Louis Elvis.
Once, he had been a brilliant young man with the world opening before him. He attended elite schools, skipped two grades, and still stood at the top. Tall and naturally elegant, he looked almost princely no matter what he wore. His starting point had been perfect, and since childhood, he had carried one goal: to surpass his father.
His father's business empire would become even more magnificent in his hands. Brighter, stronger, unstoppable.
By eighteen, he was already the star of every high-class social gathering. Young women from wealthy families sent him admiring glances, and he never failed to meet their expectations.
Then, on a night when he was nineteen, everything changed.
The flawless life Louis should have had was shoved into the mud and dragged down into the abyss.
A Ferrari Enzo painted a blazing red tore down the road like a flame given shape.
The famous machine roared with a voice worthy of its name. Heavy metal thundered through the cabin, scraping at the nerves instead of the classical music he had once loved, music with age and history in it.
The young man behind the wheel wore the dazed look of someone drowning in empty luxury. He had pushed the sound system to its limit and buried himself in that chaotic flood of noise.
One hand gripped the wheel, controlling the violent car on its own. The other held a Cuban cigar with lazy ease. Thick smoke filled the cabin, mingling with the smell of alcohol.
The woman in the passenger seat seemed drunk on the speed and recklessness too. She held a glass of red wine and kept trying to bring it to his lips.
The Louis of the past would have looked down on this kind of reckless driving on a public road. Now, he was happy to sink into that comfortable trap, even knowing it was where fallen heroes went to die.
The shining elite who had once burned with ambition had collapsed into a life of killing time, using money and pleasure to fill the hollow place inside him.
He turned his head to drink from the glass she offered, then leaned in and kissed her cheek and smooth neck without restraint.
At that speed, it was the same as throwing safety away.
But most of it came from confidence.
Even like this, he could still judge his own condition. With his talent and technique, there was no way he would fail to tame the Enzo at this speed.
Once, driving and business had been the two pillars of his life.
As the Enzo raced beneath him, a faint trace of bitterness surfaced deep in his clouded eyes. But he threw it away almost immediately. The woman whispered at his ear. He knew exactly what she wanted from him. The old him would never have wasted time on someone so shallow.
But now he had no friends.
No goal.
In the end, he could only borrow warmth from people like this.
"Fugui, about that Fenshiyalan jewelry you promised..."
The woman lightly stroked his strong arm, turning on her charm at just the right moment.
Wang Fugui was the Chinese name he had used while studying in China. He had gone to many countries to learn and broaden his experience. What he had never imagined was that China would become the grave of all his effort.
Hearing that name from her seemed to drag up an unpleasant memory. Irritation crossed his face.
"I'll give you the whole store if you want it. But don't try to be clever, woman. After tonight, I don't want you clinging to me again."
He had meant to keep her around for a few more days.
Now he was done.
The woman seemed to realize she had stepped on something she should not have touched. She nodded awkwardly. Even so, she had already gained more than enough.
"Hmph."
Louis exhaled smoke and narrowed his eyes at the curve ahead. Without lowering his speed, he snapped the wheel one-handed. The force of the turn slammed the unprepared woman back into her seat. All she saw was the road swinging through a perfect arc, and all she heard was the clean, almost artistic scream of tires against asphalt.
It was a drift so natural it seemed carved into his bones. The fact that he dared to do it on a public road showed just how arrogant his confidence had become.
Strangely, there were no other cars anywhere ahead or behind him. Only the red shadow of the Enzo cut across the highway. On any normal day, that would have been impossible. The scenery outside the windows barely changed, and the road seemed to stretch on forever. The Enzo had been running for a while, yet the next area never came.
Was this road always this long?
The doubt flickered through him, but he let it go. A highway where he alone could run. What a luxury. Louis gave a cold laugh and pressed harder on the accelerator, making the Enzo even wilder.
Gradually, under the speed and his arrogant cornering, the woman beside him began to shrink back. She stopped trying to tease him.
Louis stared at the road ahead and let his skill speak for itself. But the more impressive his driving became, the deeper his frown grew.
His Enzo was perfect.
His technique was perfect.
So why had he lost so badly that he could not even stand back up?
All that remained was shame and fear, still clinging to him like a shadow.
His breathing quickened before he noticed it. He glanced at the rearview mirror. There was nothing behind him, of course. Only the flat road. Reality steadied him for a moment, but the drowning feeling of being chased down step by step was still there.
That was the curse that had kept him from moving forward.
Agitated by its master, the Enzo pushed faster and faster, attacking one curve after another.
The woman was already frightened.
"Fu-Fugui... aren't we going a little too fast?"
"Shut up," Louis said coldly.
This was not even his full strength. All this time spent fallen and stagnant had dulled him. A driver did not need women, and now he had broken that rule himself.
