The week passed quickly, filled with training and preparation.
David had little time for distractions, but one thing kept bothering him—
His pet frog still hadn't returned.
He frowned, staring at the empty space where it usually sat.
"Did the little guy get lost?"
Or maybe it was just having too much fun?
Not that he was worried—he had upgraded all of its attributes before it left.
But still…
Something about it not even sending back a postcard made him feel like an anxious parent waiting for their rebellious kid to come home.
Of course, life in Night City didn't stop just because his pet was on a prolonged vacation.
---
Friday Night - The Race Beckons
David arrived early at Afterlife.
Tonight wasn't just about business—Claire had asked for his help.
And when Claire asked for something, it usually wasn't small.
She was already waiting outside, arms crossed, looking as steady as ever.
"Let's go, David."
She motioned toward the street.
"We'll talk details on the way."
David raised an eyebrow. "On the way?"
Claire smirked. "Yeah. You're driving."
She pressed a button on her key fob.
BEEP! BEEP!
A deep, mechanical growl rumbled across the street.
A giant modified truck sat in the shadows, its headlights flaring to life like the glowing eyes of a beast.
David whistled.
"Damn. I didn't even notice it was there."
Now that he got a good look at it, he recognized the vehicle immediately.
Claire's pride and joy—her Mackinaw 'Behemoth'.
The base model was already built like a tank—solid, heavy, and practically indestructible.
But Claire's version?
Completely overhauled.
From its reinforced suspension to its turbocharged engine, this thing was a monster.
Four-wheel drive, insane acceleration, way too much horsepower.
It wasn't just a car—it was a statement.
A battle tank on wheels.
The only vehicle David could think of that might beat it in raw durability was his Emperor 740 Ironclad.
Even then, the Behemoth had one key advantage—
It was fast.
Claire tossed him the keys. "All yours tonight."
David grinned, catching them midair.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."
---
Behind the Wheel
David slid into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition.
VROOOOOM!
The Behemoth roared to life, its engine growling like an awakened beast.
Several pedestrians turned their heads, startled by the sheer presence of the vehicle.
Claire leaned back in the passenger seat, casually tapping the nav system.
"Destination: Martin Luther King Jr. Crossing."
David gripped the wheel.
"Alright, let's see what this thing can do."
VRRRRRMMMM!!
The Behemoth shot forward, tires screeching as it tore down the road.
Claire lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke as she spoke.
"David, you know why I asked you here tonight?"
He glanced at her. "Not just for a joyride, I assume?"
She chuckled dryly, then ran her fingers over the dashboard.
There was a strange look in her eyes—nostalgia mixed with something darker.
"This truck… it's the only thing I have left in Night City."
David stayed silent, letting her talk.
"My ex-husband and I built it together."
She traced the steering wheel as if she could still feel his touch on it.
"We raced together. Won our first championship in this very truck."
Her voice softened.
"Those were the best days of my life."
David could already tell where this was going.
And sure enough—
"Then one day… he died. Right in front of me. In a race."
Her tone hardened.
"I watched it happen. Watched as another racer slammed into him—on purpose."
She clenched her fists.
"His head… his blood… everything."
David stayed quiet, waiting.
Claire turned to him, her eyes burning with something deadly.
"That racer—the bastard who killed him—he's in the finals this year."
David's grip on the wheel tightened slightly.
Claire inhaled deeply, then looked him dead in the eye.
"I want revenge."
Silence.
Then—
David smirked.
"So, I'm driving you to war tonight?"
Claire nodded. "I trust you more than anyone else. You have the skill, the reflexes, the firepower."
She hesitated for a second before adding—
"But David… this isn't just any race."
She reached into the glove box.
CLICK.
A shotgun landed on her lap.
David raised an eyebrow.
"Gunners allowed, huh?"
Claire loaded the weapon.
"Not just allowed. Required."
This wasn't a normal race.
It was a death race.
Real bullets. Real blood.
David grinned.
"Sounds like my kind of fun."
He slammed the accelerator.
VRRRRRMMMM!!
The Behemoth roared, launching itself forward like a beast unleashed.
Tonight—
Night City was theirs.
---
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