Act: 2 Chapter: 2 | Running Late!

The Morning Before the Race

The morning air was crisp, and the faint scent of dew hung in the stillness. Collei finished prepping her Eight-Six for the usual delivery runs, her breath misting in the cold garage as she tightened the lugs on the wheels. The scent of fuel and motor oil mixed with the sharp chill of early morning, a familiar comfort. But today, her thoughts were far from the daily grind of deliveries.

They were on the Blackbird.

She clenched her fist around the key, her mind buzzing. A Porsche Turbo. The name echoed through her mind like a ghost of street legends past. The thought of it gnawed at her—no other car had a reputation like that. And now, she had to face it.

She turned, her gaze locking with Arlecchino's, who leaned against the garage door, cigarette in hand. The smoke curled lazily from her lips, and her red eyes pierced the morning haze, watching the world with the same cool, calculating gaze she always wore.

Collei hesitated, a knot in her stomach. She'd been going over this conversation in her mind a thousand times, but now that the moment had arrived, her voice felt tight.

"Hey, Dad."

Arlecchino flicked her eyes toward Collei, barely lifting her head. She exhaled a slow, deliberate stream of smoke.

"Mm?" Her tone was as detached as always, but there was a spark of attention behind her gaze. She was always listening—always watching.

Collei took a deep breath, trying to sound casual. "Have you heard about the Blackbird? Is it really as good as they say?"

Arlecchino's lips curled into a knowing smirk, more of a calculated gesture than a smile. She took another drag, savoring the moment before speaking.

"Yeah, I've heard about it." Her voice dropped a pitch, a hint of admiration beneath the cool detachment. "That machine's a beast. In the right hands, it's got the power to break you."

Collei shifted her weight, her eyes narrowing. "Yeah, but…" She hesitated, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "Could you beat it? On Yougou's downhill?"

Arlecchino finally looked at her, fully focused. The faintest hint of a grin crept across her face. She flicked the cigarette to the ground, grinding it under her heel with a smooth, almost predatory movement.

"Of course. No car out there I can't handle. Blackbird or not."

Collei swallowed, a nervous flutter in her chest. She looked down at her feet, the tension in her fingers betraying her. Finally, after a long pause, she asked the question that had been clawing at her mind.

"What about me?"

The world seemed to pause. Arlecchino's gaze sharpened, her expression unreadable. Collei could almost feel the weight of her father's scrutiny, every detail of her—her car, her skills, her hesitation—being measured in the silent space between them.

For a moment, Arlecchino said nothing. Then, with slow deliberation, she leaned in just slightly, her voice low and steady.

"It'd be a close race. I'll give you that."

Collei's heart raced. Was that an answer? A challenge? Her pulse quickened, and she searched her father's face for something—anything—that would tell her what she needed to hear.

A long pause lingered before Arlecchino added, almost casually, "Why the sudden interest?"

Collei froze. The question felt like a trap, a crack in the armor. Her mind raced, scrambling for an excuse. Was her curiosity too obvious? Had she overplayed her hand?

"N-No reason!" Collei quickly waved her hands, too quickly. "Just something my friends at the gas station were talking about!"

She glanced at her watch, an obvious excuse. "Gotta go! Deliveries to make!"

Before Arlecchino could offer any further remark, Collei jumped into the driver's seat, gunning the engine to life. The roar of the Eight-Six's four-cylinder engine echoed through the garage as she slammed the car into first gear, tires screeching as she tore out of the driveway.

Arlecchino watched her go, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn't speak, but her red eyes narrowed slightly as the Eight-Six disappeared into the distance. The scent of her cigarette lingered, the cool morning air now feeling oddly empty.

"Hmm." Arlecchino muttered to herself, flicking the half-burnt cigarette to the ground. "So she's going after that Porsche next, huh?"

Her eyes flicked back to the car's silhouette disappearing up the mountain.

"I'll need to tweak her drift settings… just in case."

The Gathering at Yougou Pass

The wind howled through the mountain pass, biting at the skin of those gathered at the rest stop halfway up Yougou. The air was frigid, and Keqing was visibly uncomfortable, her teeth chattering as she huddled with her arms crossed.

"Dammit! It's freezing! I should've brought my scarf!" She stomped her feet, trying to ward off the chill, but it was a losing battle.

