Day 216

[from Street Racer]

Tristan held off on unleashing the Skyline's true power until they had cleared the abandoned railyard and were back out on the open road. "Okay, traffic's sparse, weather's good… you picked a good night for your first taste of speed," Tristan remarked. "Alright, here goes." With a loud roar, the Skyline began to rapidly accelerate down the high street, and Lien felt herself pushed back into her seat by the sudden G-forces. She wanted to look over at the speedometer, to see just how fast they were really going, but she could not tear her gaze away from the view through the windscreen, as the cars in front of them began to get closer and closer, moving faster and faster.

Tristan, naturally, was undaunted. With smooth, sweeping motions of the steering wheel, he neatly swerved past every car that he encountered. Soon the Skyline was at 100 miles an hour, then 120, then 140, relentless accelerating to speeds Lien had never experienced or even imagined before. The scenery around her turned into a neon blur, and she found herself wondering how on earth Trist could possibly navigate with such precision in the street-lit night.

Tristan slowed to turn right at an intersection, skipping the red light and drifting his way round the 90-degree bend. Lien let out a little squeal of surprise as the sudden centrifugal forces shunted her to the left. As terrified as she was, she could already feel the adrenaline starting to surge through her body. The fear excited her. It was a thrill unlike any she'd ever experienced before, and although it petrified her to the core, she had already fallen in love with it.

Having swept round the right-hand turn, Tristan was now driving into the oncoming traffic, but still he negotiated his way through with ease. Lien clutched the seat for dear life, her eyes wide with shock as she watched the vehicles hurtle towards her one after the other, each one vanishing to the side at the last second. A man driving a sedan swerved hard onto the pavement to avoid the Skyline, slamming head-on into a lamp-post, and at this point Tristan decided he had better move back into the correct lane, not just for his own safety but for that of the other road users. A head-on impact at these speeds would kill everyone in both cars.

As the Skyline veered back onto the right-hand side of the road, Lien breathed a sigh of relief. She had never been so relieved to see a car's taillights in her life, even if they were still hurtling towards her at considerable speed. "Holy shit, this is crazy!" she exclaimed. "This is completely crazy!"

Tristan did not respond, nor did he make any indication that he had heard her. In all probability, he hadn't: he was concentrating so hard on the road, and making his way through it, that he had blocked almost everything else out, including the voice of his companion. He had not, however, forgotten that Lien was in the car. Indeed, he was driving specifically to impress and/or frighten her, getting closer to the traffic cars and swerving later than he had to, not to mention the little trip down the oncoming lane.

Tristan's next trick was to take a left turn at another four-way intersection, drifting his way between two cars with pinpoint precision; another couple of feet either way and it would all have ended in disaster. This manoeuvre elicited another squeal from Lien, and a sharp flinch at the expected crunch, followed by a drawn-out gasp of relief and astonishment as she realized they had made it. Her adrenaline levels continued to rise, the excitement only building with each near-miss, and with it came a sudden rush of affection for the man who held her life in his hands and was juggling with it like a circus performer.

Suddenly, however, Lien heard the shrill wail of a police siren behind them, and her blood ran cold. "Oh my god, there are police after us!" she exclaimed. Looking in the passenger mirror, she could just about make out the red and blue flashing lights behind them. "What are we gonna do, Tristan?"

Tristan's response was simply to go even faster. The police in Jade City had tried to upgrade their cruisers' performance levels, in an attempt to keep up with the street racers during pursuits, but the street racers had been three steps ahead and their cars outmatched the police cruisers in every possible way. The flashing lights and sirens swiftly faded away as Tristan roared through the city, and the pursuit was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

Feeling that his passenger had perhaps had enough for one day, Tristan slowed down until he was back at the speed limit, then pulled off into an underground car park, sweeping into a space and coming neatly to a stop. "They won't find us in here," he said. "We can wait here for the heat to cool off." He then turned towards Lien. "So, how was it? You enjoy yourself?"

In the passenger seat, Lien was still catching her breath, recovering from the sheer intensity of what she had just experienced. She could still feel the adrenaline coursing through her, and as she realized she had made it through the drive in one piece, she suddenly felt more alive than she ever had in her life. She caught sight of herself in the rear-view mirror: her hair was dishevelled, her face was flushed, and her eyes were still wide with shock, but she was smiling. In spite of all the near-misses she had just endured, she was smiling from ear to ear.

Trist caught sight of her enraptured expression. "I'll take that as a yes, then," he said. "Let's wait a little while, until the cops stop looking for us, and then I'll drive you back to your house. Sound good?"

