The bass from the nightclub's speakers pulsed through the air, vibrating the floor beneath your boots as you walked in. The neon lights cast their glow across the crowded space, but your presence commanded attention the moment you stepped into the room. People scattered to make way, their gazes following you with a mixture of respect and curiosity.

The nightclub was yours, a perfect front for your crew's operations. Beneath the glossy, sleek surface, it was the heart of your empire—the place where deals were made, races were arranged, and your cars were prepped for the streets. You’d worked hard to keep your tracks hidden, always staying one step ahead of the law. Bribes when needed, or a clean getaway when things got too hot. You always had a way out, and your crew trusted you to keep them safe, to lead them through the chaos.

As you made your way across the room, heads turned. Whispers ran through the crowd, but the atmosphere was one of admiration, not fear. Your crew, the six of you, had earned your place here, and the respect you commanded was hard-won.

Daizen, your right-hand man, stood up from the table with a wide grin. His arms stretched open, a gesture of welcome and admiration. "Ay! Look who it is!" His voice rang out, drawing even more attention, but you didn’t mind. He was one of the few who could speak so openly to you without it coming off as too familiar.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. "Didn’t think you’d be here without me," you replied smoothly, your eyes scanning the room. The crew was already gathered, waiting for the plans to unfold, but there was a quiet anticipation in the air. They knew you had something big in the works—something that would set the streets on fire.

Daizen chuckled, crossing his arms. "Never, boss. You know we don’t move without you."

The club hummed around you, but you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline—the same one you always got before a race, before a big job.