Front-engine, rear-wheel drive versus rear-engine, rear-wheel drive.
Silverwolf raised her functioning hand, eyes locked on the two machines lined up at the starting point. Their silhouettes cut through the mountain fog like apex predators waiting to strike.
"Alright!" she called out, her voice slicing through the noise. "We're starting the countdown!"
The engines snapped to life like thunder, exhausts snarling in the humid mountain air, pulses of combustion beating like war drums against the steep walls of Jinren Pass. A shiver of anticipation rippled through the crowd, their faces bathed in the flickering dance of headlights and brake lamps.
-5!
-4!
-3!
-2!
-1!
"GO!"
Silverwolf's arm dropped.
The moment shattered.
The Blackbird exploded off the line—rear tires barking against the cold tarmac, traction control flickering like lightning as the 400-horsepower flat-six spat fury into the drivetrain. The Porsche's rear dug in, the weight of the engine anchoring the car like a shotput being hurled down a winding corridor of death.
Yelan's right hand stayed locked on the wheel, left gripping the shifter tightly as she feathered second gear, then jammed it into third with a sharp heel-toe downshift to stabilize the rear end. The turbo spooled smoothly—detuned, yes, but more alive than ever. The car gripped the wet road like it had claws.
The RX-7's launch was cleaner—less dramatic but perfectly balanced. Keqing's throttle modulation was surgical, coaxing grip from the slick pavement instead of overpowering it. Her footwork was crisp, textbook. Clutch in, blip, second gear. The FC's rotary engine buzzed like a hornet swarm, revving high but not out of control.
The lighter RX-7 didn't leap like the Porsche—but it flowed. It slid into rhythm.
"She's already on her," a spectator breathed out, voice tinged with disbelief.
Ganyu clenched her fists, her voice almost a whisper from the edge of the crowd. "Come on, Keqing. Don't give her an inch."
—
The First Set
The first corner came like a knife through the dark.
Yelan approached it fast—too fast for anyone else—but she threw the Blackbird into it with terrifying precision. Her braking point was aggressive, deep into the zone, but her weight transfer was clinical. She trail-braked into the apex, the Porsche rotating smoothly around the engine's pendulum inertia. Her left hand finessed the wheel while the right prepped for the exit shift.
Behind her, Keqing's RX-7 stalked.
She entered the corner tighter, lighter, faster. The FC danced into the turn—suspension compressing hard under braking, then rebounding as she feathered the throttle mid-corner to correct the rear. Her front-engine layout demanded more deliberate control, but it rewarded her with sublime balance.
She was only inches off Yelan's bumper coming out of the curve.
The rain misted down now, lightly dusting the road with a layer of treachery.
At home in Araumi, Ningguang stood by her open window, sipping tea as she watched the lightning crawl across the horizon. "Rain," she murmured. "The Blackbird's worst enemy. And Keqing's greatest weapon."
—
Rest Area – Collei's Eye
Amber leaned over, half yelling over the roar of engines echoing through the valley. "Collei, what do you think?"
Collei's expression was unreadable, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes didn't blink.
"It's a test of patience," she said, voice low. "Fast corners with shifting camber. The wet makes it worse. You can't attack it. You have to ride it… coax it."
Amber blinked. "Yougou's like that too?"
"Worse," Collei said. "But this place reminds me more of Amakane Pass."
Amber raised an eyebrow. "That's a rally stage. Isn't that—"
Collei smiled faintly. "Exactly. Blind, fast, treacherous. That's the game here."
—
Midpoint Chaos
The battle intensified.
The RX-7 was no longer trailing.
It was hunting.
Keqing's fingers were tight on the wheel now. She downshifted into third, revs screaming to 9,000 before she let the clutch snap back in—her tachometer lit red in the gloom. Her heel tapped the brake while her toe blipped throttle. The FC rotated beautifully, its limited-slip diff locking as she countersteered to keep the tail just behind the Blackbird's quarter panel.
Yelan gritted her teeth. She could feel the presence behind her—not just see it in the mirror. It was pressure. Heavy. Unrelenting.
"The RX-7 is on her," murmured a nearby racer.
Yelan threw the Blackbird into the next set of sweepers, rain streaking across the windshield. The front tires struggled for grip—too much speed. She felt the rear begin to float—
"Shit—"
She countered early, fighting to correct the oversteer. The Porsche wobbled—momentarily uncertain—but she saved it with a deft flick of the wheel and throttle modulation. Her instincts were sharper now. Sharper than they'd ever been.
But Keqing saw it.
She dove in.
Late brake. Hard turn-in. Feint.
The RX-7's rear stepped out, but she caught it clean, slinging herself into the inside line. The nose of the FC nearly kissed the Blackbird's rear fender.
