Act: 1 Chapter : 1 | The Yougou Rallyist

A week had passed since Collei's exhilarating race with Ningguang. Word of the battle had spread like wildfire, with Collei's victory becoming the hottest topic among street racers and enthusiasts alike. Despite all the attention, Collei had done her best to stay grounded, though the win still felt surreal. The course record was hers now, but she knew that bigger challenges lay ahead.

Tonight, however, was about something much simpler—good food and good company.

Collei arrived at the well-known Yougou Restaurant by the lake, a place famous for its vibrant atmosphere and delicious food. The scent of grilled meats, sizzling vegetables, and freshly steamed rice filled the air as she stepped inside. Immediately, she was greeted by the welcoming sight of Beidou, Seele, Pela, Amber, and March, all flashing wide smiles when they spotted her.

Amber was the first to react, practically launching herself at Collei with a bright grin. "Collei! It's been too long!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around her tightly.

Collei staggered slightly but chuckled, melting into the embrace. "It's only been a week, Amber," she said, though she couldn't stop the warmth creeping into her voice.

March, watching the two with a knowing smirk, leaned toward Seele and whispered, "They look cute together, don't they?"

Seele crossed her arms, nodding in agreement. "They really do," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

After a few more moments of laughter and greetings, the group took their seats at the large wooden table, the soft hum of conversation filling the restaurant around them. Drinks were poured, chopsticks clinked against ceramic bowls, and the warmth of friendship settled in.

For a while, they simply enjoyed catching up—talking about anything and everything. But then, as the meal progressed, Pela suddenly set her chopsticks down and pulled out her phone, her expression shifting to something more serious.

"Guys," she said, scrolling through her screen, "I heard something pretty interesting from a friend of mine last night. Apparently, there's a mysterious car that's been tearing through Yougou's mountain roads at insane speeds—both uphill and downhill."

That immediately got everyone's attention.

"A new racer?" Beidou mused, raising an eyebrow.

Pela nodded. "Yeah. My friend even managed to snap a photo, though it's not the best quality. Maybe you all can recognize it?"

Curious, the others leaned in as Pela passed her phone around. The image was blurry—likely taken at high speed—but the car had some distinct features. A ducktail spoiler, steel-looking wheels, and a missing rear bumper, all framed by the unmistakable silhouette of a coupe body style. And most notably, the car's paint scheme stood out even in the low-light image: a combination of sky blue, dark blue, and red stripes running down the center.

Beidou's eyes widened. "Wait a goddamn minute…" she muttered, squinting at the image. Then, recognition hit her like a truck. "I know that livery. The sky blue, dark blue, and red stripes? That's definitely Martini Racing."

Collei, unfamiliar with the term, tilted her head. "What's Martini?"

March grinned and leaned closer to explain, her enthusiasm shining through. "Martini Racing is the name of a legendary racing team, sponsored by the Martini wine brand. They've been involved in motorsports for decades—rallying, endurance racing, even Formula One. Their livery is iconic."

Collei's eyes flicked back to the image, newfound respect settling in. "So, whoever this is… they're driving something serious."

Pela's phone suddenly pinged with a notification. She glanced down and grinned. "Oh, looks like my contact sent me something else. Videos. Let's take a look."

The group huddled closer as Pela tapped on the first video. The screen lit up with a dark, winding mountain pass—headlights cutting through the night, illuminating the road ahead. And then, the car came into view.

A monstrous roar filled the air as the coupe barreled down the road, its high-pitched supercharger whine echoing through the mountains like a banshee's wail. As it cornered, massive flames erupted from its exhaust, lighting up the darkness in brilliant flashes of orange. The car moved like a ghost—effortless, composed, and blisteringly fast.

Beidou's jaw dropped. "Holy shit," she breathed.

March clapped a hand over her mouth in sheer disbelief. "That thing's fucking flying!"

Amber's amber eyes sparkled with admiration. "It's so fast… and that sound—" she shivered slightly. "I've never heard anything like it."

The second video played next, showing the car tackling a tight hairpin. Just when it seemed like it might understeer, the driver flicked the wheel and sent the car sideways into a perfect drift. The rear tires bit into the pavement, gripping the road with unshakable confidence. A sharp downshift followed, the engine screaming as the car rocketed out of the corner with brutal acceleration.

Pela whistled. "Okay, that has to be one of the fastest cars we've seen around these parts."

Collei frowned in thought. "Yeah, but how the hell do we figure out what car it is?"

