I blandly speak into my headset as I deep-fry a Mega Changa in a vat of 'cholesterol free' Bio-oil (we ran out of actual Bio-oil weeks ago so I have no idea what I'm using right now).

"Yeah can I have uhh… a Medium Lamb Changa. Oh, and hold the pepper beetles, and put on some extra chem-mayo. And uhh…" I sigh as I listen to the guy take a minute to spell out his order, a dozen different Changa's all with their own variation.

"That'll be a hundred and thirty eddies, please pay and pull up to the window," I say as I press a button to have the net transfer terminal delay his payment going through to give us some time and send the order to our two cooks.

"Fuck you Drake!" I hear Radd yell at me as he and Marquez frantically start cooking up more Changa's, if I see him spit in some of them, that's not my problem.

I pull out the crispy Mega Changa full of various nutrients, chemicals, that a person can eat without worrying about their health, probably not true but that's what they tell us to say if anyone asks. I wrap and send it off with a fake smile on my face, and take a moment to take breath as I wait for the large order to finis-

"Drake! I don't pay you to stand around doing nothing!" The nasally voice of my manager belts out over the sounds of the kitchen. The man himself shutting the door of his 'office' which is a closet he took over to do whatever he does during work hours. Lennie went in once… he never told us what he saw and he didn't come back the next day.

"Let Radd take over and go help dear Ashely up front," he orders before taking a gulp from his ever-present jumbo cup of NiCola.

I shrug before handing the headset over to the stressed-out teen who struggles to put it on while juggling the pan he's cooking the chili meat in and head out to the front, "And I better not catch you talking to her again!" He threatens, though it falls short given he splashes his drink on himself.

I snicker once the door closes and I'm out of view, leaving the slob to his cusses.

"Gooood mooorning my fellow Texans! It's Republic Rancher News here with your host, Doug Dimmedome! Today's weather is looking to be the best we've had in years with record low smog in the air, leaving us with plenty of sunshine which you should go enjoy at Austin's Funtime Pool Extravaganza for a low low price of 50 eddies an hour," half-heartedly listening to Doug go on in his signature 10-gallon hat in the TV in the corner, I gaze over the restaurant full of blue-collars inhaling their lunch in their short break before heading back out to work.

I go to the register beside Ashely who's taking orders robotically and I copy her and plaster the same fake smile once more.

"Welcome to ChilliChanga™ can I take your order?"

--

"Oh my god why can't Bill take a hint!" Ashely complains to me in a whisper, dropping her smile as our manager walks away in some sort of self-satisfaction back to his office.

I pat her shoulder commiseratingly, "You should have Leon come by again, he doesn't bother you for a while whenever he comes around."

"Ugh I wish, but he has work and won't get a day off for at least two weeks," she groans out, slumping onto the register.

Rush hour long finished, and with it we finally have a chance to take a break between orders. Officially we're supposed to get a lunch break, but in reality they make our time between taking orders count as 'break'.

"And onto local news, street racing has increased by 200% compared to last year, making 2059 the greatest year for our pastime, heck, there was even one last night and what a race it was! But that same race has brought back up a longstanding argument by the Join NUSA movement that our free road laws are too loose and open to abuse, that it'll be safer for Texans if we have more restricted road laws! Restricted they say! As you can tell viewers, this stance is not at all one our station nor do I personally support. Let the communists up north slave away for their masters, unable to exercise their free will on the roads built on their backs. We're the ones truly free on this continent and we won't let some scum sucking vultures from Militech try to have a say in our country! Now a word from our sponsors."

I hum along the catchy tune of the Petrochem ad before Ashely shifts and peers up at me with a side-eye.

"Sooo… I heard a little something from my gals at the race last night. You wouldn't have some juicy detes about the guy they saw tearing up the race in a beater now, would you?" She teases, which I respond with a weak grin, knowing she figured out who exactly their talking about.

"Well, if I knew something about him, I would definitely tell you," I hear the front door slide open with a jingle, "but unfortunately, I didn't get a good look so I can't say much about that nova driver of the 2045 Thorton Colby C240T he drove for his first ever race," I see her grin at my non-confirmation before turning to the approaching customer.

"Welcome to Chilli-" I stop myself when I see the Nova pointed between my eyes.

"A-a-alright fu-fuck-face! Don't mo-move!" The guy looks like the average construction worker we get around here, having gorilla arms and even wearing a safety vest and a NotSoHard Hardhat™ but looking at the black veins spread across his neck he's probably high off some chem filled drug which explains his stutters and slurring.

I do my best to stay completely still as Ashely yelps beside me when the robber turns to look at her, though it seems he kept enough sense not to fully turn away from me, not that I was going to try anything either way.

"You g-girl. Empty the register, n-n-now!" He ends by throwing a plastic bag onto the counter.

With wide-eyes she carefully follows the man's orders, taking care not to do anything too quick given the guy doesn't look like he cares about trigger-discipline.

"Hey! Why don't I hear you two working up there!" And of course, the slob decides to barrel through the door at the worst time possible.

It takes a second for both to register the other, one due to the drugs coursing through his veins and the other due to the sheer amount of NiCola no doubt frying his nerves. But when it does, Bill decides to do the stupid thing, dropping his drink he reaches down to the holster hidden behind a layer of his fat.

The gun pointed at me swings away and I take the chance to tackle into Ashely, falling safely behind the counter with a yelp of pain. Bill doesn't get a chance to finish pulling out his gun because as soon -Bang bang bang- as we touch the ground lead starts flying through the air.

Thump

I watch as the blob of meat falls to the ground, meeting his cybereyes as the light in them fade to nothing, signifying his death.

"Shit! Shit shit shit!" The robber, and now murderer, curses out as I hear him pull the bag off the counter and beats off in a sprint. Me and Ashely stay hidden behind the counter, taking in deep breaths for another minute after the door closes with a jingle.

I just sit there staring into the dead eyes of Bill, a gonk that was just yelling at me less than half an hour ago and is now dead on the floor of a fast-food restaurant who probably don't even remember he exists.

--

"Your manager… whatever his name is, has been found guilty of embezzling company profits, his assets have been seized and will be used as recompense for his crimes," the suited man clinically says as a pair of DeadMeat™ movers roll the covered carcass past us and into their van. It took even quicker for them to forget him than I thought

"A hundred eddies he ends up in a SCOP farm," Ashely whispers to me as we watch the door shut.

"No bet," I respond dryly, if you live in a city, its pretty easy to figure out where exactly your food comes from and its usually not something you wanna know.

The corpo clears his throat to get our attention back, "Now due to his actions and the current circumstance, corporate has decided for the best for your mental and physical health to let the four of you go. As per your contract, none of you are eligible for termination benefits nor do you have any legal grounds to pursue an unlawful termination so it's requested for the best of all that you do not pursue that avenue. Questions?" He drops with an empty smile.

It takes a second for me to process it, but to be honest? I don't really care. I do need the money, but with potential for higher paying gigs, and at that from racing that I actually enjoy? Well, it doesn't take much thought to decide that it doesn't matter to me.

Ashley doesn't look too torn up about losing the job as well, though she did tell me she was going to quit at the end of the week, saying she got a job over at Leon's as a secretary. Marquez though? He looks like his puppy was shot in front of him, but given I've found out over the past few weeks that he isn't exactly legally in the country, it makes sense he doesn't speak up.

"But its just a murder, its not that big of a deal! Won't you guys need workers when you open tomorrow?!" Radd asks in desperation.

"As I said, your termination was carefully decided after considering the impact of this incident to your health. Now due to this coincidence, it has been decided that we will be testing robotic workers in one of our locations, specifically this location. Estimates predict that it will bring in an additional 2% in profit after maintenance costs, hence there being no need to hire any new workers. Now, no more questions? Have a good day and remember, ChilliChanga™ is family and we hope to see you again as customers!" He ends in a chipper tone before spinning on a heel and entering his purple Alvarado, letting his driver/bodyguard shut the door behind him before driving away.

I awkwardly exchange a glance with Ashely as Radd starts sobbing in the middle of the parking lot and quietly leave him be, Marquez going on his own way with his head low.

"So that just happened," she says flatly as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Yeah, well what can you do. Though it does look like you won't get a chance to sucker punch Bill like you wanted, unless of course you're going to follow his corpse till you get a chance," I say with a chuckle.

"Tempting, but no," she says with a giggle, "Although I've lost my chance, I'm not too bothered by it. That gonk robber decided to do what I've been thinking about for months."

"But enough about him, he's dead now. After last night, you planning on doing what I think you are?" She questions, one that I reply with a confident nod.

"Well let me know when you race next, I want to make some eddies when you inevitably crash out," she teases, and I don't get a chance to shoot back when a car pulls up beside us with a honk.

"Hello ladies, need a ride?" I see Leon calls out from inside.

I give a short wave to him as Ashely settles inside before turning back to me, "I was serious by the way, don't think you can forget about us peasants once you start making it big."

"Yeah yeah don't worry. When I do make it big, I'll be sure to throw down some scraps for some of the little people."

"Hey, who you calling little?"

"Oh shut up Leon. Stay safe Drake, and remember, I'm coming to your next race so bring your A-gamaaaaahhhh!" She cuts off with a scream as Leon decides to step on the gas while she's out the window and I blow up in laughter as I somehow hear her cursing him out as they accelerate away.

I devolve into chuckles before continuing my way. It takes a few minutes of dodging fast-paced pedestrians, and one truck that decides the sidewalk was an open lane until a mag into its windshield convinces it back onto the road before, I reach my destination.

"Meat skewers! Meat skewers here!"

"Hey buddy! How about some new tattoos to show off to your output!"

"Who wants some preem BD's fresh off the chair! Experience it like never before!"

Various stall owners call over their neighbours in the plaza, one dedicated to some bigwig politician during Texas's bid for independence though no one really remembers it anymore and it's been taken over by the flea market. Here you can get anything from food, guns, vehicles, chrome and if you're savvy enough and know the right people, some military and Militech contraband as well but I've only heard about it, never actually seen anything like it yet.

