Wangan-sen, Shuto Expressway, Tokyo, Japan

The night was peaceful along the Wangan-sen. Large container trucks chugged along lazily as their drivers got ready for a shift change, seeking comfort at the thought of returning home soon. Passenger cars are rarely seen at this time of the night, with a few rare exceptions – truckers, late shift workers, Highway patrol officers and street racers.

High-pitched whistles of blow-off valves, accompanied by thunderous rumbles from finely tuned performance engines are tell-tale signs of approaching racers. Most people choose to give way to the racers for fear that their stubbornness might lead to their untimely demise with these speeding hulks of metal and composites…

But not the truckers.

The racers have been more than a nuisance to them; they were pests that must be rid of the expressway. Many truckers have been caught in one too many accidents caused by the reckless fools. Most of them have narrowly escaped with various injuries, while others have met their end on this super-highway of Japan. The incompetency of the police had led to the truckers forming their own vigilante groups to take on the racers. Shunting and nudging between them have become common, and more accidents are happening as these truckers make their own moves to take out rampant racers.

As with all things, there is always one vehicle that both the police and the truckers have failed to and would love to take down. It is none other than a silver ’02 Nissan Skyline GT-R. It is ancient by current standards, but it has somehow managed to evade all the efforts from the police or truckers to put it down for good. It has proven so elusive to capture that both circles have come up with a unique title for it – The Prize.

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At one of the rest stops at the entrance to the Wangan-sen, a small group of street racers began to gather for their fortnightly time trial run on the prime asphalt of the famed Bayshore line; the only strip of paved road in Japan where speed records of over 300 Km/h were ever made. The racers had kept their interaction quiet and discreet, with only a few trusted middlemen to deal amongst themselves. The recent crack-down on street racers had been particularly harsh, with progressively heavier penalties to boot.

“Alright, beautiful. Are you watching your boyfriend race?” The man asked the curvaceous woman, his sleek suit and impeccable grooming seeming to suggest that he could be one of the rising jet-setters in the booming economy of Japan.

“Quite the contrary. I’m participating in tonight’s TT.” The woman smiled, her glossy black hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail. She had an aura unlike most others; she had weight to her presence, and a strange air of familiarity around her, like someone you’ve seen on TV or posters in the subway. Both were characteristics that were rarely found in a street racer. “And, that kid isn’t my boyfriend.”

“In that case… Welcome back, Queen… Or should I say… The Prize, Kwon Yuri.” The middleman nodded, as he struck out the names of all other racers on the iPad he had in his hand.

--

The noise of the engine was deafening, the sheer savagery of its exhaust note tore through the night. The black Lamborghini was screaming down the expressway, weaving between cars and trucks, earning itself a number of curses and indecent hand gestures.

But he didn’t care.

All he had to do was to deliver his package, and recover the subject. Tiffany had recovered hers and they were well on their way back to base now. He had a little more free time for some games before completing his task…

He eyed his rear view mirror. A trucker was closing in, ready to sideswipe his Italian exotic.

“Let’s make it more… entertaining, shall we?” The driver thought to himself as he floored the accelerator, taunting the trucker…

--

Yuri stood looking at her car, a Nissan Skyline GT-R Z-Tune. Its gleaming silver paintwork was still intact despite its age. Every single component had been painstakingly refurbished by Jonghyun, her friend and technician. And speaking of whom…

“Where are you, Jonghyun?”

Yuri searched through her cellphone’s contacts before dialing his number. It didn’t take long for the call to be put through.

“Hi, Jonghyun speaking.” The groan of crunching metal could be heard in the background, mixed with the rhythmic pulse of Trance and House tunes pumped out by his stereo.

“Hey, are you here yet? Are you even on the way?” Yuri groaned. She had less than 30 minutes left before the start of the race.

“I rushed to my garage as soon as I got off my flight! You should see me any second now.” He ended the call abruptly.

