He shot out into the race track successfully intercepting a surprised Reaper who hung back to avoid a fatal collision with the new comer who seemed to have come out of nowhere.
Reaper jerked his wheel and hissed through clenched teeth. "Who the heck is that?"
"Retrieving data… Data retrieval complete," Axel, his AI assistant, replied with cool precision. "It's Recoil."
Reaper's grip tightened on the wheel. "What! Impossible—I blew him to hell myself!" His calm exterior cracked, his voice raw with disbelief.
He tried to catch up with the charging Ferrari but another car smoothly got in between…
Recoil turned the wheel hard to stabilize himself in the middle of the racetrack while still maintaining his current speed.
"Finish line distance: 800 meters. New position: 1st. I advise you try to keep it that way," Nova announced coolly.
"Ugh… I'm gonna have a headache after this," Recoil muttered.
He glanced at his side mirror—there it was again. The sleek silver blur of a Porsche 918 Spyder, not trying to overtake… just trailing him, mimicking his moves like a ghost.
Suspicious.
Nova sensed his mental drift and reeled him back in. "Focus on the race, Rec. Just a little more."
The finish line finally came into view, glowing faint blue under the late-stage virtual sun. Recoil took a breath, shifted into neutral, and coasted the last forty meters on sheer momentum. The car hummed smoothly across the line.
VICTORY!
[Notification: +100 XP, +30 Skill Points, +20 Stat Points, 30,000 Coins]
[Artifact Reward Available – Retrieve from Quest NPC]
Recoil's earpiece crackled as Tyrion came over the line. " Man! You won, you're first!". It took an effort for Recoil to keep a smug look of his face while he slowed down and brought his car to a crisp stop.
He alighted the car and walked to meet an NPC standing close by. "Congratulations, player," the NPC said in a mechanical voice. "Here's your artifact."
He handed over a black-gold key, glowing faintly with runes. It was cold to the touch—too real for something virtual.
" This is the Infernal Keystone Keep it safe," the NPC added with an ominous tone. "It can still be stolen from you… unless you upload it."
Recoil gave a curt nod and turned back toward his car. Just as he was sliding into the driver's seat, he caught movement in his side mirror.
The Porsche.
It had pulled up beside the NPC.
"Who's that guy?" he muttered.
No nameplate, no guild tag. Just a silent driver in mirrored shades. The kind who didn't race for fun—but for something else.
***
Glasses clicked as the cheers went on. The members of the Silver Syndicates were gathered at the nightclub to mark their celebration.
The end results of the race were in a Car\\Driver\\\Position format, with only the first five getting the artifact.
Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Recoil. 1st
Porsche 918 Spyder. Athena. 2nd
Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Reaper. 3rd
NIO EP9. Neo. 4th
Tesla Roadster. Dark Lord. 5th
…
"Damn well done, mate! You really shook them up!" Vapor whooped, slamming back a gulp of beer.
"Yeah, man! You got ridiculous reflexes. Where'd you learn to drive like that?" Tyrion chimed in.
Recoil just shrugged, cool as ever. "Thanks for the ride," he added, giving a nod toward Smoke, who sat slack-jawed in his booth seat.
Smoke finally blinked. "Yeah… no prob, Rec. That was wild."
"What're you gonna do about your ride, mate?" Vapor asked, a hint of concern in his voice. As gamers they all could relate with the pain of losing what must have surely been a most prized gadget.
Tyrion noticed Recoil's blue eyes darken slightly. "I'll buy another."
They all understood the weight in his voice.
"Thanks for the gathering, guys, but I gotta bounce," Smoke said, rising from his seat.
Tyrion groaned, mock-offended. "C'mon, man! You're really gonna leave your homies behind?!"
"He's afraid he can't hold his liquor," Vapor added with a grin.
The music thumped on. Recoil leaned back in his seat, but his mind was elsewhere. That Porsche, That driver. Athena.
He hadn't seen her before, not in any rankings or killfeeds although the name sounded vaguely familiar.
And yet she finished second… without firing a shot, without causing chaos. Just watching.
Recoil sipped from his drink, eyes narrowing. The race was over. But the game?
Not even close. " What are you thinking about man" Tyrion asked amused. Recoil looked up and glanced their faces.
" Nothing important Tee" Recoil replied with a shrug. " Maybe he has some lady on his mind" Vapor taunted.
" Nah tell me that's not true man" Tyrion faced Recoil who only gave a lazy shrug. " Ha! Man's got a lady friend" Tyrion said with a laugh.
" So who is it?" An animated Vapor inquired. 'God! If this goes on I'll never be able to think' Recoil thought and decided clear the air.
" I don't have girlfriend in-game or reality. I haven't got the time" "nah rather you're a big time coward". Recoil inwardly mocked.
He did have a girl on his mind, just not the type they were thinking. This girl was a shadow at the very recesses of his consciousness. The only thing he knew about this intriguing character so far was her name: Athena.
" Um imma need to leave guys" He said and rose from his seat. " Don't tell me you're leaving too?" This time Tyrion was really disappointed.
" Sorry man, I'm beat and I've got a early start tomorrow" Recoil said. " One day we might have to find out who you are that you're so damned busy in the real world" Vapor frowned.
" Sorry guys I'll make up for it" Recoil said and hurried out of the club. It was suddenly becoming too noisy to him.
" Nova can you track someone for me" He asked and dug his hands into the pockets of his hood. " Well enough" was Nova's cryptic reply.
" I need you to track someone down for me". Recoil said ominously and strolled down the street.