Lien finally managed to catch her breath, then nodded, sweeping her hair back into place with one hand. "Yes, please," she said, her voice a little breathy. "And I'd… like to do this again sometime, if that's possible."

Tristan nodded. "Sure," he said. "Might start charging you for gas, though."

"That's okay," said Lien. "There's… one other thing I'd like to do with you as well." She started to unfasten her harness, looking over at Tristan with a fiery passion in her eyes. "How long do you think it will take for the cops to stop looking for us?"

Tristan gave no indication that he had cottoned on to Lien's intentions. "I dunno," he said, "maybe half an hour. Why?"

Having unfastened her harness, Lien slipped herself out of it and then launched herself at Tristan, pulling him into a passionate kiss as her pent-up adrenaline finally unleashed itself. It took Tristan only a moment to respond, returning the kiss and pulling Lien closer. The girl obligingly sat on his lap, her tongue sliding into his mouth as their hands began to explore one another…

Day 202 (Catch-Up)

[from Street Racer]

In the distance, a loud rumble signalled that the race had begun. The tiny dots on the horizon swiftly grew larger and larger, and Lien leaned forward expectantly, waiting to see who would emerge from the darkness in the lead. As the shapes in the distance grew larger, Lien realized that Tristan and Bouncer were almost neck-and-neck. She was surprised at the Skyline's pace at first, then realized that it had probably been upgraded from its original performance levels. Seeing that Tristan was in with a chance of winning, Lien found herself willing him on.

As the cars rapidly approached the finish line, Lien couldn't quite tell which of them was in the lead, and as they crossed the line, she still couldn't tell. It looked as though Tristan may have had the edge, but they would have to check the cameras at the finish line to be sure. Either way, it was safe to say that the Impreza had been some way behind in third.

The three cars screeched to a halt, and as the drivers got out, both Tristan and Bouncer seemed to think they had won. "I won that, Tristan," said Bouncer, pointing a triumphant finger. "Don't pretend like you won that, 'coz you were miles behind me."

"On a one-mile drag strip?" Tristan coolly replied. "Yeah, sure. Check the tapes."

"Only to prove that I won that," said Bouncer. "Hey! Lemme see that replay!"

The girl with the finish-line camera quickly hurried over, and Tristan and Bouncer gathered behind her to watch. Lien could not see the replay, but it seemed as though Tristan had won, for Bouncer suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, c'mon, man! There's no way-"

"You saw the tapes," said Tristan with a shrug. "The tapes don't lie, Bouncer. You're out."

Bouncer shouted something Lien couldn't quite catch, and stormed off back to his Mustang, shutting himself back inside it as he contemplated his defeat. With the first heat now over, the second heat was now imminent: the remaining three cars were gathering at the start line, while the contestants from the first heat pulled over to the side, giving them space in which to come to a stop. The camera girl rushed back to her spot next to the finish line, placing the camcorder back on its low tripod. Tristan sat on his car's rear spoiler and settled down to watch the race.

As the second heat got underway, it quickly became apparent that there would be no such debate about the winner this time. Jason Diaz' orange 370Z had quickly pulled out ahead and crossed the line around two seconds ahead of his competitors. Unlike Tristan, he did not brake to a stop immediately, instead slowing and performing several victory donuts before pulling over to the side. Several of the gathered fans rushed over to congratulate Jason, while Tristan hopped off the back of his car and calmly got back in, ready for the final shoot-out.

Once the crowd around his car had dispersed, Jason headed back towards the start line along with Tristan. Jason tried to turn the mile-long trip into a miniature drag race, quickly accelerating past Tristan, who seemed to be taking a more leisurely path back, alternating between accelerating and braking in order to warm his car back up again. Eventually, both of them reached the start line and turned round, ready to begin the final race. Though Lien could barely see them, she could hear them revving loudly as they prepared for the off.

A sudden roar and screech signalled the start of the race, as the two drivers rocketed off the start line. The final, it seemed, was just as close as the first race had been, with very little to call between the 370Z and the Skyline. It seemed as though the Skyline was trying to pull out a lead but the 370Z kept pulling back.

As the two approached the finish line, it seemed to be almost a dead heat, and as they crossed the line, there was immediate confusion as to who had won. The girl with the camera quickly removed it from its tripod and rushed over to the two drivers, who seemed equally confused. "Was that a dead heat?" asked Tristan.

"Like hell it was a dead heat," said Jason. "You got lucky, man. I shoulda won that by a landslide."

Tristan shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't always go how you want it to," he remarked.

As the camera girl approached, Jason turned to her expectantly, ignoring Tristan. "Whatcha got for me?" he asked. "That was mine, right?"