I pull out my agent and dial Marv as I flow through the stalls, keeping my wallet and iron close less a wandering hand snatch it as I push through the crowd and wait for him to pick up.

"What's up choom?"

"Well… a lot actually Marv, I'll tell you later but for now could you head down to the garage and bring the car over to the plaza, the one with the flea market? Need to pick up some tools and I got a few ideas to spruce up the ride."

"Uhh, sure sure. I'll be there in twenty."

"Alright see you soon," I drop the call as I see the first stall I need, one full of used tools.

"Notice anything you like boy?" The old man behind the stall grins with a glint in his eyes that lets me know I'm about to regret showing any interest.

 

[Darkstep]

"Alright, take a right down here and we'll be there, and watch out for that ditch," I direct Marvin as we travel between two hills of plastic and metal.

"I know how to drive gonk, stick with being a passenger princess," he bites out, twitching a bit when he notices my grin.

Taking a break from annoying him, like I've been doing the whole trip out to the dump, I lean back in my seat and peer out the window to the decades old trash surrounding us. The area of the city dump we're at is pretty far from the main dumping site, but it also puts us far away from anyone diving for anything worth an eddie and out of anyone else's hair.

"Ok see that corner there? Take it and I'm pretty sure that's where the stuff is."

"Pretty sure? Drake I don't know about you but I'd rather not get lost around here."

I wave off his concern, "Don't worry about it, I know this place like the back of my hand. Just don't remember exactly where the stuff we want is."

He huffs before taking the corner and I hold onto the dash as the car rumbles precariously over the terrain, the stubborn wheel somehow still moving forward though I'm not sure for how much longer.

"So you haven't said exactly it is what we're looking for. I'm assuming its parts to fix the car but wouldn't anything useful have been picked clean a while ago? Or just completely useless from how old it'll be?" He asks a good question.

"Well see for yourself," I point around us as we pull into a clearing, surrounding us on all sides are rusted cars, ranging anywhere from a decade ago to as far back as 2020.

Marv whistles as he pulls us to a stop in the center.

Thunk

I grunt as the car drops, the wheel finally popping out though at least it chose a good time to do so. We share a glance and laugh at our luck.

Awkwardly stepping out the car, I turn to look at Marv who's taking in the view.

"How'd you find this place?" He asks as he walks up to an old motorcycle, though it's too broken down for me to be sure, but I think it might be an old Harley.

"My grandma, she brought my dad around here when it was part of the main dumping grounds for some extra eddies," I answer as he kicks the frame, the metal breaking off easy from rust, "He did the same with me a couple times when I was little but stopped after getting his job at the field. I never came back cause what's left now is not worth lugging all the way back to the city to sell, and those parts are what we're here for."

I pop open the trunk and grab both toolboxes I was able to fill up from the market yesterday, for surprisingly cheap because people don't really care to try and repair their tools when they stop working. Thankfully most of them were simple problems wire or gear replacements.

I guess with no self-repair vids on the net, corps have very large legal teams on standby for anyone that posts, they just eat the cost.

Although I do admit I may have irreparably broken two tools and made the hand welder catch on fire though I hold my point that it's meant to do that. Fixing up the tools gave me some good experience and saved me a ton of eddies to put towards getting some extra stuff so plus sides all around.

I plop the boxes down and pull on some thick gloves I sneaked into a deal without the vendor noticing, "Alright, time for the fun part Marv, time to gut this thing."

"How much of it?" He asks and I laugh at the dread in his voice as he puts on the second pair.

"Unfortunately for you, everything but the stuff I need to drive this thing. So we're taking out the back seats, any unneeded covering, electronics and cosmetics. Basically, everything," I ignore his groan as I open the door up and start us off.

It takes us two hours to take what we need out, pushing us to about one in the afternoon and the only reason it took that long was because of how oddly everything was built on the car… though I guess that's the whole point so you can't do anything without an auto shop.

I pass a can of soda to Marv as I sit down beside him on the backseats we just threw out and lower my bandana to take a swig, there was a lot of dust and other things flying in the air that we didn't want to risk breathing in.

"What now?" Marv huffs between gulps.

"We go look for some new wheels and whatever else we can find. We won't be getting outta here with only three wheels, and the other ones are pretty bare as well."

Saying that though, we decide to take a break for a bit more before heading out. We split up to head down the different paths that branch off from the main clearing but stay on call on our agents in case we find something and need help.

The first path I go down I don't see any of the carcasses of cars in good condition, the same holding when I open a few hoods and see the engine block either completely missing or badly damaged.

"Got nothing over here, you?" I ask, a little disheartened.

I hear him grunt and take a second to answer, "Got something good, found the body of another 240 and its hood is in better shape than ours."

"Oh that's a good find, need some help over there?"

"Nah I'm good, it'll take me a minute to take it off but I can drag it over so you can keep searching."

Mood a little better from at least one of us finding something good, I head down another path extending from my own. Again, nothing good but my eyes lock onto an Archer Hella, one looking like it decided to hug a pole with its front, but the rest of the body looks in good condition and I get an idea as I look at the extended wheel covers on the sides. Cutting the pieces off with my welder, I lug them back to the car before heading down a new path and I immediately know I hit the jackpot.

I see two economy vehicles of different makes with all their wheels intact, but a closer look convinces me to take only three, the rest flat from holes, though it's still a great find and I giddly roll them back just in time to see Marv struggling to drag a dented sheet of metal?

I ask the question in my mind to Marv who grins back at me, "Found a Thrax that apparently didn't do its job in protecting the guys inside. But its hood was intact and since it's armored, I had an idea. Why don't we cut off the part of the cabin that goes over the trunk and fit this on instead? It'll take a little work but will protect you real good, shave some weight off and with a cheap camera or two you'll still be able to look backwards."

"So, a bootleg Crystal Dome? I'm a hundred percent for that, good idea Marv," I grin as his turns into a proud smile.

With there still being some time until sunset, we decide to head down one more path together for a quick look before working on the car and what a choice it was as I walk around the burnt husk of an Alvarado.

"Drake, this doesn't look as old as the rest of this place like you said it is," Marv warily says as he slowly approaches the car from behind me.

I go up to the front and peer into the empty cabin, all the plastic and electronics looking melted, and the seats charred to a crisp, nothing useful for us.

"Yeah well it looks like its been out here for a couple years," I go around to the back door and a quick tug lets me know its unlocked but jammed so I put more force into the next one, "so we shouldn't have any trouble- oh hell!" I back up as a black skull rolls to my feet.

Peering inside with some trepidation, I blanch as I see at least three other skeletons inside with bones on the ground and the seats, but I think it's more because I don't think that many bones can come from just three people.

"What is this choom," Marv whispers as he looks over my shoulder.

I tear my gaze away from a skull partially fused with the seat to the rest of the cabin, seeing nothing else other than more bones, I slowly shut the door again.

"What- what should we do? Call the Rangers?" I turn to look at Marv, noticing that he's looking kind of pale, but I shake my head at him.

"No we shouldn't, not much of a point. Like I said this has been here for a few years now and the fire probably burnt anything useful to ashes long ago."

"But… these people were murdered Drake, you know how the Rangers are about it," he says weakly, and I know it's more to convince himself than me.

"Yeah and we both know what they'll think. They'll see two kids in a place they shouldn't be who found a car with skeletons, and when they eventually come up with no leads? All they have is us. It'll be fifty-fifty whether they pin this on us to close the case or let us go with a fine neither of us can afford to pay, and that's not all. You see any cyberware in there?" I question.

I continue when he gives a shake of his head, "Well me neither, means this was probably scav work and those guys are connected, enough to notice a case open about their work and with our names in it as the ones that found it? They'll know it was us. I'd rather not get attention from any of those guys, so let's not worry about these guys, sucks but we can't do anything for them."

I can see that he's still uneasy about this but accepts my reasoning. To be fair I get where he's coming from, we both did our best to stay out of these situations over the years but the few places I've worked at forced me into them, but Marv? He has quite an intuition of bad situations and gets out long before something bad happens so it's probably worse for him as it's his first time possibly needing to deal with Rangers.

I leave him where he is looking through the cracked glass and head to the front of the car. I get out my welder and switch it to cutting and start working on the spots of the hood that fused with the body, taking a few minutes before the hood's disconnected and I lift it up.

Unfortunately, the fire was strong enough to reach all the way inside and made the battery explode, ruining essentially the whole engine. With a sigh of disappointment, I drop the hood but looking around I don't see Marv anywhere and call out to him.

"I'm down under!"

Going back to where he was, I see his feet sticking out from under the car with a small power jack lifting the car up.

I squat beside his feet as I hear him tinkering with something inside before grunting and shuffling himself out, "Anything good?"

"Think so. The catalytic converter looks good, don't think the heat reached all the way under but I can't get it out, loosened the bolts but there's something else keeping it in place," he says with a grimace as he stands and dusts his clothes.

"Let me try," he waves me on, and I grunt as I lay back where he was and shuffle myself under.

I can see why he thinks it looks promising; the thing somehow looks near brand-new bar some dust and rust somehow. It takes a few seconds to figure out the problem, a set of bolts hidden behind a protective shield which I think was meant to make it harder to steal but given I just pull it off with my fingers, I think it's just a marketing thing for 'improved' theft prevention.

We head back as fast we can to the car after I take it out, both of us working together to replace the wheel that fell off along with the two that look the worst off but keep the ones with minimal tread for the rear wheels, too much traction and I won't be able to drift with the forward drive which is way more important than the extra grip I lose. It looks pretty weird with there being three different rims on the car but I'm just thankful they were all the size we needed.

With there still being time before dark I decide to look on the forum I've been using as a textbook for studying up on cars and mods I can do.