Ningguang, standing next to her, chuckled softly, exhaling a misty breath. "Be patient, Keqing. She'll be here soon enough."

As if on cue, the distant rumble of a four-cylinder engine reverberated through the pass. Beidou's sharp eyes snapped to the road, her grin growing wide.

"She's here!"

Seconds later, headlights cut through the mountain fog, cutting through the darkness like a knife. The unmistakable screech of tires followed, the Eight-Six slowing down as it approached. The car's hazard lights blinked briefly before it pulled over.

Collei climbed out of the car, hugging herself tightly against the cold. Her breath formed a mist in the air as she scowled at her friends, clearly unamused by the conditions.

"What the hell are you guys doing out here? It's freezing!"

Keqing grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the group, her expression all business now.

"We need to talk about the Blackbird," she said, her voice serious.

Collei's brow furrowed. "What about it?"

Ningguang crouched down, drawing a quick diagram in the dirt with a stick. In seconds, she sketched out a basic layout of the drivetrain.

"The Blackbird's got a rear-engine, rear-wheel-drive layout," she began, her voice calm, like she was explaining the basics of a complicated machine. "The engine's in the back, which gives it incredible acceleration, but that layout also has its drawbacks."

She handed the stick to Keqing, who continued the explanation, adding more details.

"We know you've got cornering down to an art," she tapped the rear of the diagram. "But here's the catch—the rear-engine layout is prone to snap oversteer."

Collei blinked, her head tilting slightly. "Snap… oversteer?"

Seele, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, her arms crossed. "It happens when the driver lifts off the throttle too quickly. The weight shifts forward, and that throws the back end out of control. If they correct too harshly…" She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "…they'll spin out."

Collei's eyes widened as the implications hit her. "So… what you're saying is…"

Keqing placed a steady hand on her shoulder, her expression stern. "Disrupt Yelan's rhythm. Pressure her in the corners. Make her second-guess herself. The Blackbird thrives on smooth, quick decisions. Force her to mess up."

Beidou grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Force a mistake. That's how you win."

Collei looked between them, the weight of their words settling in. They weren't just giving her advice—they were staking their belief in her. In this moment, she wasn't just a delivery girl anymore. She was a racer, and they were betting on her to take down the legend.

She took a breath, steadying herself.

"Alright," she said, her voice firm. "I've got it."

She glanced down at her watch—time was running out.

"See you when I see you."

With a quick flick of her wrist, she slammed the Eight-Six into gear, the engine roaring to life. She gave them one last glance, a determined spark in her eyes, and then sped off into the fog. Her taillights vanished, swallowed by the mountain mist.

A long, tense silence followed.

Beidou crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. "She's got a tough road ahead."

Ningguang smiled faintly, a knowing look in her eyes. "But if anyone can handle it… it's her."

That afternoon.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the open garage doors, the faint scent of oil, gasoline, and old rubber lingering in the air. Inside, Beidou and March worked to clean up the cluttered space, shuffling tools and tossing worn-out rags into a bin.

March paused, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her glove. The air was thick—not just with dust, but with unspoken doubts.

She finally broke the silence, her voice quieter than usual.

"Hey, Beidou..."

Beidou looked up from the toolbox she was sorting, noticing the hesitation in March's eyes.

"Are we really gonna race Yelan?"

Beidou exhaled sharply, adjusting her collar, a habit of confidence that now seemed to veil something deeper. "We don't have a choice," she admitted. But as the words left her lips, a shadow of uncertainty flickered across her face. "But… I don't think Collei's fully convinced."

March's gaze dropped to the grease-stained floor, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. "I know Collei, Beidou." Her voice was steady but carried a weight. "She'll never do it."

Beidou frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

March sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "She hates being pushed into things. Hates following orders. Most of the time, she's chill—laid-back, even. But once she sets her sights on something?" She shook her head, her expression hardening. "There's no turning back."

Beidou's thoughts lingered on March's words, her mind racing. Before she could respond, a soft laugh broke through the tension.

Unbeknownst to them, Lyney stood just outside the garage, leaning casually against the wall. The conversation had caught his attention the moment Collei's name was mentioned. His sharp violet eyes glinted with intrigue, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Heh." He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for himself. "Stubborn. Just like Arlecchino…"

Inside, March shifted her stance, deciding whether to continue. Finally, her voice dropped lower, like she was sharing a secret that needed to be said.