The two drivers gathered around the girl once more. "Actually, no," said the girl, "it seems like you were just a few inches behind."

Jason tilted the camcorder so he could see the view screen face-on. "The fuck?" he said. "I thought I had that!"

"But you didn't," said the girl. "The win is Tristan's."

Jason looked incredulous at the result, while Tristan merely smiled and nodded in acknowledgement before walking away. Before long, those gathered around began to congratulate him, and Lien decided to join them. As she approached, she noticed one of the other racers handing over the prize pot. She didn't know how much it was, but it looked like a fairly large wad of bills. Tristan quickly stuffed the wad into his back pocket.

After the crowd had dispersed a little, Lien took her chance and sidled in front of the street racer. "Nice win," she said. "Looks like it pays well, too."

"That's the idea," said Tristan. Pausing for a moment, he squinted at Lien. "We've met before... before the first heat. You were the girl checking out my car."

"That was me," said Lien. "The name's Lien. Lien Wei."

"Tristan. Tristan Starr." Tristan paused again, and this time it seemed he was searching for something more to say. "Is this your first time at a street race?" he asked eventually.

"Yeah," said Lien, "how did you-"

"You have that amazed look about you," said Tristan. "Like a spectator."

Lien smiled and nodded. "My friend invited me," she said. "I'd seen the street racers around, and I have to admit, I'd been curious about the scene for a little while now, but I'd never actually been to a race before."

"What did you think?" asked Tristan.

"It's really..." Lien found herself struggling to describe what she had just seen, and she realized that she hadn't really seen that much at all. "Uhh... it's really fast," she said finally. "Fast and loud."

Tristan smiled. "That's how we like it," he remarked.

"Uhh... do you know when the next race will be?" asked Lien. "I'd really like to see more."

"Caught the bug, huh?" asked Tristan. "Sorry, but the races aren't run to a schedule. But..." He glanced at his car, then trailed off.

Lien followed his gaze, and caught an inkling of what he had in mind. "But what?" she asked.

"I could take you for a spin in my car," Tristan suggested. "Not many people can get that close to the action."

Lien smiled. "I'd love to," she said.

"Alright then," said Tristan, opening the driver door. "Get in, and buckle up."

Lien crossed over to the passenger door and got in. Both seats were racing-style bucket seats, made of carbon fibre and lightweight foam; instead of a seatbelt, there was a five-point harness. The rear seats had been ripped out completely, replaced with carbon scaffolding for extra rigidity. Lien got in and started untangling the harness, trying to figure out how to put it on.

"Wait." Lien turned to look at Tristan and saw he was looking at her with a serious, but still somehow calm expression. "Before you strap in," he said, "there's something you need to understand about what I do. This car has no airbags. Not just to save weight, but because at the kinda speeds we'll be going, airbags won't do anything for us of we crash. I've been doing this for months, and I consider myself an expert driver, but even experts make mistakes. So if you're not prepared for the possibility that you might die tonight, you should get out of the car right now."

Lien was a little shocked at Tristan's sudden bluntness, but she had to appreciate his honesty. She knew the dangers of street racing as well as anyone in Jade City. She knew the sheer foolishness of what she was about to do. But Lien didn't care, because she wanted to do this. Somehow, even just the thought of it excited her. No matter how dangerous it may be, she didn't want to back down now. "I'm ready," she said.

Tristan nodded, and gripped the steering wheel tightly, the turbocharged engine revving aggressively. "Then buckle up," he said.

Lien swiftly began putting on the racing harness. As she did so, a fresh wave of adrenaline washed over her, but also a fresh wave of nervousness, both brought on by the realisation that there truly was no turning back now. "You'll be gentle, right?" she asked suddenly, looking Tristan in the eye. "After all... it's my first time."

Tristan nodded. "First time for everything," he said. "I'll be as smooth as I can." With that, Tristan put his foot to the floor, and in a squeal of burning tires, the Skyline was gone.

Day 192

[from Street Racer]

As Lien and Tristan raced back towards the latter's apartment, weaving frantically in and out of the traffic, Lien couldn't help recalling the first time that she had met Tristan…

SIX MONTHS AGO

DISUSED TRAIN DEPOT

Lien couldn't help being curious about the street races. Here in Jade City, they were everywhere. Every other day, you would hear about another race that had taken place. People would discuss how they'd seen the brightly-coloured racers fly past them on the street, or heard their windows rattle as the turbocharged engines roared past their houses. Lien herself had seen them from time to time: a Sileighty drifting through the suburbs, pursued by a Mazda MX-5; three cars that had roared past her on the freeway, going too fast for her to see what they were; a yellow-and-black Camaro cruising the streets, looking for action.