Yelan reacted instantly. She blocked the apex—hard. Slammed the Porsche across the inside line, cutting off Keqing's move. It was ruthless, dirty by some standards, but it worked.
Keqing had to adjust—braking harder to avoid contact, her line forced wide into the corner exit. The RX-7 squirmed under her as she wrestled for traction. The tires howled.
Yelan kept her lead… but only by inches.
—
Off-Mountain Observers
At her estate, Ningguang's spotter spoke into a private line. "They've hit the halfway mark. Keqing tried a dive in the last hairpin. Yelan shut it down."
"Damage?" Ningguang asked coolly.
"No contact. But the RX-7 lost time."
Ningguang exhaled slowly. "Yelan's being smarter than I thought. She's running defensive lines… circuit-style. It won't hold forever in the rain. She's overusing the exits."
"She's compensating," the spotter confirmed. "Throttle steering."
"Keep watching. The next sector will be decisive."
—
Base Camp – Silverwolf
Silverwolf leaned against the hood of her car, radio pressed to her ear. Rain pattered on her jacket sleeve.
"The RX-7's closing again," came the report. "Yelan's car is understeering slightly—she's tightening the entry, losing exit speed. Keqing's shaving off time."
Silverwolf's smirk was small, but genuine. "You're holding, huh? That's my girl." A pause. "She's not the same driver that lost to the Eight-Six. That Yelan would've panicked by now."
The crackle of thunder rolled across the mountaintop. The crowd roared as the duel vanished into the dark.
And still, neither car was ahead by more than a breath.
The storm had arrived.
And the real race was only just beginning.
The Rain Begins
In Beidou's group, Collei reached out instinctively, her hand open to the sky.
A cold drop hit her palm.
"Rain's here," she murmured, glancing up as the clouds broke open—heavy, gray masses roiling like smoke, rolling across the Jinren skyline.
Amber's eyes widened. "Shit—umbrellas!" she shouted, bolting for her Sileighty.
But she didn't make it. A downpour crashed down with no warning, soaking everything in seconds. Rain hammered the pavement, turning the mountaintop into a slick, glistening battlefield.
Beidou crossed her arms, water streaming down her jacket, and grinned like a warhound watching a storm roll in.
"Well… this just got good."
From the sidelines, someone yelled over the pounding rain.
"Track's gonna be like an oil slick now! First few minutes are the worst—water's mixing with grease, dust, rubber!"
March 7th's arms were crossed, her eyes tracking the cars below, unwavering.
"This went from tough to brutal."
Driver Reactions
Inside the Blackbird, the rhythmic thump of the wipers echoed over the engine's low growl. Yelan clicked her tongue, flicked the stalk forward.
"Perfect fucking timing," she muttered, squinting through the glass as the world smeared into streaks of red taillights and gray haze.
Visibility was trash. Traction was worse. But she didn't flinch.
Meanwhile, in the RX-7, Keqing didn't touch her wipers.
They stayed off.
Raindrops streaked her windshield like tracer rounds, but her eyes never blinked. She wasn't seeing with her eyes anymore. She was driving by feel—tire feedback, weight transfer, brake modulation.
"I don't need to see," she whispered. "I need to feel."
Her hands were steady on the wheel, fingertips sensitive, twitch-reactive. She trusted the machine—and herself.
The Final Stages
Down below, Collei stood motionless, eyes on the horizon where the road twisted one last time before disappearing into the tree line.
"Hey," she said, pointing. "That's the finish line."
The others followed her finger.
Seele's eyes narrowed. "Yeah?"
"But down there—look closer," Collei said. "That's a descent. We're at the highest elevation on Jinren."
Silence fell.
Amber's voice dropped to a hush. "So the final section's a downhill… and a fast one."
Seele exhaled through her nose. "In the rain, with worn tires and limited visibility?"
March's jaw clenched. "That's suicide."
The Rainy Battle Begins
On cue, the twin screams of a rotary and a turbocharged flat-six echoed through the mountain pass. Both cars burst from the second-to-last hairpin like bullets from a double-barreled gun.
"They're here!" someone shouted.
In a blur of headlights and tire spray, the RX-7 pulled even with the Blackbird. Side by side. Keqing had gone for the outside line—suicide in this weather.
Inside the Blackbird, Yelan's foot jammed the brake, eyes widening.
"What the fuck is she doing?!"
She glanced right.
Keqing was right there. Unshaken. Committed.
Both drivers braked at the same time—hard. Front suspensions compressed violently, tires locked momentarily before the ABS kicked in. Water exploded from under the wheel wells. The road howled.
They turned in.
Side by side.