"There's something you don't know about her, Beidou."

Beidou arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

March hesitated, her eyes flickering with a memory. Then she spoke.

"Back in tenth grade, after chemistry class… she nearly put some senior in the hospital."

Beidou blinked, surprised. "What?"

March nodded, her expression grim, a hint of wariness in her eyes. "Guy kept pushing her to do something she didn't want to do. Wouldn't back off. Next thing we knew, she snapped. Broke his nose, knocked him out cold. He had to be rushed to the ER."

Beidou staggered back slightly, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "No way." She shook her head in disbelief. "That doesn't sound like Collei at all."

March gave her a knowing look. "That's 'cause you've never seen her cornered."

Lyney's smirk faded slightly as he listened from the shadows, his curiosity piqued even further. This was more than just a race. It was a test of something far deeper.

Pushing off the wall, he turned silently and walked away, disappearing into the afternoon haze. His mind was already working, piecing together what this meant.

So Collei isn't just some soft-spoken racer.

She was a ticking time bomb.

The Warning

Night had settled over the city, neon signs flickering in the distance as Collei finished up her shift at the gas station. The pumps were locked, the register double-checked, and the cold night air felt sharp against her skin as she turned to leave.

Just as she reached for the door handle, Lyney's voice stopped her.

"Hey, Collei."

She turned to see him seated behind his desk, a cigarette in hand, his violet eyes sharp and unreadable. He gestured to the seat across from him.

"Take a minute. Sit down."

Collei hesitated but eventually obliged, lowering herself into the chair. The office was dimly lit, cluttered with papers and old racing memorabilia, the faint scent of tobacco and oil lingering in the air. A reminder of a world far beyond the gas station, a world of street races, adrenaline, and hidden dangers.

Lyney exhaled a slow stream of smoke before speaking.

"I heard from the girls that you're heading up to Yougou tonight to race the Blackbird."

Collei's fingers curled instinctively around the edge of the seat. "Y-Yeah, I was—"

"Don't."

His voice sliced through the room, cool and unwavering.

Collei blinked. "What?"

Lyney leaned forward, his expression serious, as if he had just become the bearer of an inevitable truth.

"Don't race her."

Collei swallowed hard, the words heavy with something more than just concern. There was an edge to his voice that sent a chill down her spine.

She tried to shake off the weight in the air. "Why? You scared I'll lose?"

Lyney sighed, stubbing out his cigarette with deliberate force, the sound of it like a finality.

"No. I'm saying you don't know what you're dealing with." He paused, then smirked slightly. "Let me guess—March ran her mouth, and now you're tangled up in this mess."

Collei scratched the back of her head, looking away, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips. "...Maybe."

Lyney chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "Figures."

But then, his tone darkened, and the playful edge slipped away.

"Look, kid. It's time to let your friends deal with their own problems. I know you—you're stubborn. But listen to me when I say this: Do. Not. Race. That. Blackbird."

A tense silence filled the room. Collei sat still, processing his words. Then, finally, she spoke.

"Is the Blackbird really that good?"

Her voice was steady, but Lyney caught the flicker in her eyes—the spark of challenge, the hint of defiance.

Lyney leaned back in his chair, studying her with renewed interest. Then he smirked, knowing full well that he had struck a nerve.

"Good?" he echoed, tilting his head. "That car's a legend."

He exhaled a breath, watching her closely as her grip on the chair tightened just a fraction.

"It belonged to a doctor—Natasha. She ruled the Wangan back in the day, battling against her longtime rival." He glanced at her, waiting for a reaction. "You ever hear of the Devil Z?"

Collei's brows furrowed. "The Midnight Blue S30Z?"

Lyney nodded, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

"That was her rival's car." His fingers tapped lightly against the desk. "The Blackbird is a 930 Turbo, packing a twin-turbo flat-six with a lightweight carbon-fiber body. It's built to dominate the expressways, but don't be fooled—it can handle the Touge just fine."

He watched her carefully, waiting for the moment she hesitated.

She didn't.

Instead, Collei stood up, adjusting her jacket as if she had made her decision long before entering the office.

"Boss, I appreciate the warning." Her voice was firm, unwavering. "But after hearing about this car, I don't care about fame, street cred, or anything else."

She turned toward the door, the night air calling her.