Tonight, she was finally going to see the street racers up close for herself. Her friend, Charlotte, had gotten word of a drag race going down at an abandoned train depot on the outskirts of the industrial district. A mile-long section of abandoned railway had been torn up and turned into an impromptu drag strip, perfect for racing away from the eyes of the police. Charlotte had invited Lien to come with her, and the two girls were soon approaching the track.

"Now, let me go over a few things with you again," said Charlotte. "First off, these guys are high on testosterone, and most of 'em are sexed-up jerks. If one on 'em tries touching you or something, you have to assert yourself-"

"Geez, I don't need you to tell me that," said Lien. "I know how to handle myself around guys, don't worry about that."

"Well, just don't try kicking them in the balls," Charlotte remarked. "These guys have cajones made of steel. Which brings me on to the second thing: keeping safe during the race. Basically… don't worry about it. Doesn't matter how far back you stand, if one of those things loses control at the kinda speeds they'll be going at, you won't be able to get out of the way. Don't worry about earplugs either; by the time you've put 'em in, the race will be over."

"You know, you're not exactly making this sound like the hottest ticket in town right now," said Lien.

"Yeah, but you're still coming anyway, right?" said Charlotte. "You've been bitten by the street racing bug. You're not gonna turn back now no matter what I tell you."

Lien nodded. "You're not wrong," she admitted. "I know it's dangerous, not to mention highly illegal, but…"

"-you still wanna check it out." Charlotte finished the sentence for Lien. "I understand. It was the same for me when I first got into this. It's not just the racing itself, it's the thrill of it all: the illegality, the secrecy. It gives me a rush. I'm sure you'll feel it too."

"I'm sure I will," said Lien.

Before long, the two girls had reached the abandoned depot, and the makeshift start line. Already there were five cars present, their drivers milling with the spectators and with each other. The race order had not been sorted out yet, and with little chance of the police turning up, there would likely be multiple races to look forward to. As they approached, Charlotte nudged Lien and pointed out an orange-and-black Nissan 370Z. "See that?" she said. "That's the guy everyone wants to beat: Jason Diaz. He owns the scene around here."

"What about the rest of these guys?" asked Lien.

Charlotte pointed at a yellow-and-blue Ford Mustang. "That's Bouncer," she said. "He's Jason's number two. Try and get in his way and you'll have him to answer to." Next, she pointed at a dark green Pontiac GTO. "That's Vincent. I've seen him around a couple of times, he's nothing special." Then, she pointed at a blue-and-white Nissan Skyline GT-R. "That," she said, "is Tristan Starr. He's a new guy, from outta town, but he's really damn good."

"What about the fifth car?" asked Lien.

"Dunno who that is," said Charlotte with a shrug.

"I think there's another car coming in," said Lien, as a distant roar signalled another approaching racer.

"I see 'em," said Charlotte. "That's a… not sure. Impreza, maybe? Yeah, that's definitely an Impreza. No idea who's driving it, though. Sorry."

Lien shrugged. "How many more do you think are gonna turn up?"

"Not sure," said Charlotte. "There's not long until the racing's scheduled to start, so this might be it."

Sure enough, no more racers arrived, and as the drivers began to discuss the race format amongst themselves, Lien wandered off by herself to take a closer look at the cars. The Mustang looked to her like it would be the fastest car, but if it belonged to Jason's "number two", then she suspected he might try and throw the race in Jason's favour. She hoped this wouldn't be the case, as she'd been looking forward to a good race for days, but she knew that a lot of street racers had bad reputations, and Jason and Bouncer were certainly no exceptions.

In terms of appearances, Lien wasn't entirely sure if she liked the loud, ostentatious looks of the cars, now that she was up close to them. All six cars had flashy body kits, large rear spoilers, and bright neon strips on the underside. Most of them also had spinners, tinted windows, and unnecessarily loud stereo systems; the sole exception was Tristan's Skyline, which had none of these things. While the other drivers seemed to have built their cars for show, Tristan seemed to have built his for racing. The only question was whether it would be fast enough to beat the Mustang.

"Nice car, isn't it?"

Lien jumped at the sudden voice. She hadn't heard Tristan Starr approaching. Looking at him, she couldn't help noticing that he was rather handsome. "Uhh… yes. Yes, it is," she said.

"I gotta get racing now, though, so, uhh… if you don't mind…"

"Oh, yes, of course." Lien started to head towards the finish line, then turned back and waved to Tristan. "Good luck," she called out.

"Thanks," said Tristan, before getting into his car.