As if on cue, a Lamborghini Reventon pulled into the rest point, arresting the eyes of bystanders in the area. A young man, barely over the age of twenty, stepped out of the supercar with a yellow plastic briefcase in hand. His slate gray, Hugo Boss suit complemented the muted carbon fiber exterior of the vehicle.

“Arriving in style as usual, Jjong.” Yuri smiled as their palms clapped in a high-five. “It’s been 2 years since I last asked for your help.”

“Yeah! A long time indeed. What’s the problem?” Jonghyun removed his jacket and tie, the offending items that restricted his movements. “As you can see, I don’t have much tools lying around today.”

“Nothing much. Just check the EMU settings for me. You know I’m not good with numbers. Now, work your magic, wonder-boy!”

“Alright. Lets get to work.” Jonghyun said, opening his briefcase to find neat pouches of tools and cables, his laptop packed snugly within.

With seasoned hands, he had connected to the EMU underneath the glove compartment. Within seconds, complex graphs and numbers were displayed on his screen. His calculating eyes darted from one point to another.

“So, how is it?” Yuri bent over from the driver’s seat, the cramped cabin forcing Yuri to rest her body on his shoulder. What Yuri couldn’t see was Jonghyun’s flushed face, which seemed to radiate heat on its own. “Are we ready to go?”

“Ye- yeah! We… just need to load the new settings and we’ll be done!” Jonghyun suppressed his nervousness, his fingers skipping over the keyboard at warp speed.

Good Gods! The temptation…

Jonghyun thought, refocusing himself to the job at hand. He looked through his files, selecting the one that he had been editing for the past week. The edited firmware was programmed to force the engine to stall at a predetermined timing, crashing the vehicle.

Yuri… I’m sorry to put you through this… this will be the last race that you would be known to participate in…

Jonghyun tapped the Enter key, the progress bar flashed green, uploading the file in seconds.

I’ll pray for your safety…

---

“Boss. We have just received a report from Jonghyun. The subject has been recovered with minimal injuries.”

Sooyoung passed a printout to ‘Boss’, with a picture of a wrecked car in a smoldering heap on the highway. She raised her eyebrows, before passing the printout back to Sooyoung.

“How is her condition?” ‘Boss’ asked, a worrisome look on her face. This subject was one of the rare few that possess a unique quality that she was looking for.

“She’s alright now. Jonghyun was quick enough to extract her out from the wreckage before it explodes.” Sooyoung replied, taking a bottle of sparkling water out of the bar fridge. The fizzy drink felt cool to her parched throat, prepping it up for something that would happen next.

“Good. Get someone to attend to her now. She’ll need to recover fully before training could begin,”

‘Boss’ turned her back toward Sooyoung, looking at the training facility below. The ‘Heavyset man’ could be seen jogging around the track with a used truck tire strapped around his waist. A slimmer one was practicing with his throwing knives on a wooden figure, checking his blades after removing them from the target.

“Don’t worry, Tiffany is attending to her in the hyperbaric treatment room. You should …”

“Then all the more I should, who knows what that girl would do to Yuri…”

‘Boss’ spun on her heels, bothered by the nugget of information. Tiffany had always been dangerously attractive to both es and she was well aware that she could easily use her feminine wiles to get whatever she wants. And putting Tiffany with an injured supermodel on the bed isn’t something ‘Boss’ would want to consider as ‘Work-Friendly’.

“I’ll get down to it then, Boss”

Sooyoung headed towards the door, intending to head to the medical division to attend to Yuri. But she had other plans in mind … She opened the door out of the conference room, waiting for her to make the first move.

 “Sooyoungie.” Boss sat on the blackwood table, beckoning Sooyoung to the seat in front of her.

“Yes, Boss.” She smiled, knowing her plan had succeeded.

“Don’t call me ‘Boss’ when we are in private.” ‘Boss’ whispered into her ear, nibbling it as she goes.

“Alright … BoA…”

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