It's essentially the most active car modification forum on the net, needing an invite from someone already in it, something Lorenzo sent along earlier. The corps seem to be fine with it, which I think is because racing is what gives them the best marketing, at least in Texas. Everyone wants what the winner drives.

So, although they dislike so much information on their proprietary cars on the net for anyone to look at, as long as it stays between a select group, their willing to overlook it for a better showing, and ideas for improvements they can use for their next generation. Though I think there's certain things I should keep to myself, just so y'know, I don't get put on a mega-corp's hitlist for spreading too much to other corp's.

It takes less than five minutes for me to find information on catalytic converters and how to modify them along with quite an interesting bit of information. Catalytic converters aren't actually needed anymore, it's something that corps use to justify adding an extra thousand or more to a car's price which is why laws on it haven't been changed. Hell, they barely put as much platinum inside for it to be worth how much they charge for it.

CHOOH2 burns clean enough that using a catalytic converter has minimal improvement on emissions, enough that everyone on that thread recommended just dropping it and using a straight piped exhaust which significantly improves performance, something which I like the sound of.

"You think Pietro is open to buying this off us?" I ask Marv, him being the one that talks to the old Balkan the most.

"Yeah he probably will, he doesn't really care where parts come from as long as they work."

"Perfect, tomorrow morning we'll head over and start on our car, now help me load everything up, my sense of smell is coming back and it's trying to kill me so I don't want to come back to this dump until I have to."

 

[Darkstep]

Beep beep bee-

I grumble as I flop my head back down on my pillow. Kill me now please. I know that I have to wake up, but it doesn't mean I can't hate myself for choosing a god-awful hour to wake at!

It takes a few minutes before I get enough motivation to slide open my bed's shutter and step out with a yawn, looking over to my parents bed, I sigh when I see they're gone already for the day.

Shaking my head, I ignore the small pang in my heart at not seeing them for a week before I go on and get ready with some breakfast and head down to Marv's place. It takes a couple of knocks before I hear a thump from the other side of the door and chuckle at the faint curse I hear.

"I hate you," Marv grumbles as he turns right back around after opening the door and flops back onto his bed.

"Yeah I hate me too. Oi! Don't go back to sleep!" I say with a light kick to his shin, when that doesn't get him to move, I let out a barrage of kicks until he gets annoyed enough to send one back and get up with a glare my way.

It takes another ten minutes before we're on the street, thankfully early enough to miss rush hour and late enough to miss all the buses heading out to the oil fields.

"So, you talk to Pietro about what we're offering?" I question in between sips of some canned coffee we got from a vending machine outside our building.

"Yeah he responded an hour ago, says he's interested and will probably offer us a couple hundred depending on its condition."

"Perfect. You think he's going to try and scam us?"

"Pietro is a… alright guy. Pretty sure I've grown on him enough to not lowball us too badly

"Well fingers crossed cause we're here," I say as I turn into the parking lot of 'PP Auto', nice name. The lot is essentially empty bar a few beater cars near the shop but looking through the open garage doors, I can see three cars being worked on by a couple of mechanics.

Pulling up between the ones parked outside I let Marv head on in by himself to talk our man up while I wait by the car. I get a few minutes alone which I spend absently taking in the environment, a pretty shitty looking one but that's par for the course in Dallas. By the time I get bored enough to try and eavesdrop on the mechanics conversation which I can pick up snippets of I get a message from Marv to bring in the converter.

Heaving it from the trunk into my arms, I walk around to the open garage doors of the shop where I can see Marv talking to a man in a red mechanics jumpsuit with his back to me at the other end of the shop.

I let my eyes hover over the cars raised in the air being worked on by mechanics as I walk past. A Galena looking in good condition, a piece of shit MaiMai being ripped apart barehanded, good riddance, and wait what? I stop walking and boggle at the pristine car in front of me.

A pristine BMW, a brand I didn't even think had cars on the road anymore with them being long devoured by their competition. It definitely looks like something out of time but could definitely make donuts around most modern cars in a race.

"Like it?" A digital voice speaks out. Turning to the side I see Marv and Pietro approaching, the latter exhaling smoke from a DigiCig.

"I didn't even know BMW's were on the road anymore, thought they would be scrap or in a collection by now!"

He huffs a laugh as he comes to a stop beside me and gazes at the car, "You are right about that, and it was the same for this one but let's just say it's in better hands now… my hands," he says with a wink.

I chuckle at that as I pass the converter over and step to the car for a closer look.

"It's a 9018s, a sedan if you can believe it that tops at 210 miles," Pietro says from behind as he inspects the converter and mumbles a question to Marv.

I whistle as I peer inside, the tint not letting me see much but I can tell it's quite spacious inside.

"Alright, Alvarado's are still big on the market and this one I can clean up and put in another like new. I can offer 400 for it."

"400!? Converters go for at least 800! And like you said, this is essentially brand new, and you can get it off your hands easy with Alvarado's being big," Marv counters with a frown.

"Now you go too far choom, converters haven't been close to 800 in years! And even if I can get this off my hands, I still need to find a customer I can weasel it by and that could take months, months that I'll be sitting on it, 500," he says confidently, and I groan silently when I realize this is going to go on for a minute.

I ignore the two and keep inspecting the car as they go on for ten minutes! Ten! Before finally coming to 575 for it and given how happy Pietro is after shaking Marv's hand I know that he got the better end of the deal but looking at how exhausted Marv looks I ignore it and we accept the eddies.

"Good doing business with you chooms! Know that I'll always be open for business with you two! Now, anything else your dear friend Pietro can do for you?"

I hum before answering, "Saw you had a bay free, how much to rent it and some tools for a couple hours."

He raises an eyebrow at my request, "Oh you want to work on your car do you? Why not, for a small fee, hand it to us professionals? We've had years of experience and can save you hours of work and headaches in just a few hours," he says with a customer service smile that I have seen far too much of.

"Is that 'small' fee actually small?" I question, though by how his smile widens a bit further while staying silent is and answer in itself.

"Anyone ever tell you got a million eddie smile Pietro?" I say blandly, making him laugh out loud and smack my back.

"Oh that's funny! Marvin, you should bring him around more and make this place livelier, god knows my brothers aren't joyful enough," he says the last bit a bit louder, enough to reach the mechanics, who I guess are his brothers, working on either side of us who respond with a middle finger and an empty NiCola can that gets thrown and hits him dead on.

"Ow! That's my nose you asshole!" He says with a raised fist which the offending brother ignores with a snort and goes back to work.

He glares at the man's back for a moment before turning it to us at our chuckles, "The disrespect I get around here I swear," he grumbles as he rubs his nose.

"So about renting it out...?" I question with some hope.

"Fine, I'll even give you a discount 'cause I've known Marvin for a while. 150 for the day and tools, though you break anything and I'm taking it out of your ass tenfold," he amplifies by pointing real close at my face.

I agree with a relieved sigh as I softly push his finger away, Marv handing him some of the eddies we just made over to him. Although still pretty expensive, it's a much better deal than what we could have gotten elsewhere.

Marv goes around to bring the car into our bay while I try for a trade with the man. After looking through the forum, I know for sure now that it'll be best to completely get rid of the catalytic converter and just go for a straight-piped exhaust, a true straight-piped exhaust at that. Getting rid of the muffler is just a touch of illegality, but Rangers don't give a shit about it until you do something big enough to get off their asses and add it to your sentence.

It takes another ten minutes for us to come to terms, a good quality, if used, straight-piped exhaust with its converter removed. I do however end up forking another hundred for a new O2 sensor for it and a complete reprogramming of the ECU. Unsurprisingly corps would rather not have proprietary programs being easily available for anyone, so if you want to tune anything? You either somehow get past the sheer amount of black ICE they loaded it up with, or just wipe it and start from scratch.

Now I don't have any programming skills, at all. My public-school education left much to be desired and after graduating middle school, I didn't have much time to dedicate studying the finer arts, hence needing to rely on Pietro's work.

Thankfully the actual replacement takes less than an hour with the reprogramming done while we were working, so when I start the engine up, I grin at the immensely improved roar from it.

"Oh ho~ driving this is going to be fun."

Now with the difficult part over, it's time to work on the body of the car. First off, we start working on cutting off the extended cabin, thankfully there's not much keeping it in place, so we get it off in a few minutes. The exposed top of the trunk gets covered with some scrap that Pietro had lying around.

The armored sheet though is hard to work on with our hand-held oxy torch, thankfully Pietro has a proper, larger one meant for cutting cars up. Thankfully it's just enough to get through the hood and with some time and effort we're able to cut out a piece to size and weld with the extra armor being welded onto the trunk to completely cover our backs from anyone trying to shoot at us.

The cameras also don't take much effort to screw onto the stands we welded on, both being wireless and being directly stream to a screen I replaced the rearview mirror with.

The final thing to add was something I thought of to try and fix how exposed the wheels are, the race showing me that bar the glass, it's likely the weakest link. By welding the extended wheel covers I took from the Hella, which are decently sturdy, should theoretically keep most things from smashing my wheels off.

"Not going to lie, this looked better in my head," Marv idly comments as I finish the welding on the last one.

Taking off my face shield I wipe the sweat on my forehead as I take in the car. He is right, it does look pretty ugly with the body looking off, the rough welds we did sticking out like a sore thumb and the mismatched wheels doesn't make it any better.

"Yeah it doesn't look pretty, but it doesn't matter, all that does is that it performs better than it did before for tomorrow," I say as I throw the mask on the table we took over.

Marv takes a gulp of some off-brand soda as he takes a seat on one of the stools, "If you say so, you know more about this stuff than me. We gotta do anything else?" He questions.

"Hmm… that's the main stuff. You can relax for a bit if you want, I'm going to do a once over and some maintenance, may as well do an oil change as well since we're here already, god knows when it had its last," I say as I take out the oil pan.

Marv gives me a thumbs up in response and brings out his agent while I go to the car and start the finishing touches. It takes me near closing time, well closing time for their legal side of the business, before I finish up and we pull out the garage.