Since six racers had shown up, the drivers had agreed on an elimination format. There would be two heats of three cars each, and the winners of each heat would face off in a winner-takes-all duel. The first heat was about to begin, and consisted of Tristan, Bouncer, and the Impreza driver. This all but confirmed Lien's suspicions: Bouncer would try and knock Tristan out in the heats, then let Jason win the final head-to-head and take the spoils. Despite having only known him for five minutes, Lien found herself hoping that Tristan would crash the party and win the race.

By the time Lien reached the finish line, the racers had already started revving their engines. She was now a little tired from having walked so much, but nonetheless she eagerly anticipated the start of the race. From this distance, she could barely see the cars at the start line, but she knew they were there, ready to start.

In the distance, a loud rumble signalled that the race had begun. The tiny dots on the horizon swiftly grew larger and larger, and Lien leaned forward expectantly, waiting to see who would emerge from the darkness in the lead…

Day 143

[from Street Racer]

By the time Tristan crossed the finish line on the fourth and final lap, he was at least five seconds ahead of Alyssa in second place. T-Bone was a second further back, and by the time Michael crossed the finish line, the other three drivers had already braked to a standstill, parked at the side of the road, and exited their vehicles.

T-Bone made a beeline straight for Tristan, seemingly impressed. "That was pretty good racing," he said. "I see the hype about you was true, man."

Tristan coolly nodded. "Thanks," he said. I could've gone faster, though, he thought.

Alyssa looked a little less pleased about the result, but congratulated Tristan nonetheless. "If I'm gonna come second, at least it was to you," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Nice driving."

As Michael finally pulled up nearby, the attention of the other two racers turned to the loser.  "Oh, there you are, man!" said T-Bone, as Michael reluctantly buzzed his window down. "I thought you'd gotten lost or something!"

"I did say I'm new to this-" said Michael defensively.

"Then ya shoulda picked on someone your own size, shouldn't ya, punk?" said T-Bone. "Go on now, run along home to mommy. We ain't got time for losers like you."

Michael obligingly buzzed his window back up and drove off, a sour expression on his face. Tristan did not partake in the smack talk enjoyed by many of Jade City's street racers, nor did he particularly like hearing it. However, the affairs and arguments of the city's other racers were not his concern. He wasn't there to get involved with people's alliances or rivalries. He was only there to race, win, and earn money.

On that note, one of the girls who had been standing at the finish line headed over to Tristan and handed him a wad of cash. "Here you go," she said, smiling. "You earned it."

Tristan quickly rifled through the bills to check that all $4,000 was there. It was. Each racer had put in $1,000 prior to the race, with all the money going to the victor. In street racing, there were no prizes just for turning up; you either won, or went home empty-handed. Tristan did not go home empty-handed very often.

"A'ight, we'd better get outta here before the cops show up," said Alyssa. "You got any plans, Tristan?"

"Not really," said Tristan. "Probably gonna just head home and celebrate." To his right, he could head T-Bone climbing back into his Corvette and revving up the engine.

"You could go up the club with us and celebrate," suggested Alyssa. "With Lien, of course."

"You know I'm not really a clubbing person," said Tristan.

Alyssa sighed. "You're so boring, Tristan," she said. "Come on, live a little. When you're on the edge of death every night, you gotta live a little, ain't ya?"

"I prefer not to think about the death part," said Tristan bluntly.

Alyssa shook her head, smirking. "You're always thinking ahead to that pro career, aren't ya?" she said, amused. "You don't care about the here and now, you're just looking forward to that NASCAR drive, or whatever."

"It's why I'm here, after all," said Tristan. "I don't wanna think that there's a chance I might not get it."

"Well, like it or not, that's the case, Tristan," said Alyssa. "Not everybody makes it outta this scene alive, y' know."

This conversation was abruptly halted by the arrival of Lien, throwing an arm around Tristan's shoulders. "What's up, you guys?" she asked cheerily. "Nice win, Tristan." She give him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a faint trace of lip gloss on his skin. "So, shouldn't we be getting out of here?"

"Yeah, we were just discussing where to head off to," said Alyssa. "Tristan wants to go home, I said why not go up the club?"

"If Tristan wants to go home, why not let him?" said Lien. "He can go to the club some other day."

"A'ight, I guess," said Alyssa, before turning to address Tristan directly. "But that's a promise, y'hear me? You're comin' up the club with me someday, and I'mma hold you to that."

"Yeah, okay, sure," said Tristan, shrugging.

"Good," said Alyssa. "So, what about you, Lien? What are you doin' for the rest of the night?"

"I was thinking I might go home with Tristan," said Lien, hugging herself closer against him. "Help him… celebrate."

