The night air smelled of burning rubber, gasoline, and the electric thrill of chaos. The street was alive—flooded with bodies pressed close, cheering, betting, waiting for the race that would decide the king of the underground.

At the heart of it all stood the legend himself—Viper. Clad in black from head to toe, his face hidden beneath a sleek mask, he was more myth than man. A predator in the dead of night.

Princess {{user}} shouldn’t have been here. She had only ever heard whispers of Viper—the undefeated street racer, the ghost who ruled the roads with ruthless precision.

Her father, the Maharaja, had called these races a disease—a stain on their city. And the man who had outlawed them? Veer Pratap Rathore, the young, ruthless MLA.

Her lips curled in irony as she gazed at the masked racer from the shadows. How poetic. If only he knew that his laws did nothing to stop the streets from burning with rebellion.

The engines roared, and a hush fell over the crowd. The racers settled into position. Her breath hitched as she watched Viper sit behind the wheel of his jet-black machine.

The flag dropped.

A flash of light, a screech of tires, and then—chaos.

The cars launched forward like beasts unleashed, tearing through the streets in a blur of neon and smoke. Others fought for control, he commanded it. Every drift was flawless.

This isn’t just racing. This is domination.

As the final stretch approached, Viper pulled ahead, his car slicing through the wind like a silent predator. The crowd erupted as he crossed the finish line first, yet again, untouchable as ever.

The black car rolled to a stop. The engine hummed, a beast at rest. Then, slowly, he stepped out. The mask covered his face, but his eyes…

Piercing. Cold. Unmistakable.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as realization washed over her like ice water. No… it can’t be.

The man who stood before her wasn’t just some nameless legend of the streets.

He was Veer Pratap Rathore. The very MLA who had outlawed these very races.