"Come by again you two! I'm always here to take your eddies!" He says cheerfully behind us before the garage door shuts close.

Marv lets out a yawn beside me as I slowly take us across the parking lot, "I don't know about you choom but I'm beat, want to head back?"

The yawn I let out is its own response, but my hands itch in excitement to test the improved car out. It takes barely a second to debate with myself before I feel a grin stretching across my face, one which Marv notices and doesn't like the look of as his previously languid eyes snap open in fear.

"Drake, don't you dare-"

VROOM

He gets cut off as I push the pedal to the metal, and we get pushed back in our seats as we launch. I laugh hysterically at Marv's scream; both being muffled by the roar of the engine and the popping from the exhaust as I spin the wheel and drift into the street at speed.

I drift across two lanes just to merge in, laughing as my tires screech and those I cut off honking at us but I don't stop, not for anything.

Ting

I flinch from the sound of lead striking metal right beside my ear, but thankfully the years spent in the dump hasn't decreased the durability of the armor. Grin sharp, I burn through gas as I watch the needle inching higher and higher on the speed dial as I weave between traffic, just barely scraping between sometimes.

Up ahead I see an intersection with a red light but none following it, everyone just slowing down and trusting themselves to cross it. I don't let up.

Marv's scream reaches a higher pitch as my eyes flit back and forth, taking in all the cars and all the available space, anticipating where people are going to be and I plot out my path. I squeeze between two cars like butter, passing them in such speed that they don't even have time to react before I'm long gone. A car ahead of us crawls into our path, painstakingly trying to get to the other side of the street perpendicular to us.

I can feel each individual millisecond as we approach, enough that I can make out the driver of the car just barely catching us out of the corner of her eye. I give a slight tilt to the left and I see a small spark go off from the brief contact as I veer away from a certain death, barely denting either car before we're gone.

"-atch out!" I tune in to Marv's warning as I take some focus off the road.

"Don't worry!" I yell over the sound of the engine, "Put some trust in me choom, we're gonna be fine!" I end with a laugh.

All he responds with is buckling his seatbelt which really? I'm not that bad, I got us all the way here without dying, haven't I?

I don't speak up though and let my actions do the talking as we tear through the streets. By the time I drift down into the garage straight into our spot, I know for a fact I cut what was a twenty-minute drive down to just five minutes.

"See? I told you we'd be fine, put some faith in your old pal," I say with a full blown smile on my face as the adrenaline slowly starts to fade.

"Ow!" I yelp, rubbing my stinging arm where he punched me.

"Asshole," he says as he shakily steps out the car and directly to the elevator, ignoring my calls to him.

"C'mon Marv, it wasn't even that bad!" I say as I scramble out the car and after him.

 

[Darkstep]

It took me apologizing half a dozen times, a bribe of some ice cream the next day and a promise never to drive like that with him in the car before Marv's finally mollified.

The race isn't until later tonight so the two of us decide to hang out and relax before our big break, which after the non-stop work we've been doing the past week is a much-needed break. By the time the sun's setting and we're on the road to Riverside I feel much better than I did all week, though I can still feel a pit in my stomach as I pass by broken down suburban buildings and drive closer to the city's edge.

I hear the crowd before I see them. Turning a corner, I can see down the street that it's packed, looking like every John and Jill around are here. As I approach, I notice most aren't like the ones from the last race, though given this is where the worst off live I don't doubt that this is probably one of the few pieces of entertainment they can afford to watch, cause y'know, it's free.

"Doesn't look to be that bad of a competition like the last race choom, you might have a real good chance here," Marv says from beside me as we watch two cars pass from an adjacent street, the crowd cheering as they head down the straight and disappear behind a house.

I hum noncommittally as we finally get past most of the crowd and into a rather large intersection, the street packed with cars and people filtering between them. Marv is right, most of the cars around range from being absolute pieces of garbage to cars that don't look to be modded beyond aesthetics so it's looking good for me right now.

I pull between two cars near the entrance, both looking nothing special with dents and rust covering their cars and the drivers looking not much better than the wheels they ride on. I studiously ignore the dorphhead beside me as he tweaks out in his seat and instead get out to talk to the Riffer approaching us.

"Fifty to get in, hand it over or beat it," he says bluntly, though looking at how his trigger finger looks to be itching, I decide to just hand over the bill.

"Good, it starts in twenty so be ready Drake," my eyes widen as I stare at the back of the ganger as he walks away.

I turn to look at Marv who looks just as bewildered as me, "How in the hell did he know who I was?" I question with a little fear.

My choom just shakes his head in response as he stares at the man who disappears into the crowd, "I'm… just gonna go, got a bet to put down y'know, can't stick around too long, good luck," he quickly belts out.

I stare at his back in slight betrayal as he scampers away but quickly call to him when I remember something important, "Marv wait up!" I yell, him reluctantly stopping when he hears me jogging after him.

I lower my voice so that only he can hear my words, "Bet on me getting third."

His eyes snap to mine but I continue before he can get a word out, "Yeah I know this is kinda fixing things, but do you really think the other drivers would like a kid coming out of nowhere and, if I could, win the whole thing? I'd be making enemies in my first race here and neither of us can deal with that!"

"Well I don't know about you but I'm more scared of the Riffers than some dorphheads!" Marv furiously belts out, though thankfully he knows enough to keep it to a whisper.

"It'll only be for a race or two choom! I've already got too much attention from the last race, we can just say I'm getting my feet under me, and once we got a read on the other drivers, we can see what we can do to make sure I won't be flatlined the second I win, if I win."

Although still reluctant, I can see that my argument has gotten through to him and he stiffly nods before continuing on.

I watch him go before turning but my step stutters when I see two people hovering in front of my car, wait one of them is sitting on my hood!

"Hey assholes!" I yell as I push through the crowd between us.

The one standing clearly hears me and he's mid turn when I finally notice the sheer size difference between the two of us and I'm starting to slightly regret my life before I catch a glance at his face.

"Is that really how you talk to a choom Drake?" Leon rumbles with a smirk.

I laugh, with relief that I try to keep it hidden, as I slow down and approach him, "Yeah well you're not exactly the most friendly looking guy when I can't even see who you are," with massive gorilla arms and reinforced tendons visible all over his body that he isn't shy to show off with wearing a tank top and shorts, I'm not exactly wrong when I say that everyone around us keeps at least ten feet between them and him.

By the time he's completely turned, I can finally see the other person who decided to sit on my car, "Yeah you don't talk to a lady like that! Beat him up Leon!" Ashely haughtily orders, pointing my way.

Although I'm not looking, I can tell that the man rolled his eyes hard at that but thankfully doesn't move a muscle, "Oh ha ha, now why don't you get your ass off my baby, it can't handle the weight of deadbeats."

She pouts at my comeback but slides off my car and turns on her input, "Hey your supposed to beat people up when their mean to me!"

Now I actually see him roll his eyes at his output's whining, "You dug your own grave, now you have to lie in it."

"Since when do you say idioms you lug!?"

"Since when do you know big words like idiom," and she punches him in the gut.

My brows shoot up in surprise when Leon buckles at that, his exhale sounding like it hurt a bit. I eye her with some trepidation as she crosses her arms in self-satisfaction before addressing me again, "Nice seeing you out of work, gotta say you look much better than in that shitty uniform," she compliments, Leon giving a thumbs up as well which I respond with a smile.

I typically keep my hair short so that it doesn't get in the way with a little styling on the sides, but I like my brown hair just the way it is, no-need for anything special, not like I could afford it. Tech shirts and pants are my to-go outfits, the style being pretty cheap compared to anything else and it looks pretty decent with the jacket Dad gave me.

She's looking good as well, during work she wore baggy clothes and kept her hair wrapped up tight in a bun so our manager couldn't have even more reason to harass her. Now she's wearing it in an elaborate braid, strands of techhair highlights flashing between different colors in her blonde hair and wearing a cropped jacket with a Lizzy Wizzy graphic tee under it.

We shoot the shit with each other until riffers start going around and shoving the hanger-ons off the road as the drivers start up their cars.

"Good luck drake, break a leg!" Ashely says with a wave as the two of them back away into the crowd.

Giving a wave of my own to them, I slide into my seat and take a deep breath as the anxiety I pushed down threatens to rush back up again but I do my best to ignore it, focusing my thoughts on the street and the people I'll be racing against as I roll my car in position.

Looking down the line it looks like there's a lot more racers in this race than the last, by what I can see there being at least twenty. I guess the odds of winning something from this is far better than any other race around leading to a lot more people driving around here.

Way ahead of me I see someone stand up on the stoplight above, yelling something into a megaphone that I can't hear over the rumbling of my car. I glance to my right at the dorphhead that was beside me earlier and dismiss him as competition, the man just blankly staring off into space.

Putting my attention back to the announcer, I watch as the red light comes on, taking a deep breath as I rev the engine when it hits yellow.

VROOOM

I slam the pedal down the moment I see green, and I push against the now familiar force of acceleration and weave around the two cars ahead of me, both slower to react, giving me enough time to pick up speed far faster and easily weave between them.

It's only when I'm nearly to the light that I notice that I'm laughing, just before passing another pair that decided to slam into one another and fight, giving me the chance to leave them in the dust.

Ting

I grin as the metal holds behind me as I approach the next car battling it out with the one ahead of him. Slowly creeping up beside him- oh shit!

I quickly jerk the wheel to the side, fighting to keep my body still when I collide with the car I was trying to pass to dodge out of the way of a car spinning out of control, passing where I was just a moment before.

Locking eyes with the surprised women beside me, my eyes widen in surprise when she snarls and in turn, her hair literally bursts into flames! She turns and disengages before suddenly smashing herself right back into me.

I curse as I jerk in my seat from the force of it, cursing even more when I notice a car slowly approaching from behind in my camera, hoping to pass by while we fight here. Glancing to the side, I feel the world slow down as she pulls to the side farther, I wait in anticipation before she commits to turning that I slam the breaks, my new tires screeching in effort as I slow down just moments before she slides where I was and instead hits the front of the other car.