I don't know why I bothered asking, thought Alyssa. "A'ight, you two go enjoy yourselves, then," she said. "I'll be headin' off now, there's strawberry tequilas with my name on 'em. Peace." Waving goodbye briefly, Alyssa headed back towards her car.

"You shouldn't drink and drive, you know," said Tristan. "Especially not in a car that fast. God knows what'd happen if you hit something."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Alyssa, as she climbed into the driver's seat. "You ain't my momma. I'll go easy this time, okay?"

"On the drinks or the driving?" asked Tristan.

"Both, if I can help it," said Alyssa. Closing the suicide door behind her, she buckled up and accelerated off down the street. By now, almost everyone who had gathered for the race had already disappeared, leaving Tristan and Lien all alone at the side of the road.

Lien turned to Tristan and smirked. "Race you to your apartment?" she asked.

Tristan returned the smile. "What do I get if I win?" he asked.

"Don't you ever just race for fun sometimes?" asked Lien.

"Oh, is that what we're racing for?" asked Tristan.

"Well, if you insist…" Lien leaned in and whispered something into Tristan's ear.

"And if I don't win?" asked Tristan.

"Then you get nothing," said Lien.

"Sounds good to me," said Tristan. "We go on the green light, okay?"

Lien nodded and headed back to her own car, an ostentatious pink-and-black Audi TT, while Tristan got back into his beloved Nissan Skyline. The two drivers pulled up at the nearest set of traffic lights and glanced over at each other, grinning as they prepared for battle. The light turned amber, then green, and with a deafening squeal of tires, the two cars roared off into the night.

Day 126

[from Street Racer]

The girl raised her hands high in the air, scanning the start line to make sure that all the competitors were ready. A moment later, her arms sliced downwards through the air, and the four cars screamed into life in an explosion of torque and tyre smoke as the race began. The cars accelerated straight past her and roared off towards the first corner, leaving nothing in their wake except a faint haze of smoke and a set of jet-black tyre marks on the worn asphalt.

Tristan and T-Bone had gotten the best starts off the line, with Alyssa just behind, and Michael already a car's length behind as they reached the first bend, a 45-degree right-hander. Since the run to the first bend had been so short, and the angle of the corner was so shallow, the drivers merely had to lift off the throttle to make it through on this occasion. Tristan had the inside line, and so had the fastest route through the corner, with T-Bone forced out wide. As they headed down the long straight, Tristan was ahead.

Halfway down the straight, the group encountered a traffic car heading in the same direction. All four spotted it in more than enough time to scramble out of the way, roaring past as they carried on. Some nights the traffic was worse than others; on nights when the roads were totally gridlocked, racing was impossible. Rumour had it that the city government were considering intentionally causing traffic jams at night, as a last-resort method of preventing street races from taking place. Tonight, however, the traffic seemed nice and sparse. Perfect for racing.

The next corner was a 90-degree right-hander, at a four-way intersection. Corners at intersections were tricky, as there was always the risk of meeting a traffic car coming the other way as you rounded the corner, and you wouldn't see them coming until it was too late. Some street racers liked to throw the back end out and drift round corners like this, giving them greater visibility and more of a chance of dodging any such cars. Tristan's car wasn't set up for drifting, though, so instead he simply braked hard and steered the car normally through the corner, taking a sweeping racing line just like a professional driver would use. Behind him he could hear a squealing of tyres as Alyssa customarily drifted round the corner, though on this occasion it was perfectly safe; the straight beyond was entirely deserted.

This nest straight had a little left-hand kink towards the end, leading into another 90-degree right-hander. If you positioned your car carefully as it went through the kink, you could cut down the angle of the right-hander and carry a lot more speed through it. However, as he approached the kink, Tristan noticed a traffic car heading through the right-hander in the opposite direction, turning onto the straight he was coming down. It was going to be right in the middle of the corner as he went through it, messing up his racing line.

Tristan made sure to keep well out of the way of the traffic car as he braked for the right-hander, but had to take a much wider line than he would have liked. This, coupled with the straight-line speed of T-Bone's Corvette, meant that T-Bone was just able to poke his nose in front as they raced down the next straight. What was more, T-Bone now had the inside line for the next set of corners, at a large roundabout.

Undeterred, Tristan braked late and attempted an overtake around the outside as they turned right onto the roundabout. T-Bone, however, misjudged the corner and oversteered wide, sliding into the side of Tristan's car. Tristan's right-hand wing mirror was smashed off, the bodywork scratched slightly. An easy fix, and nothing worth worrying about. Unlike a lot of other street racers, Tristan wasn't particularly bothered about cosmetic damage to his car: it was mechanical damage that worried him.

