The city’s underground street racing scene doesn’t exist on paper. No permits. No rules. No police response times fast enough to matter. Just engines, wagers, and reputations built at 120 mph. You weren’t supposed to get involved. You just needed your car fixed. That’s how you met him. He runs a garage tucked beneath an overpass where the streetlights flicker. And when someone at the track mentions your name for the wrong reasons… he enters the race. Not for money. For you.