Gunning the engine as soon as she passes and I watch with a grin as she applies the pit maneuver to herself as her car spins out of control from the force of the other car hitting her tail, taking her out the game and slowing down the other driver in the process.

The car feels amazing, like it's a whole new car with how fast it accelerates, but let's see how well it handles.

Up ahead I see a sharp turn from an T-intersection, the road ahead blocked by a dilapidated house, one with a car half lodged in the walls of the building with some members of the crowd hollering and jeering as they throw cans and garbage at the crashed car. The two cars ahead of me exchange a last round of fire, both using semi-auto from what I hear, right before they hit the corner.

I'm right behind them as they both decide to keep it safe and turn the corner, I'm not them. My tires screech as I smoothly go into a drift, taking it wider than the two and I grin at the boggled faces of the two as I cleanly pass and leave them behind.

The momentum from the drift lets me slip past another car that decides to take offense and shoot a few into the back of my car and now I'm really grateful that Marv thought of the idea to armor it up otherwise I'm sure I'd be dead by now. I'll remember to annoy him less for a week… a day, yeah a day.

Up ahead it looks like a car is taking potshots at the two behind him with what looks like a Budget Arms auto pistol, its distinct pink standing out and it immediately making me feel disgusted, Texan gun sensibility rightly taking offense to the massive red flag of a gun. Though it does do its job because as soon as he lets loose behind him, one of the cars gets riddled with holes and immediately weaves out of control and slams into a lamppost, the car giving up before the lamp as it crumbles into itself.

I stay behind the last car and let it soak up the bullets, the driver skilled enough to weave around and not give the shooter a chance to take a shot but eventually, the inevitable happens. In the middle of a spray behind him, I can see the gun start to melt in his hands, the plastic giving up and burning the hand holding it as he drops the molten plastic and fervently tries to shake the residue off his hand.

The driver ahead of me decides it's his best chance, stopping his evasive maneuvers and punches the gas to pull up beside the driver, something I decide to copy and do my best to stay out of view as the two cars level out with each other.

I look through my camera and see a huge Liberty through the shot-up windshield of the driver pointed at the Budget Arms shooter, the man quickly raising a hand with fear before I see a flash and a spray of blood splashes across the windshield.

Gazing for a moment too long, I push the car out my mind as it slowly veers off the road, focusing on the coming corner. This one not as sharp for a drift so I keep my speed as I turn and pull up right behind the car ahead. I go to slip past him but quickly tap my brake to avoid a crash when he suddenly swerves in front of me.

Trying once more and getting blocked again, I feel a scowl start pulling my face. This time I quickly press on the pedal and blatantly show where I'm going to pass and when I see him commit, I juke the other way and easily pull up beside him. Looking him dead in the eyes, I flip the bird at him and continue past him when he starts screaming in rage.

Smirking in amusement, it doesn't take much to pass the next three, too focused on each other and not a new car slipping between them, at least not before I'm long gone. I end up getting a few shots at me for my troubles but they don't do much harm.

Now for the last visible car I position myself for the coming turn, and slide into a tighter drift than the other and-

My eyes widen when a car comes screeching around the same corner, headlights pointed straight at me and I feel my life flash before my eyes as I try to widen my drift in time. Metal shrieks in pain as our cars rub against each other as we pass, and I feel my car get pushed further into the turn and smash into the side of the one I was trying to pass.

Jerking away from him, I try to bring my breath under control before getting slammed into the side again. I straighten with a grunt and glare at the other driver as another car passes from the other direction, what the hell's up with that!?

Up ahead I see another car coming at us and I grin when an idea pops in my head. Taking the initiative I decide to slam into the side of my competitor, shoving him to the side and right into the path of the oncoming car.

I faintly hear his scream over our engines get cut off as he disappears from my side in a blur with a loud crash sounding from it that makes me wince.

Catching my breath in the few moments of no one trying to kill, during which two more cars whizz past me and I get my first look at the roundabout that's apparently sending us back. Looks like they blocked all other roads intersecting it with a crowd packed together in the central island cheer as another car whips out into the street.

I'm nearly bumper to bumper with the next car when we hit it and both of us execute our drifts around the crowd. I keep my sole focus on my car as I drift, squeezing beside him into a wider turn and a quick glance to my rear showing that I'm just barely keeping myself from smashing into the barriers surrounding us.

My opponent ends his drift first but taking the wider turn lets me keep more speed, so when I do exit the circle, it takes mere moments for me to swerve past him.

He doesn't take it with good grace as I hear him let loose bursts bullets at me, thankfully nearly all of them miss bar a few that hit the armor on my car. That is until I take a glance at my rear screen and scowl when I see that it's switched cameras, meaning that my first got taken out which is a pain in the ass as this one's in a weird position, making it harder to see anything but in a more safer location.

Swerving around the crash I caused, and I blanch slightly when I catch a glance into the cabin of the driver I fought and see a lot of red covering the glass. I force down the slight disgust I feel to deal with later when a ton of eddies aren't on the line.

Unable to get a big enough gap between me and the guy I passed, I'm forced to keep blocking him whenever he takes a chance to pass me, but with him sticking to my slipstream he's able to keep up as I pass by another car that doesn't decide to fight against both of us. At least he gave up shooting at me given the futility of it.

I keep this up until we hit the corner again, forcing my car to push through as fast as it can without spinning out right before I hear a loud bang, making me jerk the wheel slightly in surprise before I take a quick look back from where it came from and start laughing. The guy decided to keep following me even in the turn and it looks like his car couldn't handle it as well as mine, ending up with him flipping over the barrier.

I grin with the breathing room I get, feeling it widen when I see the last four still ahead of me though for some reason they seem… relaxed? They don't really look like they're fighting for each other's position as they don't seem to be shooting or attempting to pass each other.

Pushing my curiosity away for now, I read as much as I can off both cars I need to pass, trying to figure out the best approach, but I still have a gut feeling that what I'm seeing isn't all there is to it.

That feeling intensifies once I pull close enough to fourth, his slipstream helping my car in closing the gap to the point that I'm about to pass by him when he suddenly brakes. My eyes widen in surprise when he does, my knuckles whitening from my grip as I desperately slam on the brakes and brace for the inevitable impact, one that doesn't happen as he just as quickly accelerates.

It takes a second for me to push through the panic before I have enough sense to try and follow behind him, though that singular second was enough for him to gain a massive lead on me.

I clench my jaw as I try to make up the distance between us while my mind whirls, that move doesn't make any sense! It forced me back but at the same time he lost a lot of ground against third, something that basically ended his chances of winning this race!

Scowling, it's not until we're nearly at the last corner before I get a chance to pass fourth again. Warily closing in on him, I feel the world slow down as I put my sole focus on him, the sound of my engine fading away, the jerks of my wheel as I race down the road numbing. The millisecond I see his brake lights come on, I jerk the wheel to the side and I watch in slow motion as he screeches past me, and somehow I'm able to watch as the surprise paint itself across his face as I pass by him before he disappears behind me.

I grin as I take advantage of the space and catch up to my goal. Taking the corner is simple enough, and it looks like he's not as good as taking them as me as I can see the distance close between us quickly and I'm able to pass him before he even notices I'm there.

Starting with a small giggle, I slowly devolve into a laugh and slowly relax in my seat. Hitting third like I needed was the best possible thing I could do, and although I'm tempted to go for second and maybe even first, I know that this is already taking a step too far into the spotlight than I need, this is enough. It has to be enough for me.

Bang

My heart sinks when I hear a soft stutter from the engine, which devolves into coughs and before I can do anything my car starts shuddering, the power I've been feeling from the engine throughout the race slowly starts to wane and panic grips me when lights start flashing on my previously dark dashboard.

"No, no no!" I shout futilely, slamming my hands on the wheel as I keep slowing down, letting the man I just passed easily slip by me.

I can feel knots in my stomach, ones of frustration as I try to rev the engine, try to jumpstart it again and when I hear its roar of defiance, I can quite literally feel tears of joy at the corner of my eyes when my car lurches to accelerate.

"C'mon c'mon push it," I mutter under my breath as I slowly gain back speed, one that increases to the point he starts blocking me again once I catch his slipstream.

I try to fake him out but to my growing ire he's able to read me like a book and not take the bait, and at the same time he starts slow down. As my speedometer slowly starts to drop, he immediately jumps up on my shitlist as I see the glare from who was previously fourth shine on my rear camera.

Hitting a moment of clarity, I finally piece together what's happening after so many blatant attempts, their working together to keep me out of third place. And given that neither seem to care about going for an even higher position, the top two might even in on it as well. Why the hell would the Riffers let something like this happen!? It's quite literally the definition of rigging a race!

Screw this.

I try one last fake out and when it unsurprisingly doesn't work, I don't stop. I jerk in my seat as I slam right into the back of his car, with mine holding up much better than his as his bumper crumples. With a sharp grin I give us some space before hitting the gas again and slam once more into him, this doing much more damage as my front digs into his trunk and crushes it like a tin can.

The force of my slam is enough for him to lose control. I take advantage of him struggling to bring his weaving car back under control to finally pull up beside him.

I reach down to my waistband as my window lowers, locking eyes to the pissed off face of my competitor as we both push our cars to their limit to the finish line just a few hundred meters away. I decide to cut our competition short and pull out my old Unity and point it straight to the man's head across the short distance between our cars.

Although he has a mono-eye, I know he's panicking when he slams on his brakes and desperately evades -bang- my shot, one that goes far off even if he kept pace, but it's the action that counts.

Taking in a shuddering a breath, I pull my arm back and stuff the old gun back into place after flipping the safety on, it went off once and I'm forever thankful it didn't take a piece of my ass when it did and I'll never disregard gun safety. It takes mere seconds before I'm crossing the finish, right back to where I started to the cheers of the crowd as they run towards the winner.