The drivers came upon the first exit remarkably quickly, and were almost flat-out as they turned through it, emerging onto a short straight before a left-hander. T-Bone held a marginal lead now, but Tristan had the inside line for the next corner. Once again he braked late, forcing T-Bone wide. This time T-Bone was forced to mount the pavement, narrowly missing a lamp-post and having to slow down to avoid crashing into the buildings adjacent to the street. Now the advantage was back with Tristan, and Alyssa was right on T-Bone's heel. Michael was still at the roundabout, having already fallen some way behind the leading three.

Dodging round another traffic car, the group made its way through another right-hander, then another. Now they were immediately confronted with the track's most difficult feature - two sweeping 180-degree bends, first a left-hander, then a right-hander that brought them back to the finish line. Tristan felt sure that his car's superior handling would give him the advantage here, and sure enough he was able to brake a little later than T-Bone or Alyssa and gently feather the throttle as he made his way round the corner, keeping his speed up.

All three drivers took a wider line through the first of the hairpins, staying out of the oncoming lanes for fear of meeting a car coming the other way. This proved to be a sensible move, for as Tristan exited the corner he met a car going the other way, entering the hairpin he had just left. He and the two drivers behind him were well clear of it, and swiftly turned their attentions to the right-hand hairpin. This time the inside line was away from the oncoming lanes, and the drivers were able to take the turn at a more favourable speed.

Exiting the second hairpin brought them onto the start/finish straight, with the other street racers gathered at the side of the road to watch. Lien waved excitedly to Tristan as he accelerated over the line to start the second of the four laps. Tristan did not notice her, his eyes remaining on the road in front of him. He needed to focus. On these tight streets, with traffic all around, you couldn't lower your concentration for even a second. A single mistake here could cost you a lot more than just the race.

Day 106

[from Street Racer]

As his fingers curled around the steering wheel of his heavily-modified Nissan Skyline GT-R, Tristan Starr glanced one more time at the smartphone hooked up to the central console. A map of Jade City was displayed on the screen, with the circuit they would be driving laid out upon it in a thick white line. Tristan's green eyes scoured the route, committing as much of it to memory as possible. Once the race began, he would be driving at such high speeds that taking his eyes off the road to check where we was going, even for a second, could spell disaster. He wasn't going to get caught out by such a rookie mistake.

This route map had been created using an app that was ostensibly for mapping out jogging routines, but had been co-opted by the city's sizeable street-racing scene as a means of sharing routes between drivers. The Jade City Police Department were trying to pressure the app stores into pulling the app, but of course they couldn't stop people who already had the apps from using it, and whenever it was removed, two identical ones popped up. The police were fighting a battle against the racers that they seemingly could not win.

Tonight there was yet another street race on. It was a four-lap race, around a short three-kilometre track in the centre of the city. The four contestants were already lined up on the road, with a crowd of several dozen gathered on the sidewalk to watch the action. The roads around were mostly deserted; the city's residents had learned to anticipate when the street races would be taking place, and to stay away from the roads as much as possible during those times. Of course, this would also alert the police, so the group would have to complete the race and disperse as quickly as possible. While they were all gathered together like this, they were much easier to catch than when they were spread all over the city.

 Tristan was the third car along on the starting grid, with two competitors to his left and one to his right.  On his far-left was the modified black-and-yellow Hyundai Genesis Coupe of his friend Alyssa Dalton, one of the first racers he had befriended upon his arrival to Jade City. She'll be the biggest challenge. Between Tristan and Alyssa was a sky-blue-and-black Chevrolet Corvette, driven by a man calling himself T-Bone whom Tristan had heard of but had never driven against before. His car looks faster than it is. Finally, on Tristan's right was a jet-black Ford Focus ST driven by a man named Michael, who appeared to be a newcomer. Not a chance.

The sound of the revving engines and the smell of petrol and tyre smoke filled the air, mixed in with the taste of the cigarette that smouldered gently between Tristan's lips. He knew it was a lethal habit, not to mention an expensive one, and that if he ever achieved his goal of funding a professional racing career, he would have to give it up. He would probably have to give up smoking as well. But he was addicted to them both; the nicotine rush of the cigarettes, and the adrenaline rush of street racing. The drugs coursed through his body, energizing him. They made him feel alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan could see a girl in a leather jacket and skirt stepping out into the road. He didn't know her name, but she was the lover of one of the various other street racers who had shown up to watch the race. Tonight, she would be acting as the race starter. Tristan kept half an eye on her progress, but his gaze remained mainly focused on the road in front of him. It wasn’t too far to the first corner, and whoever came out of that corner in first place would have the firm advantage. The start was absolutely crucial.

