The night settled over Tokyo, city lights flickering like neon stars. Outside Robinson's apartment, a black sports car purred quietly at the curb. The engine hummed low, sleek and deadly.
Arai sat behind the wheel, one arm resting on the door, tapping the side rhythmically. He looked up as Robinson stepped out, wearing a denim jacket over a dark tee. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes sharp.
Arai:
"Get in. There's something you need to see."
Robinson slid into the passenger seat without question. No helmets — just wind, speed, and instincts.
Arai stepped on the gas. The car surged forward, slicing through the city like a knife. Tokyo's vibrant chaos blurred past them—billboards, headlights, reflections on the wet pavement.
Robinson:
"Where are we going?"
Arai:
"Somewhere between 'not far' and 'you'll see.' You need to understand what you've stepped into."
Robinson glanced at him, then back out the window, the city lights streaking across the glass.
Arai:
"You've noticed, haven't you? People looking at you differently since you got here?"
Robinson:
"If you mean girls, I'm not exactly complaining."
Arai smirked.
"Not just girls. People here talk. They know who you are. Paul's kid. The guy tied to Zero Divide's downfall. You don't just walk into Tokyo clean."
Robinson:
"What are you trying to say? That I'm being watched?"
Arai:
"Maybe. Or maybe… you're the next piece in the game."
They took a sharp turn into a darker part of the city. A massive flyover loomed above, and they pulled through an open gate into a dimly lit warehouse district.
Robinson leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening.
Rows of high-end sports cars were parked. Small groups of people stood around, some laughing, others whispering. The energy here felt different — tighter, colder.
Arai (killing the engine):
"This place is called Redshift. Not a crew. Not a gang. Think of it like… an underground network. You don't find it unless you're invited."
Robinson got out of the car, taking in the scene. He leaned slightly toward Arai and muttered:
Robinson:
"These guys… act like they're too cool to blink."
Arai (grinning):
"Then maybe it's time you show them how a New York ghost plays the game."
Just then, a woman in a red leather jacket called Arai over with a gesture. Meanwhile, a man with dark shades and an authoritative stance stepped up to face the gathered drivers.
Boss:
"Tonight is not a race. It's a selection."
His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.
Boss:
"There's a package. One job. Heavy cargo, single run. No room for mistakes. Whoever brings it back… moves up."
He scanned the crowd, eyes landing on each driver, including Robinson.
Boss (calmly):
"Let's see what you've got."
Robinson looked over at Arai, who gave him a faint nod. Robinson didn't speak—but the fire in his eyes said enough.
The game in Tokyo had officially begun.
The area near the abandoned warehouse was getting quiet. Most of the cars had already left. Robinson stood by the edge of the lot, his thoughts still spinning from what Arai and the others had told him.
Suddenly—
someone appeared in the distance, standing near an old streetlamp, half-hidden in the shadows.
The figure wasn't moving. Just watching.
Robinson narrowed his eyes.
Robinson (muttering):
"...Who the hell is that?"
Without thinking, he started walking quickly through the rows of parked cars and shipping containers.
The figure turned and walked away.
Robinson chased him, boots thudding against the pavement. He slipped between alley-like gaps in the dim light.
Then—
WHOOSH!
A hand grabbed Robinson, pulling him violently into a narrow space between two containers. He almost stumbled.
Robinson:
"Hey! What the—?!"
A gloved hand covered his mouth for a second, then let go.
In front of him stood a man in a gray jacket, partial face covering, and sharp eyes.
Stranger (calmly):
"I'm sent by your grandfather. This isn't the time to be wandering alone."
Robinson (still catching his breath):
"My grandfather? Who the hell are you?! You don't just grab someone like that!"
The man tossed something toward him.
A black card with a silver wing emblem.
The same symbol from Race Vault.
Stranger:
"I'm tasked with watching over you. And I've got a message from your grandfather…"
He leaned closer, voice lower but firm.
"Go home. Tonight. Don't be out like this. I detected someone else nearby… someone dangerous. Not Race Vault. Could be Zero Divide—or worse."
Robinson stood still, heart pounding.
There was something about this man. He wasn't bluffing.
Robinson (exhaling):
"If they're after me… maybe I shouldn't run. Maybe it's time I figured out who they are."
Stranger (looking straight at him):
"If they catch you now… everything your grandfather and your father built will fall apart."
Robinson looked down for a moment, then nodded reluctantly.
Robinson:
"Fine. Just tonight. But tomorrow… no promises."
The man smirked under the mask.
Stranger:
"Spoken like Paul's kid."
They stepped out of the shadows. Robinson pulled out his phone and ordered a ride home.
Still, as he stood waiting by the street, he couldn't shake the feeling in his gut.
The Tokyo sky glowed orange as the sun dipped low. Students poured out of the school gate, chatting loudly—until the energy shifted.
Three figures stood outside the gate.
A stunning girl with long hair—Cassandra. On either side of her stood Daryl and Zashiro.
All three wore effortlessly cool, casual outfits—clearly not from around here.
Whispers spread immediately.
"Who are they?"
"That girl… isn't she Robinson's girlfriend?"
"Whoa… they look like they came out of a movie."
Robinson, just exiting the building with his backpack slung over one shoulder, froze mid-step. His eyes widened when he saw them.
Robinson:
"…What are you all doing here?"
Cassandra didn't answer—she just walked right up to him. Her expression was soft, eyes filled with emotion.
Then, without hesitation, she grabbed his shoulders, leaned in—
—and kissed him.
