"Damn it! Did that car actually win the championship?!"
"Where the hell are the other racers?!"
"There's gotta be someone catching up behind them, right?!"
"What the hell is going on?!"
The crowd buzzed with disbelief, their eyes locked on the final stretch of the race.
Under the neon lights and the roaring cityscape, David's "Behemoth" crept toward the finish line—slowly, almost painfully. The once-mighty beast of a car was barely holding together, every last drop of fuel burned in the chaos of the race.
But the most shocking part?
No other vehicle was in sight.
One by one, every rival had been eliminated, crushed, or left in the dust.
The "Behemoth" trembled as its tires kissed the final marker—then, with a last exhausted groan, the engine gave out.
The race was over.
The crowd fell silent.
Then the announcer, swallowing hard, lifted the microphone with a trembling hand.
"L-Ladies and gentlemen… we have our Death Rally champion!"
The screen above the finish line flashed with the final results.
1st Place: Claire Russell & David Martinez
"Everyone, give a round of applause——!!"
But instead of applause, the audience exploded into chaos.
Shouts, curses, and outright disbelief filled the night air.
"Hey, honey, what the fuck just happened?!"
"Boss! What the hell went down out there?!"
"Damn it! I lost my entire bet today!"
The anger, the frustration—it was all drowned beneath the brutal reality.
Claire and David had won.
And they didn't give a damn about what anyone else thought.
---
Victory, Revenge, and a Hefty Reward
For Claire, this race wasn't just about winning.
It was about revenge.
And now, with Sampson's fate sealed, she had finally gotten the closure she needed.
For David, it was about proving a point.
He didn't just survive the Death Rally—he dominated it.
And as a cherry on top, there was also the small matter of the 2-million-eurodollar prize.
After the official declaration of their victory, Claire pulled David aside.
"Look, David," she said, holding out the prize money. "I want you to take all of it. You earned this more than anyone."
But David shook his head.
"Half is fine," he said. "I didn't do this for the money. You deserved this win."
Claire stared at him for a moment before chuckling. "You really are something else, kid."
With the winnings split, Claire suggested heading out for a drink to celebrate.
But David politely declined.
"Got business to handle tomorrow," he said. "Can't get wasted just yet."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "Suit yourself. But I owe you a drink, Martinez. Don't forget that."
With that, they parted ways.
---
A Quiet Ride Back Home
David swung a leg over his motorcycle, the hum of the engine a soothing contrast to the chaos of the race.
The night air was crisp as he weaved through the city streets, neon reflections dancing on his visor.
After the madness of the Death Rally, the silence felt almost surreal.
By the time he reached his apartment, exhaustion had settled into his bones.
A quick shower later, he threw himself onto the bed.
Eyes barely closed—
[Ding—! Your frog cub has returned from its trip and has brought back a souvenir! Please check!]
David's eyes snapped open.
"...That little bastard finally remembered to come back?"
He sighed and sat up, pulling up the system interface in his mind.
---
The Frog Cub's Mysterious Souvenir
Inside the virtual "Frog Cub Home", his little green traveler was sitting at a wooden desk, scribbling in its travel journal.
David raised an eyebrow.
The frog looked healthy this time—no scratches, no dirt, no signs of it getting into trouble.
That was already an improvement.
"Guess all those attribute upgrades finally paid off," David muttered, rubbing his chin.
His eyes drifted to the open journal on the table.
The frog had drawn something in it.
David leaned in closer.
The drawing showed… a cauliflower-headed figure with glasses.
David frowned. "...What the hell is that?"
The art was, to put it lightly, awful.
Even a kid with crayons could have done better.
He squinted, trying to make sense of the deformed shape.
"Is this thing… a souvenir?" he muttered. "Or is it hungry for cauliflower?"
Shaking his head, David checked the inventory section of the system.
A new item had been added:
[Valoran's Memory Fragment]
Item Type: Special Souvenir
Description: A mysterious relic from the distant land of Valoran. Its history is unclear, but it carries a strange energy.
David blinked.
"Valoran?"
That name wasn't from Night City.
In fact, it didn't sound like it was from anywhere on Earth.
His gut told him this was something big.
Reaching out mentally, he selected the item.
[Would you like to use Valoran's Memory Fragment?]
David hesitated for only a second.
"Yeah. Let's see what this thing does."
The moment he confirmed, a wave of energy pulsed through his mind.
His vision blurred—then twisted.
And suddenly—
---
A Glimpse of Valoran
David found himself standing in a strange landscape.
The sky was a deep violet, filled with floating islands and arcane energy.
Towering structures, carved with runes that glowed faintly, stretched across the horizon.
And in the distance—
A figure with wild, unkempt hair and glowing eyes stood at the peak of a ruined temple.
The figure turned, staring directly at him.
A voice echoed through his mind.
"You do not belong here, traveler."
"Yet… you are chosen."
"Valoran's fate is intertwined with yours."
David's heart pounded.
Before he could say anything, the vision shattered—
And he was back in his apartment, gasping for air.
His hands trembled as he gripped the bedsheets.
"...What the fuck was that?"
His system interface still displayed the used item, but now another prompt appeared:
[New Quest Unlocked: The Secrets of Valoran]
David exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
First a Death Rally championship, and now mystical visions from another world?
"Shit," he muttered. "Guess tomorrow's gonna be a long day after all."
With that, he flopped back onto the bed.
Sleep came fast.
But his dreams were filled with floating islands, rune-carved temples, and a figure with glowing eyes watching from the shadows.
---
To Be Continued…
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