The girl stopped in the exact centre of the road, between Tristan and T-Bone's cars, and the revving of the engines reached a deafening crescendo as the competitors prepared to race. Tristan's eyes flicked downwards for a split second to check that he was revving at the optimal range, for the best possible start off the line. At the side of the track, another girl stood with a digital stopwatch, ready to measure the drivers' times, while Lien Wei, a female friend of Tristan's, was stationed at a tripod video camera that was aligned precisely with the finish line. There had been enough disputes over photo finishes in the past that such a precaution was now seen as a necessity.

The girl raised her hands high in the air, scanning the start/finish line to make sure that all the competitors were ready. A moment later, her arms sliced downwards through the air, and the four cars screamed into life in an explosion of torque and tyre smoke as the race began. The cars accelerated straight past her and roared off towards the first corner, leaving nothing in their wake except a faint haze of smoke and a set of jet-black tyre marks on the worn asphalt.

Day 43

[from Street Racer]

JADE CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT

INCIDENT REPORT: DATED 12TH FEBRUARY 2015

Another major street-racing incident occurred two days ago in the industrial area of the city. After talking to witnesses and examining CCTV footage from the area, we have put together this approximate timeline of the events that occurred.

At approximately 6:13pm on February 10th 2015, an orange-and-black Nissan 350Z driven by a man believed to be known street racer Jason Diaz parked outside an industrial unit in the Bronson Flats industrial complex. He left his car and began making phone calls, and at 6:15pm, while he was still on the phone, a red-and-white Audi TT, driven by an unidentified white male in his mid-20s, parked up alongside him. The driver of the TT exited his vehicle, and after a brief conversation with Diaz, the two men both began making phone calls.

Over the next 45 minutes, a number of individuals, some of whom have been identified as known members of the street-racing scene and many of whom were driving heavily-modified imports, gathered at the location of Diaz and the unknown male. These included a female thought to be Diaz' girlfriend, Tara St. Clair, driving a green-and-white Mazda MX-5, a female who has since been identified as 23-year-old Morgan Smith, driving a blue Subaru Impreza, and a known associate of Diaz known only to the JCPD as "Bouncer", driving a yellow-and-black Ford Mustang. Investigations into Bouncer's identity are currently ongoing.

At approximately 7:01pm, those gathered at the site began to prepare for an illegal street race. Witnesses report that the race was to be three laps of a makeshift street circuit through the Bronson Flats complex. At around this time, Diaz and St. Clair were seen arguing, reportedly regarding whether or not St. Clair was to compete in the race. St. Clair was then seen briefly arguing with the driver of the Audi TT, before Diaz led her away and spoke to the man himself. The subject of their discussion is not currently known.

By 7:16pm, Diaz, Bouncer, Smith, and the red-and-white Audi driver had paid their entrance fees and lined up at the start/finish line. St. Clair stood at the roadside holding a chequered flag, alongside an unidentified Asian female using her smartphone as a stopwatch. At precisely 7:18pm, St. Clair waved the chequered flag and the race began.

Early on the first lap, the Audi driver had a minor collision with Diaz and span, leaving him several seconds behind the other racers. By the start of the second lap, Bouncer was in the lead, with Smith and Diaz shortly behind.

At some point during the second lap, as Diaz attempted to pass Smith on a straightaway, the front-left side of Diaz' car clipped the right-rear side of Smith's, causing the latter to lose control and spin at an estimated speed of 120 miles per hour. Smith's car then struck a tree at the side of the road head-on at approximately 100 miles per hour, before bouncing back into the road where it was then struck by the Audi, who had braked and swerved but been unable to avoid it. Smith is thought to have been killed immediately upon the initial impact with the tree, and was taken to hospital where she was pronounced dead on arrival. Although the Audi was also damaged significantly by the impact, the driver reportedly escaped with only minor injuries and was able to continue the race.

Once it became apparent to those present that Smith had been killed, the race was swiftly abandoned and most of those gathered had dispersed by the time the emergency services had arrived. It is thought that Diaz and Bouncer kept the prize pool for themselves despite the race's abandonment. Of the witnesses that we spoke to, two believed that Diaz' collision with Smith had been deliberate, and one also believed that his collision with the Audi driver had also been deliberate. This is consistent with several previous reports of races involving Diaz, in which he has resorted to shockingly dangerous tactics when not in the lead. Sadly, with Diaz' current whereabouts unknown, and with little or no evidence to prove that the crash was deliberate, we are unable to obtain a warrant for Diaz' arrest, although he remains wanted in connection with this and numerous other street racing incidents over the past eighteen months.