"I-it's not safe," she said weakly.
"There are no other cars. What, do you think I'll crash into a guardrail or a cliff wall on my own? Are you mocking my skill?"
"There is another car. Behind us..."
What?
He had checked earlier. There had been nothing. After that, he had accelerated with everything he had. Was there really someone who could come from outside his sight and catch up to him at this speed?
His breathing grew rough again. That helpless feeling of being driven into a corner rose in his chest. Louis snapped his eyes to the mirror.
And froze.
Far behind him, a plain old Santana was chasing him down, black and blurred like a ghost.
...
"Awake? We still have a way to go. Want to sleep a little longer? If you're hungry, I bought some snacks earlier."
Shino woke from a deep, steady sleep to the voice from the driver's seat. She had slept enough last night, but the ride was quiet, and Satoru drove so smoothly that closing her eyes for a moment had been enough. Somehow, she had drifted off.
She rubbed her eyes with one small hand.
The scenery outside was different from before she had fallen asleep.
"This road is really quiet," Shino murmured, still half asleep.
"Yeah. I don't know why, but all I can see is us and the Enzo up ahead. Did they close the road? I didn't see any signs."
Satoru had been wondering the same thing. He had simply followed the route, but after taking the exit, the number of cars around them had kept dropping. Now only the Enzo remained.
Something felt off. It was not fatigue from driving too long. It was just a simple sense that the road was wrong.
"That car up ahead is really fast..."
Shino watched the red car for a few seconds. Then its rear swung out, and it drifted beautifully into the curve.
"Eh? Eh?! He's doing that on this road?"
"Bold, but careful. The movement was clean, no wasted motion. And since this road is weirdly empty except for the two of us, maybe he just felt like playing a little."
"That still doesn't make it okay... But drifting, huh. I think this is the first time I've seen it in real life."
Shino's eyes widened.
"It's not actually that hard."
"Hmph. You say that like you can do it."
Shino crossed her arms and settled comfortably into her seat.
"A little. Want to see?"
Before she could answer, the Santana, which had been behaving itself until then, suddenly roared and shot forward. It closed in on the next curve in an instant. The secondhand car seemed to have been injected with violence. One moment it was a harmless little hatchling; the next, it was a beast, carving an arc into the road that would have made even a professional nod.
Shino did not even have time to scream. Her view snapped left and right like lightning, and by the time she understood what had happened, the curve was already behind them.
"That was the basic version," Satoru said, his voice drifting over as casually as ever.
"Oh... oh..."
That was all Shino could answer.
Then she noticed something wrong.
The Santana had not slowed down after the drift. The beast it had become was still baring its fangs. That had only been a warm-up. Next, it would pounce.
A bad feeling rose in her chest.
She might have awakened something she should not have touched.
Satoru still had a smile at the corner of his mouth.
But his eyes had changed.
They glittered with the hunger of someone who had found prey worth chasing.
At that moment, only that fated thrill remained in his heart.
The accelerator was already pressed to the floor.
...
It was him… It was him!
Louis had seen it clearly: the black Santana leaping out of the shadow beyond the curve.
His whole body trembled. His back lifted from the seat, hunching under the pressure. He threw the cigar out the window and gripped the wheel with both hands.
This was not an illusion.
This was real.
He had appeared, he had returned.
His nightmare.
Fear. Humiliation. And beneath them, a fighting spirit that screamed for revenge. That fire burned through him, spreading into every limb and every bone. The muddy pleasure clouding his eyes was burned away, leaving only obsession and madness.
The brilliant young man everyone once admired had gone hunting outside a city one night under the name Wang Fugui. He defeated every street racer there. The flames of the Enzo crushed them into dust. Of course they did. Louis Elvis did not lose.
But when he was about to return in triumph, a pitch-black Santana had silently closed in behind him.
It was deep as night.
Louis went from arrogance, to seriousness, to collapse, and still could not escape the shadow. That Santana carried an endless night with it and swallowed the red flames of his Enzo.
In the final five sharp turns, he had been crushed.
The Santana gave him the first defeat of his life.
From beginning to end, he had been helpless, trampled like a child.
Louis Elvis's perfection shattered along with his confidence and pride.
After that, no matter what he did, he felt that Santana hiding in the shadows behind him, waiting to devour everything he was. The ghost of that car kept telling him that all his effort was pointless.
The young star went dim and lost the will to move forward.
"Don't screw with me!"
Louis roared from the driver's seat. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, burning with fury, and the sudden outburst terrified the woman beside him.
"This time, I will crush you! I will erase that shadow with my own hands!"
You should never have come back.
Because this time, I will step over you and return to the stars.
The Enzo seemed to answer him. The fiery-red machine that had tasted defeat only once began to surge toward its top speed.
...
"That spark came back beautifully... but it's still only an ember."
