The high-speed race was loud, chaotic, and bursting with energy. Luca and Beatrix grabbed cold drinks from a camper van, then settled under a parasol, talking through her decision to leave the High Table while the desert heat shimmered all around them.
Procedurally speaking, the twelve seats at the High Table hold the authority to decide whether an assassin stays or leaves. The so-called "price" isn't always literal—it's more about whether those people are willing to let someone walk away. It doesn't necessarily mean paying in blood, like Master Ye losing his eyesight or the Baba Yaga being forced into an impossible mission.
Did anyone really think that blinding Caine would make him harmless? He could still take on ten opponents at once.
Now that Beatrix wanted out, Luca technically had the power to "guarantee" her withdrawal. Even though he hadn't taken a seat at the High Table yet, his current influence—and the people backing him—meant deciding the fate of an assassin wasn't difficult. The real issue was that Beatrix wasn't one of his people; she belonged to the Deadly Viper organization, just like the Baba Yaga still worked under Tarasov. That relationship was hierarchical—it had nothing to do with friendship.
"I need a reason," Luca said, looking straight at her. "I can't vouch for you and let you leave the High Table for no reason. Start by telling me why you want out."
The Baba Yaga did it for his wife. Caine did it for his daughter. And Luca already had a good idea why Beatrix wanted out.
"I'm tired," Beatrix said quietly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "When I trained in China, Master Pai Mei taught me about cause and effect. In our world, those who kill… eventually get killed. Every assassin I've known ends the same way."
She paused, her voice softening. "I don't want to live like that anymore. I just want something normal. Something peaceful."
Luca smiled faintly. He understood that life far too well. The underworld was like a net—once you were caught, getting out wasn't easy. Maybe lone wolves like Beatrix still had a chance, but people like him? Leaders? There was no way out.
He was steering a ship that kept getting bigger, filled with all kinds of passengers. Everyone had their own destination, but none of them wanted the ship to sink. And Luca… he was the one holding the wheel.
"Does Bill know?" Luca asked. "You're part of Deadly Viper, yet you're asking outsiders for help instead of him."
Beatrix shook her head. "No one understands Bill better than I do. He wouldn't let me leave. And the reason I came to you… is mostly because of Elle ."
"Elle told you to come to me?"
"No," Beatrix said, a hint of envy slipping into her tone. "Elle changed."
She thought about Elle's life over the past few years—that carefree, almost detached way she lived. The one-eyed woman had slowly broken free from Bill's control. Aside from occasional assignments, she never stood out in the organization. She just… lived the way she wanted.
Assassins were supposed to be free. But Bill liked control—especially over the women around him.
"I envy her," Beatrix admitted. "She looks… happier now."
"She hasn't quit being an assassin," Luca pointed out.
"Everyone wants something different," Beatrix replied. "Maybe this is what she wants."
Her golden hair shimmered under the sunlight, but there was a quiet heaviness in her voice.
Luca knew how things originally storyline—her pregnancy, her escape, her hiding—were barely explored. That story was all revenge and blood. Beatrix had wiped out almost everyone in the Deadly Viper organization—Elle Driver, O-Ren Ishii… all dead.
But things were different now. At the very least, Luca believed Elle and O-Ren might avoid that fate this time. As for the rest, he didn't particularly care.
"Since you helped Elle," Beatrix continued, "you can help me too."
Luca almost laughed. He hadn't really helped Elle directly. If anything, it was the environment—the club, the atmosphere—that slowly changed her. Maybe the Silver Queen's influence, combined with his own, helped break that mental grip.
"If you help me leave the organization and the High Table," Beatrix said steadily, "I'll teach you everything—every technique Master Pai Mei passed down."
Luca paused.
Another SSR-level card had just landed in front of him—and this one needed protection.
"Stay here for now," he said after a moment. "Give me some time to figure it out."
If it came down to it… he'd personally lead a team and go "Kill Bill."
As for the High Table, he'd have to work through his connections carefully.
Beatrix placed a hand on her stomach, her expression softening. "Thank you."
[Bond: Attention]
Meanwhile, Vincent and Jack moved through the crowd with several plainclothes officers, blending in while quietly observing everything.