Slowing down, I come to a stop further away from the racers as they come barreling in and slump into my seat. As the adrenaline fades from my veins, I can feel the pressure I put on my body from just a ten-minute race with my muscles aching and arms violently protesting any movement, guess that's what happens when you've never worked out and decide to go into a race like this.

Dragging my sleeve to wipe the sweat from my face, I give myself a few moments to relax as I feel my heart start filling with pride and a smile stretching higher on my face before I get interrupted by knocks on my window.

I flinch in surprise at that, but looking out I can see Marv with a smile on his face as wide as mine with Leon and Ashely standing near, the latter vibrating in excitement as she keeps banging on my window and yelling for me to get out. I don't intend to keep them waiting.

---

Realized I didn't give any description of our main man so I just sneaked in one here.

 

[SuperHeavy]

You won, now you just have to avoid the rest of the competitors icing you after the fact for your winnings.

 

[GnRenz]

Seems good so far, honestly I think I saw this before but I just scrolled through it, some advice maybe it will help you pick more readers, fix up your tags and title, for the title maybe add a (OC-Insert) to better grab people attention also remove the Self-Insert tag because from what I've seen so far there ain't any self insert in your story (from chapter 1 you made it clear that your OC is not you, have no memories of a life in another earth, or any sort of meta knowledge hence putting self-insert), also put in the cyberpunk 2077 tag and not just cyberpunk, since the cyberpunk 2077 tag is the more general tag being used for the cyberpunk fics on the site

aside from that writing wise its good, I'm no mechanic so I don't have much of an opinion about the car modification stuff but it reads believable so to me so I guess that means it good enough for laymans

 

[Darkstep]

Seems good so far, honestly I think I saw this before but I just scrolled through it, some advice maybe it will help you pick more readers, fix up your tags and title, for the title maybe add a (OC-Insert) to better grab people attention also remove the Self-Insert tag because from what I've seen so far there ain't any self insert in your story (from chapter 1 you made it clear that your OC is not you, have no memories of a life in another earth, or any sort of meta knowledge hence putting self-insert), also put in the cyberpunk 2077 tag and not just cyberpunk, since the cyberpunk 2077 tag is the more general tag being used for the cyberpunk fics on the site

aside from that writing wise its good, I'm no mechanic so I don't have much of an opinion about the car modification stuff but it reads believable so to me so I guess that means it good enough for laymans

Click to shrink...

Those suggestions sound great and I'll add them in so thanks! And I'm no mechanic either but if it sounds like its believable then that means my research wasn't in vain

 

[Darkstep]

Knock knock

"Mmh, five more minutes," I groan out, face down in the softest pillow known to man.

The annoying knocking goes away for a few peaceful moments, letting me relax back into dreamland, right before the shutter to my bed opens and lets in blinding light that I groan at.

"Wakey wakey Drake," a familiar voice speaks up, but I just try to bury myself deeper into my blanket to cut off the burning light, "Fine then, since you don't want it I'll just eat your share of breakfast."

I've never woken up so fast in my life, twisting out of my blanket and bodying Dad out the way I sit myself down on the dinner table in a blink of the eye.

"Looks like you need to build some more muscle Brandon, can't have your son bullying you like that," Mom says with a giggle as she steps over her husband groaning on the ground and places plates of eggs, jerky and toast for all of us, at least their cheapest equivalents.

I salivate at the breakfast we only get to splurge on every few months, but I yelp from the slap I get on my hand when I reach down for the food.

Turning to Mom, I plaster on the best puppy-eyes I can get out but all I get is a raised eyebrow for my efforts, "You knocked him down, now you have to wait for him to drag himself up."

"Oh I think I pulled a muscle! My old, poor body can't handle the pain!" The man wails from the ground as he slowly stumbles to his feet, the pain he's trying to convince of us utterly failing given the shit-eating grin on his face that I scowl at.

I stare petulantly at him with my arms crossed as he stumbles around the table, purposely taking his sweet time which Mom notices and starts giggling when she glances at me. I only dig in when Mom gives a nod when he sits down, less I get another slap for my troubles.

We eat in silence for a bit, savouring the realest food we can afford before Dad speaks up.

"So how've you been Drake? Didn't get a chance to ask but whenever we called you sounded busy, and you usually come back from work before us, but we haven't seen you all week," he asks with a leading tone.

I swallow the piece of jerky I snapped off before answering with some trepidation, "Yeah, about that, I may have gotten fired from work?" I wince when both of their heads snap to look at me.

It takes a few seconds before they finally react, "Wait what!? How?" Mom questions, some panic in her tone.

I knew in the beginning that the news would be bad. The debt my parents took to pay off the procedures I needed as an infant was heavy, it's only after all these years of never missing a payment that we're close enough to pay it off fully. But that was only because I started working, before that my parents were barely living with most of their paycheck going into payments so going back to that would be horrible for us.

I give the short story about what happened at work, my manager getting himself killed and our subsequent firing for robots.

"Ok, ok… not to worry, we- we just need to get you another job," Dad slowly lets out, breakfast forgotten as he tries to keep calm, but I know that he's rapidly thinking of a solution.

"We could talk to them, try and get an extension? We've never missed a payment on the loan, that has to mean something."

"No, they don't care, they'll just waste our time and find a way to add onto it. Larua, didn't Elizabeth say her cousin's factory was understaffed a few months ago? Do you think you can talk to her and-"

"I already got a job!" I cut off their rapid conversation with a yell.

Both stare at me for a moment before releasing a breath of relief and slump in their seats.

"Good god Drake, you couldn't say that earlier!?" Mom lightly scolds.

"Don't worry Laura, we just jumped the gun and assumed the worst," Dad waves her off with a relieved laugh, "So where did start working then son?"

I plaster a wobbly smile on my face, something that Mom notices given she narrows her eyes at me, "So its not really something that gives me a… regular paycheck per se," I quickly spit my next words out before Mom can cut in, and given Dad lowers his coffee mug he won't be interfering this time, "But it pays really well! Look, this is what I got after a weeks work!"

Pushing away from the table, I dive to my bed and grab the envelope I hid and hand it over to Dad. Though looking a little suspicious, he dumps the cash onto the table and I feel a little smug when his brows shoot to his hairline and Mom's jaw dropping in the corner of my eye as they both stare at the stack of eddies.

"Wha- how?" She whispers out as Dad grabs the stack and flips through them; disbelief still plastered on his face.

"Like I said, it's not as constant but how much I make is worth the wait, and that's not even all of it, I had to take half of it out so I could… do some things that'll help with work."

"But this is 300 eddies, what- where are you working that gives you 600 eddies in a week!? That's nearly as much as I make with overtime!" Dad asks with some wonder and concern. To be fair I didn't make 600 off of just getting third, a lot of that came from Marv's bet, both of us making a killing even with him wanting me to have the lion's share of it.

"Its just… some gigs I do around y'know? Marv knows some people that need some stuff done and he got me some work with them."

I know that neither of them believe me, I studiously ignore Mom's glare and focus on Dad who stares at me for a minute, something working itself out in his head.

"Drake," he slowly gets out, "Are these… gigs you're doing dangerous? Because you don't need to go that far, we took that loan so you could live, neither of us want you to die so soon," he softly asks with a healthy amount of concern in his tone.

I take a moment before answering, "Not any more dangerous than living in this city is."

He stares into my eyes, trying to see if I'm lying. I'm not. This city really is that dangerous, hell we're actually on the safer end compared to most cities, and apparently seeing the truth, he gives a slow nod. I feel Mom's hand slide over mine, her hand calloused after so many years working on the oil field and she gives it a squeeze, her face though is firm.

"Never put eddies above you alright? We did this all for you, you're our life, don't throw it all away for something that we can easily deal with, you understand?"

I squeeze her hand in response with a small smile, something that gets a smile out of her as well before she stands up, "I'm going to bake something to celebrate this!" She says jubilantly as she steps around the table, giving me a kiss on the cheek before heading over to the kitchen.

Dad runs his hand over his hair with a sad sigh, "Listen to your mother okay? She's right, like always," he ends with a grin that I match.

"I want cookies!" He suddenly yells out as he stands, toppling over his chair and rushes to follow Mom, surprising her given her yelp and the smack I hear, along with the wail of pain from Dad.

Grinning, I stand to follow them. Although I don't see them much, they always care about me, I'm not going to make their sacrifices for me in vain.

--

"Uh oh," I stare at the soot covered spark plug I pulled from the engine and sigh, tossing it into the trash to the side before diving back down to get the other three out.

Thankfully the plugs seem to be the only thing that caused the near catastrophic misfire during the race, a quick look through the engine when I came into Pietro's showed everything being really worn and close to replacement, but I can hold off on these more expensive and time-consuming replacements when I get more eddies to spare.

Tossing the last one out, I take a quick look at Marv working on the brake pads low to the ground, he's a quick learner and only needed me to show him how to replace a pad once before he went at it. I'll need to double check just to make sure, but it looks like he's taking his time doing it and it looks good, so I leave it to him and the music he's blasting through some earbuds.

Dodging around Pietro's brothers milling around the garage, I head on over to his 'office', a corner of the shop that he took over to act as the manager/sales rep. Apparently he's not a mechanic like the rest of his siblings because, and quoting this from one of his brothers, 'he's a leadhead with all his brain cells put towards running that mouth of his.'

"Ah Drake my friend!" He welcomes with a smile when he notices me, "Need some parts from your dear choom Pietro? Or do you finally accept my offer of taking that rust-bucket off your hands and give you a proper ride?"

I give him a deadpan stare for his latter bit. Somehow he had gotten word that I was the driver that got third in the race two days ago, and since then he's been trying to take my car out of my hands for a more 'street-race worthy' ride. It might've worked but what he was offering me was a pittance for my ride and I'd have to pay thousands more eddies still for his 'discounted' ride. Though that Quartz was damn fine, one of the best frames to mod around.

