I pulled over. The rain washed the soot from my windshield. I looked at the burning wreck in my rearview mirror. No driver got out. No driver ever did. They just despawned, their points banked, their car a husk until they respawned back at their own hideout, angrier than before.
"Suspect eliminated. Heat level reduced to zero," Zephyr announced. "Return to garage."
Then: RESPAWN IN 3... 2... 1...
Tonight, the objective was simple: Intercept a hypercar known as “The Ghost.” Rumor said its driver was a former cop who’d snapped. He didn't race for money. He raced to erase his own heat signature. Every mile he drove, he vanished a little more.
The rain on the Pacific Coast Highway didn’t wash away mistakes. It just made them shine.
