"I just want to see what it can do for myself."

And with that, she was gone.

Determined. Set. Unstoppable.

Lyney remained seated, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment before he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"Tch. Thought that little talk would work." He let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

Then, quieter, as if speaking to himself—

"She's exactly like her father…"

The night was supposed to be simple.

Collei would get home, grab the Eight-Six, and head straight for Mt. Yougou. The race was waiting. The crowd was waiting. Yelan was waiting.

Instead, as she reached the front door, something felt wrong.

Then she saw it—a single note, taped to the door.

The handwriting was rough, almost careless.

"Temporarily Closed."

Collei stared at the words, reading them again and again, as if doing so would change their meaning.

"Temporarily closed? Dad never mentioned anything about this…"

She scratched her head in confusion.

"How is she gonna earn money when the shop's closed?"

Her stomach twisted. This wasn't normal. This wasn't part of the plan.

And then, the realization hit her like a gut punch.

"Oh no. The car!"

She took off toward the driveway, her breath sharp and uneven. Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she skidded to a stop.

The driveway was empty.

The Eight-Six was gone.

"No… No, no, no!"

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her mind raced, trying to piece together any explanation.

If Arlecchino had taken it for a spin, fine. But if she had gone drinking with her friends—

She clenched her fists.

"I'm screwed. I am so unbelievably screwed."

Her breath came faster. She ran both hands through her hair, gripping it tightly, tugging at the strands as if that would stop the rising panic in her chest.

"What am I gonna do now?!"

She paced in circles, muttering under her breath. The cold night air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed.

Then, without thinking, she turned on her heel and sprinted back inside. She grabbed the phone and started dialing, calling every bar in town.

One after another.

Every number. Every possible place.

Nothing.

She slammed the phone down, her vision blurring at the edges with frustration.

"It's useless. I'm never gonna find that idiot!"

Her voice cracked, her frustration spilling over. She stormed outside, fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

The night was still. The street was empty.

Collei lifted her head, and with everything left in her, she screamed.

"Damnit, where the hell are you?!"

Her voice echoed down the street, swallowed by the darkness.

She clenched her jaw, shaking with frustration, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

"Bring me back my Eight-Six!"

But the silence was her only answer.

The night air grew heavier at Mt. Yougou, the cold sinking deep into the bones of the waiting crowd. Murmurs bubbled through the spectators, their voices a growing buzz as restlessness spread like wildfire. It was a palpable tension, the kind that clung to the skin, the kind that made every second feel stretched, waiting.

Where was Collei?

Yelan leaned effortlessly against the Blackbird, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the winding road below. She wasn't the type to get easily impatient, her cool exterior unshakable. If Collei didn't show, well, it would only confirm what Yelan had already suspected: no one in Inazuma was a real challenge to her, at least not yet.

Ningguang stood to the side, her silhouette bathed in the dim light of the distant streetlamps. She exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the amber glow of her cigarette flicking in the breeze. Her face was unreadable, but there was a certain sharpness to her gaze as she watched the road, waiting for some sign of life.

"Think she'll show up?" she asked, her voice low, almost drowned by the growing tension of the crowd.

Keqing stood beside her, leaning back against the car, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She took a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes scanning the road.

"She'll be here. No question." Keqing's voice was sure, confident. "When we saw her last night... she had that look. That fire." She tapped the side of her temple. "Trust me. She's coming. Just fashionably late."

Collei's House – 9:30 PM

Collei sat on the worn-out couch, staring at the cracked ceiling, her thoughts scattered like pieces of broken glass. Her knee bounced restlessly, the energy inside her building with every passing second. It was like there was something pulling at her chest, an invisible force demanding her attention.

Something wasn't right.

The longer she stayed there, the heavier the air felt, suffocating her with a growing unease that settled in her bones.

She sat up suddenly, feeling like she couldn't breathe. "What the hell is going on? It's like I'm drowning here..." Her voice barely a whisper as she stood and paced the room, the old floorboards creaking under her feet. "Why am I so tense?"

The answer struck her like a thunderclap.

Mt. Yougou.

It was calling to her.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

She'd driven that course for five and a half years, rain or shine. It had become a part of her, ingrained into her very soul. But tonight... tonight, she could feel it—like there was more out there, something just beyond her reach. Something she hadn't yet discovered.

Then, suddenly, a sound.