"Still not for sale Pietro," I droll out, "but I do need some parts, four new spark plugs for a 240T," I emphasize on the 'new' bit, knowing how he gets most of his parts.

"Oh? Found your misfiring problem did you? Good on you, and yes just as you demand I do indeed have new plugs for you," he rolls his char over to a door leading further back and disappears through it.

Leaning against his desk I idly glance at his computer screen as I wait and immediately turn away in slight disgust, who the hell watches that many X-vids at the same time? And at work with their siblings around to boot!

"Here we go!" I hear him exclaim through the door along with a rather loud crash with it.

Kicking the door open with bang, he carries the boxes through and drops them on the desk, "Four brand spanking new iridium spark plugs for you my dear choom, much more durable than others in the market and it'll handle anything you throw at it for a long, long time. That'll be a hundred and fifty eddies."

My eyes narrow at him as he grins at me unrepentantly, "I could just walk over to the NeonPulse a block away and get it there for its actual price you know?"

His face immediately twists in anger as he slams his palms onto the table, "No! Never go to those corpo asslicking bastards! I'll eat my own arm off and dive into the sewer before I ever send someone to those putos!"

I stay quiet and make sure to keep my grin hidden as he rants on and on about their competition, and to be fair to Pietro, everything he's saying about them is true and I'll never step in there if I want to keep any of my eddies… but I don't need to let him know that.

"-and I'll flatline his cat next time it decides to sleep on my car!" He huffs out before needing to take a second to get his breath back.

"Sooo… 80 sounds good?" I speak up after wiping off some of the spit he spat out during his rant.

I get a glare in response to my offer, but I grin as he reluctantly nods in agreement. Gleefully slapping down the bills I scoop up the boxes and toddle away… and turn right back around when I remember something.

"Say… mind if I saw a spoiler off one of the rust buckets you got out back?"

---

Due to prices being weird in 2077 so I'm basing things off RED and my assumptions though exact amounts won't be too important other than frames of reference. Materials are more expensive due to all the wars, corps, etc… along with an eddie being about double a US dollar so that leads to everything being much more expensive with lower wages.

 

[chiefnewo]

Looking good so far! Enjoying this!

 

[Cyrus2]

Racing in Cyberpunk sounds all kinds of awesome.

 

[Darkstep]

"I gotta say this one last time for my sake. Please for the love of god, don't test the car on the highway," I roll my eyes, something Marv can't see considering he's on speaker from my agent held safely in its stand, as I cut off a car with a drift and merge onto the highway.

"Well too bad 'cause I'm already there," I say cheerfully, ignoring the bullet ricocheting off my armor as I start pushing the car to its limit, which unfortunately seems like it's going to be only a bit above 160 though that's a win compared to its shitty stock speed.

"Choom! You know that the Rangers don't play on the highway, they're gonna bust you like nobody's business in a minute flat if you stay on it," he says with distress, something unneeded because I'm not going to get caught, something I say to him as well.

"What's even the point of doing this!?" He yells as I weave between traffic heading deeper into the suburbs, passing over houses and apartment buildings resided by low-level workers, so y'know, not the best.

I take a moment to ponder on that, "Because it's fun," I say with a grin, one that stretches when I hear Marv groan over the line as I speed pass a slow truck.

"Just need to make sure the engine won't give on me if I ever try to hit its top speed, better to do it here than in a race. And you don't need to worry about the Rangers, got fake plates and a mask from Pietro, they won't dig deeper for me once I'm off the highway. They aim for corpo brats that have the eddies to pay them off, worst they'll do is scratch my paint before I lose 'em."

Whoop whoop

"Welp, speak of the devil, I'll call you once I'm off the highway Marv," I drop the call before he responds and grin as I look at my camera at the far-off flashing light slowly getting closer as I get on the bridge over the contaminated river cutting the city in half.

Looking ahead, I can see the exit I need approaching… across about five lanes of heavy traffic.

"Well, that was bad planning on my end," I comment to myself and whip the wheel.

Cutting through two lanes I quickly stop my cut when an SUV decides to hit the brakes and block me off. I give a glare at the middle-aged man I catch a glimpse of before I speed off. It takes me a few seconds to gain speed, all that's needed for the Ranger to catch up enough that I can start making out his plates.

Say what you want about how ugly and bulky their rides are, but when you see an armored bumper half as tall as your car heading straight for you at over 140 miles per hour… it's pretty darn intimidating for anyone it's trying to ram into.

Slipping between two semi's, I weave right in front of one and cross another two lanes, right where I need to be as I see the exit only a few hundred meters away, but apparently the Ranger doesn't want to let me go yet as I hear rather than see him cut across four lanes of traffic given the screeching of tires and metal scraping.

Taking a glance at my back mirror, I feel a sweat drop when I see him slowly getting closer, but thankfully I hit the ramp leading down under the highway in time and immediately turn into a drift, laughing as I curve around the road and leave the Ranger in my vaporized rubber dust.

It's a simple task to run the red light and merge into the city's traffic, me being long gone before he even gets down onto the street. Smile plastered on my face I decide to calm down a bit and slow myself to 'legal' speed and take in the city.

Downtown Austin is in significantly better condition than the suburbs across the river, at least on the outside. I'd like to say that Austin isn't much different than other cities, going off Net pics at least, but what makes it different is how utterly massive the buildings are. Where normal ones take up only a portion of a city block, something classified as a skyscraper here needs to occupy at minimum a city block. More respectable corps though occupy multiple with only Texan Holdings, the corp of the Republic, occupying basically four mega-buildings worth of space right in front of the green covered capital building. Everything here has to be big, well unless you're a low-level employee, then you get apartments even smaller than mine shadowed by the highway crossing over the city and the bridges connecting all the buildings above you, those only corpo's use because they can afford the toll.

The rest of us gotta go through the broken-down streets down under where people shove through the crowd to get to where they want to go with the streets not being much better what with traffic built up at every corner, something that annoys me to hell when I get stuck behind a mini-cooper.

Honk honk

I flip the bird at the car honking behind me as I press on my own horn which obviously doesn't help but I like to feel included with everyone else doing the same.

Bang bang bang

I duck down beneath the dash at the sound of shots going off up ahead before I hear tires screech against the pavement. I peek my head out just in time to catch the car ahead of me try to pull to the side, well as much as they can given the bare amount of space between all of us and I decide to follow their lead, just in time for a muscle car with a drugged up chrome-head sticking out the window waving a AR around to come barging down the space left open.

They bash any cars still in their way aside as they escape the scene of the apparent drive-by, unfortunately they decide I'm in their way when I feel them bang into the back corner of my car and I brace myself as my wheels skid across the pavement a bit.

I look in my side mirror with some dread and just stare at the crumpled metal and plastic that I see.

"Motherfu-!"

--

"-cker!" I yell as I slam into the railing and strain my neck to keep my gaze straight and try to straighten out my car from that sideswipe.

Glaring to the side, I receive one in turn from the asshole fighting me for fourth, the very same from my last race. Seeing his arm jerk to the side, I immediately press on the brakes and vacate my spot, just in time for him to swing into it and slam into the railing instead.

Taking the chance I floor it and gain the distance I lost and easily slip past him as he tries to not weave around the straight stretch of road from the recoil.

Finally free from the idiot that was blocking me, it doesn't take much to out-drift third place at the last turn of the race and gain enough of a lead that I can read the plates of second long before we reach the finish. But I don't pass him, letting off on the gas and cruise at my current speed and take the chance to relax.

Asshole behind me doesn't even get a chance to smell my exhaust before we cross the finish line to the cheers of the crowd.

Turning off to the side, I let the crowd part around me as they head for the winner and instead park a bit away from the rest and get out for a bit of fresh air. Taking a deep breath I lean against my hood as I watch over everyone either hyping up the winner or bothering the bookie for their winnings, a place where Marv is probably at getting our winnings.

Roaming my eyes around they land on a group of three very familiar cars parked by each other near the winner. Who I'm pretty sure was second looked to be flirting with two of his hanger-ons. The other two have their own admirers hovering around them but they don't seem to be too engrossed as I see them speak heatedly with each other as they look around before catching sight of me and lock a glare on me.

Nervously shuffling I make sure not to show that I noticed them and let my eyes continue wander and let out a little sigh when I catch sight of some Riffers hanging around near me. At least they can't start shit without them interfering, well if they stay there until Marv gets off his ass and books it over here.

As I think that I catch sight of him slipping through the crowd and… actually booking it to me? I brace my feet and rest a hand on my waist ready to pull my iron when I look behind him, thankfully seeing no-one chasing him but it doesn't explain why he looks so out of breath.

"'rake! Ahey needs 'elp!" He gasps out as he runs to me before coming to a stop and bends over to take a deep breathes.

"What? Ashely?" I question with some urgency, barely getting anything out of his garbled words but given his panic, something had to happened.

"She called me after she couldn't get you, Leon got a seizure and is bleeding a lot. They need a ride to the hospital," he gets out as he stumbles to open my door and slump inside.

It takes a second to process that before I'm sliding in as well. With the car already running I slam on the gas as my engine roars, taking a mere moment for the tires to skid for traction before we launch but I quickly spin the wheel around into a 180, barely clipping the crowd that yell in fright as they leap out the way and in the same breath cheer at the burnout I do before we're off. Heading down the straight I take the chance to bring out my agent and wince at the list of missed calls from Ashely, all of them timed near the end of my race but thankfully she sent her address, so I pull it up on maps and punch it.

Weaving through late night traffic I glance at Marv and see him pale and clutching anything in reach in a tight grip as I take drift right through an intersection to the anger at the other drivers, but I don't really care.

"Why didn't she call an ambulance? A seizure with blood isn't something to cheap out on!" I ask him, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the engine.

My question does its job to distract him from my driving, where I won't be mentioning my promise to not drive like this with him in the car, "She- she said she tried! A major crash on the highway forced all the ambulances over there and they don't have any for them for another two hours!"