March suddenly snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up with an idea. "I know! Maybe Lyney has an idea! He's a total history nerd when it comes to cars!"

Pela gave a nod of approval. "Good call, March. If anyone can identify this thing, it's him."

With a solid plan forming, the tension in the air lifted. The group exchanged grins and raised their glasses in an unspoken toast—not just to the meal, but to the mystery that lay ahead.

As plates were passed around and laughter filled the restaurant once more, one thing was certain—Collei's next race wasn't far off. And whoever this new challenger was… they weren't just fast.

They were dangerous.

The next day, the group gathered at a gas station in Yougou, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and burnt rubber. It was the usual meeting spot before a race or after a long night on the mountain passes. Today, however, the atmosphere was different—tense, expectant. Everyone stood in a semi-circle around Lyney, their eyes locked on him as he studied Pela's phone, the mysterious car's blurry image and videos displayed clearly on the screen.

At first, Lyney's expression was unreadable—calm, focused, detached. But then, as the footage played, something shifted. His fingers tightened slightly around the device, his eyes widening in disbelief.

March, always quick to pick up on emotions, tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "Lyney? You good?"

Lyney exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead as if trying to process what he was seeing. His voice dropped into a near whisper, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "I haven't heard about this car… or its driver… in years."

Pela's sharp gaze locked onto him. "Wait. You know the driver? And the car?"

Lyney nodded slowly, his mind already racing through old memories. "Yeah. I know the car. And I used to know the driver, though I've forgotten his name over time. But trust me—I knew him."

The group leaned in, anticipation thick in the air.

Crossing his arms, Lyney continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "The guy was a former rally driver in the 1980s, racing for Lancia Martini Racing. Back then, they drove Lancia 037 Rally cars. That was during the infamous Group B era."

March's eyes lit up in recognition, excitement creeping into her tone. "Group B? You mean those ridiculously overpowered, borderline suicidal rally machines? Like the Audi Quattro?"

Lyney grinned, nodding. "Exactly. Back in 1983, Lancia and Audi had a legendary battle—rear-wheel drive versus all-wheel drive. Everyone thought Audi had the advantage with their Quattro system, but the Lancia 037 still managed to win the championship. That was the last time a rear-wheel-drive car ever won a World Rally Championship. And this guy—this Inazuman driver—was part of that legacy. He was the first Inazuman to ever win a WRC title. A damn legend in his own right."

The group was silent, absorbing the weight of what Lyney was saying.

"He kept racing into the '90s," Lyney went on, his tone softening slightly. "Then he transitioned to closed-circuit racing. That's when I met him. I was just a kid, barely learning the ins and outs of racing, and Arlecchino was still proving himself as a downhill demon. We saw him race a few times, and let me tell you… he was on a different level. Then, when he retired from professional racing, he didn't stop driving—he just switched to the mountain passes. He brought that same Lancia with him, tuned specifically for tarmac stages, and—"

Collei, who had been listening intently, suddenly spoke up, her voice quiet but thoughtful. "If my father was the fastest downhill…"

Beidou caught on instantly, finishing her thought with a knowing smirk. "…Then this guy was the fastest uphill."

Lyney snapped his fingers in acknowledgment. "Exactly! You two are catching on quick." He took a step back, exhaling. "I heard something, years ago… that he was training his daughter to take his place. To carry on his legacy." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Since then, I haven't heard a damn thing about him. It's like he vanished."

Seele, leaning casually against her Devil Z with her arms crossed, smirked. "So, Lyney, what's the deal with the car in the photos and videos?"

Lyney took one last long look at the footage before handing Pela her phone back. His voice carried a mixture of admiration and reverence.

"That car… is the 1983 championship-winning Lancia 037 Rally."

The weight of his words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. Silence stretched between them as they processed what that meant.

A car that had once dominated the dirt tracks, fought against the best in the world, and won—was now tearing through the mountain passes of Yougou.

March scratched her head, her pink hair getting messier by the second as she tried to wrap her mind around it. "Wait, hold up—rally cars like that… aren't they illegal on the streets?"

Lyney smirked knowingly. "Not really, March. Rally cars have license plates. After each race stage, they have to drive on public roads to get to the next stage, or to a service area for repairs and tuning. As long as it's road-legal, it's fine."

Pela, ever the tactician, thought for a moment before asking, "Okay, but what exactly are we dealing with here? What are the specs on this Lancia, Lyney?"