For some reason, Satoru murmured the words under his breath.
He no longer remembered this Enzo, but its defiance had left a strong impression.
And he understood one thing.
That car was going to lose.
There was no other ending.
Then I'll give you that defeat again.
He could no longer hear Shino in the passenger seat.
For the two men gripping the wheels of the Enzo and the Santana, nothing existed now except this battle of speed.
...
Vroom.
Vroom!
The Enzo led the race. On the straights, its superior performance let it pull ahead, while Louis forced it into even the sharpest curves at high speed. At first he struggled, but under the pressure, he could feel his old peak coming back.
The woman in the passenger seat no longer dared to move.
Sweat gathered on his forehead. Every time he cleared a curve, he glanced at the mirror. Every time, that ghostlike car drifted out from behind the bend with effortless calm, never leaving his sight. There was not even the slightest chance to shake it off.
His breathing grew rough as he fought down the fear in his chest.
It was not a ghost, It was not a phantom.
It was human.
Someone he could beat.
With a silent roar and unwavering will, the Enzo turned even more violent.
Then he looked ahead.
Five consecutive curves.
Why?
Why were there five consecutive curves here?
No. He could not waver.
He must have noticed it too: the fatal gap in performance between the Enzo and the Santana. Only high-speed cornering could close that gap. There, it would be a pure contest of skill, not machine power. If Louis pushed the Enzo to its limit through those five curves, the Santana could floor the accelerator and still never catch him.
This was where he had flinched before.
Because he feared losing control.
Because he feared danger.
But fear was nothing compared to glory.
All he had left now was his hatred for the man behind him.
He did not need mercy. The road ahead was where their grudge would end.
Burn, my Enzo.
Set the night on fire until it shines like day.
The Enzo's engine let out a death-defying roar. The woman beside him saw the sharp curve ahead. At this speed, it was suicide. She screamed, but there was nothing she could do to save herself.
The first curve.
He charged in at full speed. The rear slid out in a beautiful arc. Louis's face went expressionless, his hands moving with lightning precision. To his eyes, even this extreme speed seemed to slow.
It was the legendary state where man and machine became one. In that instant, he was faster than the roaring machine itself, freer and more arrogant than ever, carrying the presence of a true champion.
No one could stop him.
The Enzo forced its way through the first curve with brutal brilliance.
A miracle of control.
But the scream of the Santana's tires sounded like laughter. In the mirror, it had already begun entering the turn.
For an instant, Louis hesitated.
He saw himself as a child.
The day he first saw a car.
The day he bought his first model car.
The day he first rode in one.
The day he first saw this Enzo as a partner in battle.
Day and night, he had poured his passion into it, painting its body a blazing red. He and this car were an inextinguishable flame.
He had returned to the peak.
But that was not enough.
Because even at his peak, he had already lost once.
Then he would go beyond it.
Beyond even his former self.
The Enzo's tires screamed against the road. In that instant, it became a crimson bolt of lightning, blasting through three curves in the blink of an eye.
Three turns, three impossible bursts of speed.
Like a red comet, the kind of fantasy that should only exist between the lines of a story.
No.
It was not over.
I will seal every route you have. I will not leave even the smallest gap for you to pass. Three bursts are not enough. I will take full control.
Louis's face went pale. One moment of hesitation would mean disaster, but he clenched his teeth and swallowed the pressure with vicious resolve.
In the rearview mirror, the Santana was still there.
Even after that supreme burst of speed, it remained right behind him, as if an iron chain bound the two cars together.
"Nice."
Satoru smiled coldly, offering his second word of praise.
"Now burn out."
His pale-gold pupils slowly flared as his perception opened into infinity. The Enzo's only opening stood out with perfect clarity. For him now, there was no such thing as waiting for the right moment.
Every moment was the right moment.
The black Santana slipped into the gap like a dagger. With the accelerator floored, cold and deadly, it seemed to shove the Enzo aside by force. In truth, it had simply entered the only space the Enzo had left open. The engine roared like a beast biting into prey. The Santana caught the Enzo, and both cars drifted sideways together through the curve.
In that instant, from the corner of his eye, Louis saw the man in the Santana's driver's seat.
A contemptuous smile hung on his lips.
As if to say:
You will never beat me in this life.
That split second felt eternal.
The Santana swept through the remaining curves with the wind at its back. The skill and experience behind those movements were beyond anything Louis had imagined, and despite himself, he respected them.
Leaving only red taillights behind, the Santana's roar faded into the distance.
Louis's face was ashen.
The Enzo, too, slowed to a stop, as if it had burned all the way to the end.
"You did your best... and so did I."
He buried his face against the steering wheel. Tears suddenly streamed down his face as he sobbed quietly.
The Enzo gave no answer.
It only stayed silently beside its master.