A low, guttural roar shattered the stillness of the quiet neighborhood.

Twin-turbo inline-six. The unmistakable growl of a machine that lived and breathed on the edge of control.

Collei's breath caught in her throat. She spun on her heels and bolted for the door. Her heart raced as she fumbled with the lock, her fingers too frantic to get it open fast enough.

The roar grew louder, a snarling beast on the prowl. Then the screech of tires as Seele's Devil Z came to a stop in front of the house, the engine growling in frustration before falling into silence.

The door slammed open just in time for Beidou to jump out, her boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Seele was right behind her, both rushing toward Collei with urgency in their steps.

"Thank god you're home!" Beidou's voice was ragged, her breath short but full of determination. "We need to talk!"

A Desperate Plan

After hearing the situation, Beidou threw up her hands in disbelief.

"You can't be serious! Your dad took the car, you don't know where she is, and you have no clue when she'll be back?!"

Collei nodded, rubbing the back of her head in frustration, her gaze downward. Seele clenched her fists in mounting irritation.

"We're screwed," she muttered, her tone tight with frustration. "If the Eight-Six isn't here, there's no point in heading back to Yougou."

Beidou stomped her foot, her anger boiling over.

"Why tonight of all nights?!"

Collei exhaled slowly, letting the tension out, before meeting their eyes.

"Let me guess. You came here to convince me to race, didn't you?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Beidou and Seele exchanged a brief, sheepish glance, before nodding in unison.

Seele spoke first, her voice laced with urgency. "The course is packed. Even the Rotary Duo—Keqing and Ningguang—are there just to watch."

Beidou quickly added, her voice half-joking but full of sincerity, "You're the star attraction, Collei. Everyone's wondering where you are!"

Collei's cheeks flushed slightly, a faint blush coloring her face, but she quickly shook her head, pushing the flattery aside.

"I wish I could be up there. But without a car, I'm stranded."

Then, Beidou snapped her fingers, a light of realization sparking in her eyes.

"What if you take Seele's Devil Z?"

Collei blinked, confusion crossing her face.

"Devil… Z?"

Seele nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable.

"This is my S30Z. It's the car that raced against the Blackbird before, back on the Bayshore Wangan. Powerful, agile—hell, it's just like the FD you took on last time."

Collei hesitated, a cloud of doubt hanging over her decision.

"I can't do that. It's your car. If I'm racing the Blackbird, it has to be in something I know—even with my eyes shut."

Before they could argue further, a sound split the tension.

A sharp, aggressive growl pierced the silence, cutting through the air like a blade.

An inline-four engine.

But not just any four-cylinder.

Collei's heart leapt into her throat, her pulse quickening. She recognized that sound.

Then—a double-blip of the throttle.

Her eyes widened in realization.

"That's her. That's the Eight-Six!"

Seele crossed her arms, skeptical, a frown forming as she raised an eyebrow.

"That could be any four-cylinder car, Collei."

Collei shook her head vehemently, her eyes fixed on the street.

"No. Trust me. I know that sound. She always gives the gas a double pump after downshifting."

The distinct roar of the engine drew closer, and Collei's chest tightened as she heard the unmistakable rumble of the Eight-Six's twin-cam engine, unmistakable and familiar.

At Mt. Yougou

Back at the summit, Ningguang flicked her cigarette away, her gaze fixed on the winding road ahead. The anticipation in the air was thick, the tension rising as the spectators murmured amongst themselves.

"Think she'll show up?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Keqing took another drag, exhaling with a smirk.

"She'll be here. No question."

Moments later, Collei was back in the driver's seat of the Eight-Six, the familiar rumble of the engine vibrating through her hands. The world around her seemed to fall away as she steadied herself, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. The night air, thick with the scent of gasoline and anticipation, wrapped around her like a shroud. Every nerve in her body was alight, her fingers gripping the worn steering wheel as if it were an extension of her own soul.

Arlecchino stood nearby, arms crossed, her unreadable expression illuminated by the dim glow of a streetlamp. The harsh light cast long shadows across her face, but Collei could still catch the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Sorry for borrowing the car this late, Dad. I owe you big time," Collei said, flashing a quick apologetic grin.

From the Devil Z, Seele leaned out, waving eagerly.