I swear under my breath at that, the one time they get off their asses this happens. It takes another few minutes to cross from the rundown suburbs to downtown, the divide between the two clear as massive buildings start up from around us as I drive under the bridge towards the skyscraper set aside for the various factory and shipping companies of the city, and naturally for their workers as well.

Leaving my car parked out front, though not without paying the gangoon of some minor gang hanging around the front to watch my car and not have it mysteriously gone by the time I get back, I head up the run-down elevator.

Ignoring Doug Dimmedome blaring from the broken TVs hidden behind bars about some new policy or something I tap my foot nervously as I wait for the floor number to reach the right one, thankfully their apartment is close to the bottom where blue-collars typically live at.

Dodging people hanging around the halls or the small shops built into the walls I step over a drunk man in overalls covered in oil laying in the middle of the path before I see their door.

I get one knock in before Ashely rips open the door and get dragged inside.

"Please- I tried my best but he won't stop shaking!" She says with sobs, her hands covered in blood and I get my first look at Leon.

He looks a far cry from how he looked when I last saw him. Like Ashely said he shakes intermittently though thankfully it doesn't look like it's too bad, what is bad is the slow stream of blood dripping from his nose, one that hasn't stopped given the sheer number of towels and tissues soaked in blood.

"Do you know what happened?" I ask as calm as I can as I kneel down and check him for a pulse, letting out a sigh of relief when I feel it though its worryingly weak.

"He -hick- he said he hit his head at work, but- but he said his manager wouldn't let him go the ripper cause he said it wasn't bad. How isn't this bad! Leon, he- he can't die!" She ends with a sob as I curse in my mind, a head injury is the worst thing you can get.

"Fuck. Ok Marv we're gonna grab his arms, Ashely you grab his legs. We gotta drag him down to my ride now," I order as I go around and loop an arm under his armpit and grab his wrist, Marv following me a moment later as he copies me and Ashely gathers herself enough to grab his legs.

I huff out a breath at the weight, the man being 300 pounds easy is not a weight three barely muscled teens/young adults can carry easily. It's a tight fit but we get out their front door and start carrying his limp body down the hall, everyone giving us plenty space as they step aside, very obviously not looking at the three people dragging a bloody body around which is all the better for us.

It takes quite a bit of effort to get him out the building and down the steps leading to our car. The gangoon I paid raises an eyebrow when he notices Leon but shrugs and goes to ignore us pay attention to the card game he's playing with his chooms.

We shove him carefully into the back seat with his legs folded as far as we can with Ashely to hold his head. Rubbing the bit of blood on my hands on my shirt to get it as dry as I could I floor it as soon as I'm in and head straight for the sole hospital in Dallas. It's expensive but I don't trust any ripper to be able to help with brain damage like this.

Making sure my turns are as soft as I can make them, I otherwise break as many street laws as I can to get to the hospital fast enough. The lack of late-night traffic helps with that so I slide to the emergency wing in record time.

A bit of eddies to get him to the front of the line and he's lying in a bed being carted off.

 

[Darkstep]

"-says when he wakes up, he'll have short-term memory loss at worst so that's good. Doc also said that a few more minutes and it would've been much much worst… so thanks choom, we owe you."

"Don't worry about it, I helped out because you needed it not 'cause I wanted something from you," I say through my agent and roll out from under the engine to throw the wrench back in its bag.

"Well, I feel like I owe you so it doesn't matter what you think," she responds with a huff.

Chuckling, I wipe my hands off the grime picked up from the undercarriage as I try to move on, not really wanting to fight her on that, "How about the cost? Can't imagine fixing anything up in his noggin is cheap," I ask a bit more seriously as I slide inside.

"The company sent a corpo by to talk about it, apparently he wasn't sent to the corps ripperdoc 'cause his manager has been skimming off the equipment budget and was worried someone would find something from the investigation. Would've gotten away with it before Leon decided to get brain damage and make the problem worse," she says wryly.

"Huh, that's weirdly nice for a corp."

"Yeah well, they put a pretty penny into Leon's cyberware so he's worth more than a manager they can promote anyone to fill. They covered the bill along with a nice little bonus to, y'know, keep this on the down low… and never try to sue 'em for it."

"Really? Well where's my corpo then? I want my hush money," I whine at her as I hit the ignition.

My baby whines for a second before sputtering once, twice annnnd, "Sonuava," I mutter under my breath when it dies out again.

"Get a job you deadbeat," she deadpans but giggles right after, "though I don't think it's your speed anymore, keep up what you're doing then you'll be raking it in soon enough."

I hum in agreement and decide to ignore the little engine problem for a bit to absently scroll through the laptop hooked up to my ride and double-check that the ECU is properly registering the new bit of oomph I added to level the playing field a bit while fixing her up. The hit to my account hurt but the scraps from the winnings and the beefy bets Marv's been making have helped evened it out, but it still digs deep. It'll be worth the eddies… it better be worth it.

"I'll let you go now, thanks for letting me talk your ear off, I needed a bit of a distraction after all of this."

"Nah it's fine, what're chooms for."

Saying goodbye, I drop the call and bring up the tuning program to finish up the installation but my agent rings again before I can get into it.

Raising an eyebrow at the private number, I swipe to answer and can't get a word in before the person on the other end speaks up.

"Young'in! Barely a month later and what do I hear from my boys? Top three in only two races!" Lorenzo, because who else could it be, whistles over the line.

"Thanks, put a lot of effort into getting there, you giving me a chance really helped me out," I nervously laugh.

"Yeah yeah you're welcome, now stop kissing my ass and listen. I got something going on that you might wanna get in on seeing as how well you've been doing."

"Oh?" I say with some interest and set my laptop to the side.

"Got a race coming up, mid-level nothing too big but I need entertainment for some chooms that're visiting, and what better way to spend a night than to watch some shmucks get wrecked eh? Well, maybe some time with a joytoy or two. Hmm… never mind, watching dumbasses crash sounds like a way better night."

"I hope you're not saying I'm one of those shmucks?" I ask with some hope.

"Depends on whether you're planning on flaking like you've been doing so far," he says blandly, but his words are enough to make my nerves spike.

"Ah- um, no- no sorry sir, just… didn't want to step on any toes so soon."

"Uh uh," he hums flippantly, "Well you did a shit job at that, should've just won done deal and you wouldn't have had to deal with those shits cockblocking you like they tried last race. And drop that sir shit, you ain't on my shitlist just yet."

"Yes sir- I mean Lorenzo. Wait, if you know about those four then why do you let them team up like they do? Doesn't that fix the races?"

"I don't give two shits about that, they know when to spice the races up and only go for the kiddy winnings, not touching the betting scene as they should, not like my boys would let them," I hear him mumble the end bit, "Anyone that gets cucked by them don't deserve to move up. You really should've won in the first race when they were testing you, now you just look like a kid that's gonna be stuck down with them for a while, not good enough to move on but enough to cut into their winnings."

I wince at the explanation he gives, which looking at it from their point of view, I can see why they would try to screw me over and get me out of their scene. They also can't risk letting me win without a fight to make me move on because without proving my skills, that'll just get Lorenzo's men on their case. I screwed up, something I readily say.

"Eh, try from now on and you'll be good, or you'll crash and burn but that's up to you. Now forget about all that, I'll be picking four of you from the amateurs that I think are good to join in, the rest are coming around from my regulars along with a nomad or two that'll get wind of it, those you'll find won't be weak noodles compared to everyone else."

"Now there's also going to be a very special guest coming along, one of my chooms who wants to play around on the street after a while. No spoilers but if you end up racing you better have something up your sleeve if you want to stand a chance to him," I can already feel butterflies in my stomach from the competition he spelled out to me. But at the same time?

My grin hurts.

"Don't worry," confidence springs up from somewhere deep in my gut, "I'll win."

"Heh, just put on a good damn show young'in," he ends off before dropping the call with a beep.

Ping

Lowering my agent to see the text, my brows shoot up as I see the prizes for the top three, jaw-dropping once I see the massive list of high-end chrome that you get to choose from on top of the eddies. Scrolling through it, I end up needing to search for half the stuff I've never even heard of and make a list of those that seem useful, at least until my thumb lands on the one that speaks out to me, a Dynalar Tinker Titan Mk. IV cyberdeck.

Two generations behind yet still highly sought after by corps, mechanics and engineers everywhere due to its powerful computational capabilities, leading it to have the best simulation program on the market. Able to design, test, tune and measure anything and everything on the spot in highly realistic environments, in reason of course it's still a deck at the end of the day.

That's not all though, the best part, in my opinion, is that it's able to scan anything mechanical, if you have good enough eyes that is, and have exact blueprints made for it with even suggestions to make it better!

Though with so many features, they heavily specialized in what they made it for and so cut a lot of corners. For one you can do very minimal netrunning, only able to run basic ping quickhacks or unlocking doors, anything else and you'd start cooking. I don't know why even though it's able to run realistic simulations no problem but I'm not going to argue against the few 'runners that tried and lived to tell the tale. I don't think I'd ever be able to do the magic that they can do so I'm completely fine with what the deck can offer.

Ignoring the subscription fees for the simulation and scanning programs for the sake of my mind, I scroll through the forum to see what others think about it and see a lot.

Mainly moaning about how they can't afford something that good, or showing off that they were able to grab one even further back than the Mk. IV to the envy of everyone else, which what the hell? Why is Lorenzo putting something this in-demand for a race like this, I thought it was supposed to be mid-level!

I lean back with a sigh as my mind runs through everything that happened in such a small amount of time, and what this race is going to mean for my future. With the prizes being so generous, I know that Lorenzo was understating the difficulty of the race, especially the mystery guest that's going to be racing.

I'll need every advantage I can get in the next few weeks to stand a chance. Standing with a grunt, I go back into the guts of my ride, motivated to make the most of this chance.

 

[Darkstep]

Sorry for the wait, work has been kicking my ass but I'm planning on getting back into it so short chap for now