Lyney's grin widened. He loved this part.

"Well, this Lancia isn't set up for gravel like its original rally form. This thing is tuned for tarmac stages. That means it's riding low to the ground, fitted with tarmac tires—probably sport tires, or even semi-slicks, since full racing slicks are illegal." He took a deep breath before continuing.

"It's mid-engine, rear-wheel drive—completely different from Yelan's Porsche Blackbird. The engine? A 2.1-liter Fiat Abarth twin-cam with a supercharger, pushing around 325 horsepower. And because it's built with lightweight composite materials, it only weighs 925 kilograms—meaning the 037 Rally has a perfect 50/50 weight distribution."

Amber, who had been listening quietly, hesitated before raising a hand. "Wait… but why a supercharger? Wouldn't a turbo be better?"

Lyney's eyes practically sparkled. "Normally, yeah. But the 037 was different. A supercharger gives instant power. Unlike a turbo, which takes time to spool up, a supercharger delivers boost the second you hit the gas. That's why the Lancia had such brutal low-end acceleration."

Beidou folded her arms, her expression shifting from fascination to strategy. "So, what happens if this driver challenges Collei to a race?"

Lyney's smirk faded slightly, replaced with something more serious. He shook his head. "I don't know, Beidou. If it's him? Arlecchino was the only racer who could match him. They tied—twice. Arlecchino was the undisputed king of the downhill, and this guy was the undisputed king of the uphill. No one else even came close to keeping up with them."

Collei, deep in thought, suddenly murmured, "But… what if it's like me?"

The group turned to her.

She lifted her gaze, meeting Lyney's eyes. "You said his daughter was supposed to take his place, right?" She exhaled. "My father's retired. I took his place. Maybe… she did the same."

Lyney stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly. "It's possible," he admitted. "He's gotten a lot older, after all."

The thought lingered in the air like the scent of gasoline—thick with promise, danger, and an inevitable confrontation.

For Collei, this wasn't just another rival.

This was a legacy colliding with another legacy.

And it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed on the mountain.

The night air was sharp, biting at their skin as the group stood at a hairpin corner near the summit of Yougou. The mountain pass was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant howling of the wind. It was late, but none of them dared leave—not when they were about to witness something legendary.

March pulled her jacket tighter around herself, her teeth chattering. "Ugh! When the hell is this Lancia getting here!? It's freezing out here!"

Seele, leaning against her Devil Z, exuded her usual composed demeanor as she watched the road. Her breath clouded in the cold air as she chuckled. "Patience, March. It'll be here soon enough. Just wait."

And then, without warning, the silence was shattered.

A distinct, high-pitched whine ripped through the night air, echoing between the mountains like a haunting melody. The unmistakable shriek of a supercharged engine—the sort that didn't ask for attention, but demanded it.

It was here.

Out of the darkness, the Lancia burst into view—a sky-blue blur cutting through the night like a specter, its rally-bred stance aggressive yet controlled. The car's tires hissed against the cold asphalt, the faint smell of rubber filling the air as it entered the hairpin at a terrifying speed. For a split second, the brake lights flashed, and then the driver threw it sideways. The tires screamed in protest, but the car held the slide effortlessly, its four-wheel drift executed with surgical precision.

Flames burst from the exhaust, the engine screaming under the force of the supercharger, the high-pitched whine reverberating against the rock walls. The entire group could feel the raw power and sheer aggression radiating from the machine, the unmistakable aura of a car built for one purpose: speed.

Beidou, for all her bravado, shivered—not from the cold, but from something else. Her arms wrapped around herself instinctively, her gaze never leaving the Lancia as it disappeared into the night.

"I don't know what it is," she muttered, her voice uncharacteristically serious, "but something about that car... gives me chills."

Lyney, watching as the Lancia vanished into the darkness, furrowed his brows, his mind racing. "I don't know about that feeling, Beidou," he said thoughtfully, "but I do know one thing—if this Lancia challenges Collei to a race, it'll be the closest finish Yougou's ever seen."

Lake Yougou – The Meeting of Rivals

The Lancia rolled to a smooth stop beside a red Honda NSX NA1, its headlights casting a soft glow over the still waters of the lake. The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the hellish speed it had just displayed on the mountain pass, calm and serene, the world holding its breath.