"Come on, Collei! We need to move! And thanks again, Ms. Arlecchino! I'll bring more tofu next time!" Seele called out, her voice full of energy.

Collei gave a final nod before gripping the shifter, her foot hovering over the accelerator. The low growl of the engine sent a thrill up her spine.

Then, she slammed it into first gear.

The rear tires of the Eight-Six screeched against the asphalt, kicking up a thin layer of dust as the car shot forward. The roar of the Devil Z followed closely behind, its twin turbos spooling up as Seele pushed the machine to its limits, the unmistakable sound of the exhaust ringing out through the night.

The Chase Begins

As they reached the start of the uphill section, Beidou stole a glance at Seele, a teasing smirk dancing on her lips.

"You think you can catch up to the Eight-Six?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice laced with challenge.

Seele giggled, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. Confidence radiated from her like heat off an engine.

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "That thing's running a 1.6-liter non-turbo. I've got a 3.1-liter twin-turbo under this hood! Of course, I'll catch up."

She dropped a gear and floored it. The Devil Z surged forward, its aggressive exhaust note tearing through the night as it clawed up the mountain road, its power pushing it past the twists and turns with raw force.

But as they approached the first winding corner, something happened that neither Seele nor Beidou expected.

The Eight-Six didn't just keep up—it pulled away.

Not by a few feet. But by car lengths.

Seele's smirk vanished as she gritted her teeth, her foot burying itself deeper into the pedal.

"What the hell?" she muttered under her breath, frustration creeping into her voice as she slammed the gas pedal harder.

The Devil Z had raw power. It dominated on the straightaways. But as they reached the first hairpin, Collei's Eight-Six danced through the turn like it was cutting through air itself. The moment the car exited the corner, it was already setting up for the next, barely losing any speed.

Beidou leaned forward, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

"How…?" she murmured, her eyes wide in shock.

Seele clenched her fists around the wheel, her pride flaring.

"No way she's keeping that up. Not on this climb," she muttered through gritted teeth.

She buried the throttle deeper, pushing the Z's limits as they continued up the mountain. But no matter how hard she tried, that gap wasn't closing. If anything, it was widening.

The Devil Z was a beast on the highways, but on this mountain, on this course, the Eight-Six was untouchable.

At The Summit

The energy at the peak of Mt. Yougou was growing restless. Spectators shifted, engines idled, and the cool mountain air carried the low murmur of anxious conversations.

March stood off to the side, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her face tight with frustration. Pela was beside her, trying to stay optimistic, though her concern was palpable.

"Come on, March! You know Collei," Pela said, nudging her lightly. "She always shows up late—like that time she joined the FD race at the last second. She'll be here!"

March shook her head, her eyes downcast. Her voice wavered with doubt.

"There's no use, Pela. She's not coming this time."

The tone in her voice made Pela's stomach twist. The fear, the uncertainty—something was off.

Before Pela could respond, March turned abruptly, stepping onto the road. The others watched in silence as she walked toward the Blackbird, her steps slow, almost hesitant.

And then, she stopped.

Her breathing hitched.

The world around her seemed to shrink as panic gripped her chest. Her legs gave way, and she sank to her knees, her hands clutching at her face in disbelief.

A sound cut through the murmurs of the crowd.

A low, distinct hum.

A four-cylinder engine.

March's head snapped up, her heart leaping in her chest.

A bright set of headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the road like a beacon. The unmistakable sound of a high-revving inline-four echoed through the trees, the throttle blipping twice on the downshift.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

Her heart raced as the Eight-Six emerged from the shadows, its panda-white body gleaming under the streetlights, a symbol of everything Collei had become.

Collei leaned out of the window, flashing a sheepish grin.

"Hey there, March! Sorry I'm late," she called out, her voice lighthearted but firm. Then, her expression hardened, her eyes burning with fierce determination. "You were right—I'm a street racer. And I've been challenged. This is where I belong."

March's breath hitched again, but this time, relief washed over her like a tide.

Before she could stop herself, she was running—sprinting toward the Eight-Six, her chest tight, her vision blurred with emotion.

And then she reached Collei, throwing her arms around her, squeezing tightly, too tightly—enough to make Collei cough.

"Shit—March—can't breathe!" Collei wheezed with a laugh, but she didn't pull away.

Beidou and Seele rolled up moments later, their cars screeching to a halt behind them. Seele let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in her seat.