They had already identified the Korean man recruiting drivers. Every time a race ended, he would approach drivers and start talking. No one knew exactly what he said, but after watching for a while, Vincent noticed something important—many of those drivers had criminal records.
Speeding, robbery, assault—you name it. The police database was full of them.
Vincent ordered his team to collect the data, and soon they had plenty. Among them was Dominic Toretto. His record was clear: prison time for assault, a permanent stain.
The file included more than just crimes—it listed family details as well. His father was dead, but he had a younger brother and a sister.
"His sister's here," Jack said. "We got photos."
Vincent took the pictures—there were plenty of photographers on-site anyway, so nothing looked suspicious. He studied them carefully.
"Only the sister? Where's the brother?"
"Didn't see him," Jack replied. "Doesn't look like he's here."
Vincent flipped through the files again. Besides Toretto's crew, there were plenty of other criminals—Triad members, and even a photo of Luca.
Vincent frowned.
That guy again?
Didn't he just get his GTR fixed?
He glanced back at Toretto's file. "If I remember right, Luca's car was modified by Toretto, correct?"
Jack nodded.
Vincent thought for a moment, then said, "Keep a close eye on Toretto and his crew. Don't let them out of sight."
He knew Luca was also investigating the biker gang, so what was Luca doing getting close to Toretto? Just fixing a car? No way. People like Luca often had better leads than the police.
If there was a connection, then Toretto are worth watching.
As night fell, the already chaotic race turned into full-blown madness. Open-air parties exploded across the desert, cars forming circles, music blasting, people dancing. The entire Mojave Desert was overflowing with energy—and hormones.
Luca was invited by Gisele to one of the parties. The two leaned against the GTR, sharing cans of beer.
"You're not from L.A., are you?" she asked, her hair tied in a high ponytail, wearing nothing but a tank top that showed off her figure.
"New York," Luca replied. "I heard this place is the racing capital, so I came to experience it."
"And? Worth it?"
"It's alright," Luca said. "But I haven't met many drivers who can really push me."
Gisele studied him for a moment. She had considered recruiting him—but in the end, she decided against it. He didn't look like he needed money, and more importantly… she didn't want to see him die.
Because that's what happened to Braga's drivers.
They disappeared.
Every single one of them.
Dead at the Mexican border.
"Actually…" she said with a smile, "you're probably just a hobby driver, right?"
"And you?" Luca asked. "A professional?"
"Want to find out?"
"Sure."
"Follow me."
She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.
"Can you dance?"
"Of course."
'Should i spend 50 skill fragments to learn Enchanting Tango?'
[Redeem Enchanting Tango?]
[Y/N]
"Yes, redeem the skill"
[Ding! Skill Enchanting Tango is succesfully redeemed]
[Skill Fragment -50]
[Remaining Skill Fragments: 478]
The skill came from the Former California real life Governor—dancing with the opposite gender increased favorability efficiency. Luca hadn't found it useful before.
Now? Perfect timing.
As they danced, Gisele felt something shift.
The man in front of her suddenly felt more dangerous… more magnetic. Her heartbeat quickened, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
Was it the alcohol?
Their bodies moved closer, heat building between them, breaths mingling.
She caught a scent—clean, masculine, strangely addictive. Not sweat, not smoke… something else entirely.
Her pulse raced.
When she looked into his eyes, she understood.
She'd already lost.
"Follow me," she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the dance floor.
She dragged him into a camper van, hooked one leg to kick the door shut, wrapped her arms around his neck—and kissed him.
"Want to try something faster… and a little rougher?"
Meanwhile, Brian kept watching Toretto and his crew closely.
Before the party even ended, Toretto slipped away with a few of his guys. Mia tried to follow, but he pushed her back.
Brian waited until Dom was gone before rushing over.
"What happened? Where'd they go?"
"I… I don't know," Mia said, flustered.
"Come on, don't do this," Brian pressed. "You two argue every time he leaves like that?"
He was getting anxious. If Dom went out to hit another truck tonight, there was no way he'd escape the Dove of Peace this time.
That wasn't a job.
That was suicide.
"Where would your brother go in the middle of the night?" Brian grabbed her hand. "Does this have something to do with the trucks? Tell me. Does it?"
Mia froze.
How did he know?
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