Leaning casually against the NSX was a young blonde woman, her golden locks catching the faint moonlight. She glanced at the arriving Lancia, a smirk already tugging at her lips. The light from the car's headlights illuminated her face, revealing a sharp, confident expression.

"Hey there, Clorinde," she greeted, arms crossed over her chest. "How's the suspension setup treating you?"

Clorinde stepped out of the driver's seat, shutting the door with a quiet click. She stretched her arms above her head with satisfaction, her posture a mix of ease and pride. Her deep blue eyes met Navia's, confidence glinting within them.

"It's perfect," she replied, her voice calm, like the steady hum of a finely-tuned engine. "Flawless through those corners. Like butter."

She let her gaze drift to the NSX, noting the fresh modifications. Her smirk widened slightly as she looked over the body kit. "Gotta say, Navia, that new body kit suits your NSX real well. Looks like it finally got the aggressive stance it always needed."

Navia chuckled, a playful gleam in her eye as she placed her hands on her hips. "You know I love a good refresh. But enough about my ride. What's your plan with the new suspension setup?"

Clorinde's playful smirk faded into something more serious. She leaned back against the Lancia, folding her arms with a deliberate, calm motion.

"Simple," she said, voice steady with the weight of her conviction. "Do what my father couldn't."

Navia raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "And that would be…?"

Clorinde's eyes narrowed slightly, her smirk returning—this time, sharper, more determined.

"Beat the Eight-Six."

Navia's breath caught in her throat. "Wait, what?" She straightened up, staring at Clorinde as if making sure she heard her correctly. "Beat the Eight-Six? Clorinde, you do realize that thing's beaten every single driver that's ever challenged it, right?"

Clorinde merely shrugged, unfazed by the challenge. She glanced at her Lancia again, running a gloved hand over the Martini stripes that ran down the side of the car, and then back to Navia.

"Yeah, I know," she said coolly. "But back in the day, when my father was still racing, he was the only one who could keep up with that Eight-Six. And in every single downhill race they had..."

She looked back at Navia, her smirk widening into something more dangerous, more competitive.

"...it always ended in a tie."

Navia's eyes widened in disbelief. "Your father… tied with the Eight-Six?"

Clorinde nodded, her expression unreadable. "That's what he always claimed. But…" She exhaled, shaking her head with a small chuckle. "My father was a terrible liar. Even his friends knew that."

Navia crossed her arms, her mind racing. "Damn," she muttered under her breath. "If that's true… then your old man was insane."

Clorinde grinned. "That's what they all said."

After a moment of thought, Navia asked, "Okay, so let's say you are gonna challenge this Eight-Six. How are you planning to do it?"

Clorinde leaned forward slightly, her smirk turning almost wolfish, her eyes narrowing with razor-sharp focus.

"Easy," she said, her voice low but filled with fire. "I'll challenge her myself—right at the gas station where she works."

Navia's jaw nearly dropped. "Wait, you mean—you're just gonna walk up to her and challenge her? No buildup? No hype? No nothing?"

"Why not?" Clorinde said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a casual flick. "Her father's old rival—my father's friend—is probably retired by now. So the one driving that Eight-Six now is most likely his daughter."

Navia whistled, shaking her head in amusement. "You really are your father's daughter, huh?"

Clorinde smirked. "Damn right I am."

She lifted her head, gazing up at the night sky for a moment. The stars above seemed to reflect the same fire that burned in her chest. Her voice softened slightly, but it carried a sense of finality that was unmistakable.

"And when I beat her…" she said, her hands tightening into fists, "I'll prove my father's claim was true."

Navia giggled, shaking her head. "You know, this feels like back when you were still trying to shave seconds off your lap times, years ago."

Clorinde chuckled in return. "Yeah… feels like old times, doesn't it?"

Navia pushed herself off the NSX, her playful smile giving way to the familiar competitive edge. "Well, it's getting late. Let's head back."

Clorinde nodded. "Agreed."

The two friends climbed into their respective cars. Navia's NSX roared to life effortlessly, the deep rumble of its V6 filling the air, a symphony of precision. Meanwhile, Clorinde's Lancia hesitated for a moment, its aging race engine coughing before exploding to life with a ferocious snarl that echoed across the lake. The distinct whine of the supercharger sliced through the air once more.

Side by side, the two cars pulled away from the lake, their taillights cutting through the darkness as they disappeared into the winding roads of Yougou, the mountains echoing their departure.

The closest race in Yougou's history was about to unfold.

And this time… history wouldn't repeat itself.