"Well, shit," she muttered, shaking her head. "She actually made it."

Beidou smirked, her arms crossed in satisfaction. "Told you. Collei's not the type to back down."

The crowd erupted into cheers, whistles, and excited chatter. At the starting line, Yelan leaned against the Blackbird, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She flicked her cigarette into the dirt, exhaling a long stream of smoke.

"Finally," she muttered, cracking her knuckles. "Now we can get this started."

The atmosphere at the summit of Mt. Yougou was electric, every pair of eyes locked onto the two cars idling side by side at the starting line. The Eight-Six, its signature panda-white body gleaming under the floodlights, sat low and quiet, its engine humming steadily. Next to it, the Blackbird rumbled with an almost menacing presence, the deep growl of its twin-turbocharged flat-six sending subtle vibrations through the pavement.

Collei exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart as she tightened her grip on the wheel. The few extra minutes she was given to collect herself weren't enough to ease the tension in her chest. This wasn't just any race—this was against the Blackbird. Against Yelan. And the whole mountain knew it.

Across from her, Yelan sat in her Blackbird with a serene confidence, fingers lightly tapping the side of the door. If she was feeling any pressure, she didn't show it. She had nothing to prove—this race was hers to take.

But Collei wasn't backing down. Not tonight.

At the Five Consecutive Hairpins

Lyney stood at the infamous section of the course, phone pressed to his ear, eyes darting between the road and the distant summit. He had a perfect vantage point from here—this was where things were going to fall apart for the Blackbird.

On the other end of the line, Arlecchino's voice was cool and composed, as if she already knew how this was going to play out.

"The Blackbird's weakness is glaringly obvious," she said with a chuckle. "If Collei knows what to look for, she'll exploit it. That thing's only real advantage is its weight distribution—everything else is just brute force."

Lyney frowned. "But Yelan's smart. She wouldn't bring that kind of power here without a plan."

Arlecchino scoffed. "Doesn't matter how smart she is. Power means nothing if you can't control it. The Blackbird has too much weight over the rear. She can throw it into a turn all she wants, but once that inertia kicks in? It's gonna swing wide. And on a downhill like Yougou? That's a death sentence."

At the same time, elsewhere on the course, Ningguang and Keqing were having a similar conversation from their own observation point.

"With such a heavy rear, the oversteer is nearly uncontrollable," Ningguang explained, watching the Blackbird from afar. "Even with fine-tuned suspension and expert pedal work, it's still a lot of bulk to manage. And on a downhill like this? With the power she's running, her tires won't last past the halfway mark."

Keqing leaned against her RX-7, flicking away her cigarette. "Yelan isn't dumb. She knows her tires are going to burn out fast, but if she gets enough of a gap early on, she might not need them by the time she reaches the hairpins."

Ningguang nodded slowly. "She's betting everything on acceleration. If Collei falls behind too much, she won't be able to capitalize on Yelan's weak spots."

Keqing smirked. "Good thing that kid doesn't know how to quit."

The Real Plan

Back at the hairpins, Lyney shifted on his feet, uneasy. "What about Collei? The Eight-Six has the handling, but she can't afford to lose any momentum or she's toast on the straights."

Arlecchino's voice returned, her tone almost smug. "Watch the bottom of the course, Lyney. Those hairpins will be the Blackbird's undoing. That's where Collei shines—and just to be safe, I made a few tweaks to the drift settings on the Eight-Six."

Lyney's brow furrowed. "Drift settings? What kind of tweaks?"

A soft pop echoed through the call as Arlecchino cracked open a beer. "I dialed up the understeer when she punches the gas," she said nonchalantly.

Lyney froze. His voice rose in alarm. "Are you insane?! Understeer when she accelerates? Her entire technique relies on oversteer! Why would you do that?!"

Arlecchino chuckled, taking a slow sip. "Relax. I adjusted it for the tofu runs she does—keeps the goods from sloshing around too much. With these settings, the Eight-Six can pull some serious G's through hairpins."

Lyney still wasn't convinced. "You're telling me you intentionally made her car understeer, on a mountain?"

"Endurance is the name of the game when racing a Blackbird," Arlecchino countered. "Yelan's car is a monster, but she's got a limited window before her tires are shredded. Collei, on the other hand? That Eight-Six can dance through those hairpins all night without a problem. Trust me."