Two machines—one rear-engine, one front-mid—drifted the slick curve in perfect sync, yaw angles matched within degrees. The outside edge threatened to swallow them whole, a mist-shrouded blur of guardrails and wet leaves.
Spectators stood frozen.
Keqing countersteered gently, just once, trusting the inertia. The FD pivoted perfectly and hooked back onto line. Yelan's Blackbird clawed for grip, rear wheels stepping out under throttle—but she caught it.
They exited the corner like twin phantoms cutting through fog.
But the RX-7 had the angle.
It gripped a split second sooner.
And launched.
Wheels spun against the soaked tarmac, but Keqing's foot stayed pinned. The rotary screamed up the rev range. Turbo whine pierced the air.
The finish line flashed past—just a quarter car length ahead.
"KEQING WINS!" March's voice cracked with excitement, fists raised.
"Holy shit! A photo finish!" Beidou bellowed, adrenaline in her throat.
Seele didn't say much—just smiled, arms crossed, approving. "Hell of a race."
Mutual Respect
At the summit parking lot, engines ticked as they cooled, steam rising from soaked hoods. The downpour didn't matter anymore.
Yelan and Keqing stepped out of their machines, eyes locked.
Their faces didn't carry bitterness—just acknowledgment. They met in the center.
Handshake. No words needed.
But Yelan broke the silence anyway. "That side-by-side drift… You realize that was insane, right?"
Keqing chuckled, brushing damp hair from her eyes. "If I was going to lose, I wanted it to be spectacular."
Yelan bumped her shoulder. "You didn't lose."
The Challenger Appears
Before the crowd could settle, a sharp, throaty engine note cut through the air—clean, balanced, unmistakable.
A Honda S2000 emerged from the rain.
It prowled into the lot like a wolf into a pack. Low. Menacing. Controlled.
From behind the wheel, Ganyu stepped out, her Qilin eyes calm under the storm, her blue hair soaked and plastered to her shoulders.
She approached Keqing casually.
"Nice work," she said.
Keqing tilted her head. "Ganyu?"
But before more could be said, the race coordinator cut in, brow furrowed.
"Do we really want to run another race in this?"
Yelan shook her head. "No. The runoff's getting worse. Grip's only gonna go downhill from here."
Keqing agreed. "Too risky."
But Ganyu stepped forward.
Her eyes locked onto Collei in the crowd.
"I want to race the Eight-Six."
Keqing blinked. "You're serious? In this weather?"
Ganyu smiled faintly, like it was obvious. "We practiced here. I know Jinren's lines better than anyone but Ningguang."
Collei narrowed her eyes.
Beidou asked, "Who the hell is she?"
"No idea," Collei muttered.
As if she heard them, Ganyu turned, locking eyes with Collei.
"That's Ganyu," she said coolly, walking toward her.
She stopped in front of Collei, her expression calm but challenging.
"And I bet you're Collei, right?"
Collei nodded silently. Her eyes were cautious, but there was no backing down.
Ganyu leaned in slightly. "Let's see what all the hype's about. Downhill. Right now."
Keqing stepped in fast. "You can't be serious."
But Ganyu raised her voice to the crowd. "What do you think?! Should we race!?"
The answer was a thunderclap of cheering.
Beidou groaned. "Well. So much for sitting this one out."
March facepalmed. "She's supposed to race Ningguang in three days!"
Ganyu didn't even look back.
"If you can't beat me, Collei," she said coldly, "then you don't deserve to race Ningguang."
March pushed forward. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—no thanks! Collei's good!"
But Collei just smiled.
"I'm in."
The crowd fell silent.
Seele muttered, "Oh hell no…"
Keqing tried to step in again—"Wait, this is stupid—" but Yelan stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"It's already decided. You know how these things go."
Ganyu's smirk returned. "Let's see what kind of driver you really are."
Preparation for the Showdown
The Eight-Six rolled up to the line, headlights piercing the mist, water sluicing off its matte hood.
Collei adjusted her seat, while March climbed in—only for Collei to stop her. "Mind sitting in the back seat for this one, March?"
March blinked. "The back seat? Uhh… sure?"
As she settled in, confusion dawned. "Is this some kind of tactic, Collei?"
Collei shrugged. "No. Just keeping myself free from distractions."
March looked around. "How am I supposed to hang on from back here?"
Collei smirked. "That's for you to figure out."
March's face twisted in annoyance. "Thanks for the vote of confidence…"
At the S2000, Keqing walked up to the driver's window.
"You don't speak for Ningguang."
Ganyu didn't even look at her. "Don't worry. I won't waste her time."
She looked at the storm.
"Besides… this weather? It's made for me."
Keqing exhaled, walking away.
"Famous last words…"