Quick. Soft. Intimate. Enough to make the entire gate explode with gasps.
Cassandra (whispering near his face):
"I missed you so much, Rob… and now, there's no reason to run anymore."
Robinson blinked, caught off guard. A blush crept onto his face, but he gave a small, stunned smile.
Zashiro (crossing his arms):
"Alright, enough drama. Get in the car. We're going for a ride. Also, we're stopping by my family's house. They want to meet you."
Robinson:
"Zash… I can't be home too late. Arai's probably tracking me, and my grandfather's people might pop out of nowhere."
Daryl (grinning, nudging him):
"Bro, it's just a little drive. I promise we'll keep it clean. I mean, you took on a Tokyo gang—don't tell me you're scared of a babysitter?"
Robinson chuckled softly.
"Fine. But if I get kidnapped, you're all responsible."
Cassandra (taking his hand):
"If anyone tries that, I'll take them down myself."
They walked to the sleek black sports car parked nearby.
The engine hummed low. Robinson slid into the passenger seat, eyes on the glowing city streets ahead…
but this time, the ride didn't feel so lonely.
The people he cared about were back.
The low hum of the sports car's engine filled the night air as Tokyo's city lights streaked past the windows. It was a calm yet vibrant evening.
Inside the car, Daryl was in the back seat, and as usual—he wouldn't stop talking.
Daryl (nudging Cassandra, who was in the front passenger seat):
"Yo, did you see that girl at the bus stop? She was totally checking me out. Tokyo's got style, but I still got that global charm."
Cassandra (shaking her head):
"If you'd shut up for five minutes, the world might actually find peace."
Daryl (fixing his hair in the rearview mirror):
"I swear, I need to start a vlog—'Daryl in Tokyo'. Imagine this handsome face right in the middle of Shibuya. Instant viral."
Robinson smirked faintly, sitting up front next to Zashiro, who was focused on the road as always—cool and in control.
Robinson:
"Wait, don't you guys have school? How are you even here?"
Zashiro (calmly, without looking away):
"School's on a short break. Cultural festival week. We took advantage of the timing."
Cassandra (turning slightly toward Robinson):
"We've been planning this. Just waiting for the right moment. And once we heard your memories were back… we booked the next flight."
Daryl:
"I even faked a study tour excuse to my dad. Told him I was going to Kyoto for 'education'. Truth is—studying you, bro!"
Robinson (chuckling):
"You guys are insane… but I'm glad you're here."
Cassandra:
"So are we. You're not alone in this, Rob. We're not leaving you to face any of it alone."
Zashiro:
"And now that you've gotten involved with Race Vault, you'll likely be pulled deeper. Better we strengthen the team early."
Daryl (peering out the window):
"So when's our first underground race, huh? I wanna see that Japanese ride of yours fly."
Robinson (leaning back in his seat):
"Easy, Dar. Tokyo's dark side hasn't really started yet… but tonight might just be the beginning."
Zashiro (with a small smirk):
"Get ready. My family's house is just up ahead."
As the bright lights faded into the distance, they entered a quieter, upscale traditional neighborhood.
A new chapter in Japan—was just beginning.
Sunlight crept softly through the window blinds. The Tokyo morning was fresh, but inside the apartment, it looked like a battlefield of sleep.
Cassandra was still asleep on the bed, her hair slightly messy, her face calm and peaceful.
Robinson, Daryl, and Zashiro were sprawled out on a floor mattress, wrapped in blankets like leftovers from a long night.
Robinson slowly opened his eyes.
He stretched a bit, yawned, then sat up. His gaze immediately went toward the bed—toward Cassandra.
She looked serene. Something about seeing her like that made his chest feel a little lighter.
Suddenly…
📱📞 His phone vibrated.
A call from Arai.
Robinson picked up, voice groggy:
"Yeah? What's up?"
Arai (on the other end):
"You promised to train drifting this morning, remember? I'm already at the lot. Bring your friends if they're alive."
Robinson sighed, ending the call.
He muttered to himself:
"Guess it's time to get moving…"
Then—with zero patience—he kicked Zashiro's back lightly.
Robinson:
"Wake up, Shiro. You wanna end up stale like old rice?"
Zashiro (mumbling half-asleep):
"Huh… tires… sharp left turn…"
Robinson elbowed Daryl harder.
Robinson:
"You too, Dar. Stop dreaming about marrying a Japanese idol."
Daryl (half-opening his eyes):
"Dude, what time even is it…"
With the two now grumbling and sitting up, Robinson looked up at the bed.
He climbed gently beside Cassandra, sitting at the edge. He stared at her for a moment before speaking softly.
Robinson (in a quiet voice):
"Cass… time to get up. We've got training."
Cassandra shifted slowly, her eyes barely opening.
Cassandra:
"It's already morning…?"
Robinson grinned:
"Yeah. And I need my beautiful co-driver next to me when I drift."
Cassandra smirked, still sleepy:
"Flirting this early, huh? Alright… give me a minute to fix my face."
Robinson hopped down, turning to Daryl and Zashiro.
Robinson:
"Let's go. If we're late, Arai might throw cones at our heads."
Zashiro (rubbing his temple):
"I dreamed my car could talk…"
Daryl (putting on his jacket):
"I dreamed we were being chased by cops. That better not be foreshadowing."
They all laughed tiredly as they started getting ready.
This drift training?
It wasn't going to be just any training.
Something was waiting for them on that track.