That afternoon, the final school bell rang sharply.
Footsteps echoed through the halls as students poured out of classrooms, chatting and laughing—the usual after-school chaos.
Daryl left first, patting Robinson's shoulder on the way out.
"Heading out, man. Got stuff to do at the garage."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Zashiro gave a small nod.
"Stay sharp."
Then slipped away like a shadow, as always.
Robinson took his time.
He packed his things slowly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. By the time he stepped outside, the school was already emptying.
The sky was brushed with soft orange light as the sun dipped low. The air felt calm.
That's when he saw her—Cassandra.
She was standing by the gate, alone.
Her hair danced slightly in the breeze, phone in hand, though she wasn't looking at it. Her face was calm, but distant.
Robinson stopped for a moment. Then walked up beside her.
"You waiting for someone?" he asked casually.
"Where's your boyfriend? Leon's not walking you home today?"
Cassandra didn't respond right away.
Her eyes stayed forward. Then she finally spoke, her voice cool:
"You didn't come to the party."
Robinson blinked, slightly caught off guard.
Her tone… it didn't sound annoyed. It sounded almost… disappointed.
"I had stuff going on," he said, keeping his tone neutral.
"Didn't really feel like pretending to have fun with people who don't care."
Cass turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing a bit.
"I invited you. You disappeared without a word."
Robinson met her gaze.
"My mom was in the hospital, Cass. I didn't have the time or energy for some fake social scene."
Silence.
Cassandra's face shifted—surprised, and a little guilty.
"…I didn't know. No one told me."
Robinson sighed.
"You don't need a trending hashtag to check on someone you say you care about."
Cassandra let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"So, you're mad at me?"
He shook his head.
"I'm not mad. Just… realizing who's real and who's not."
Another pause.
Cass finally looked down, her voice quieter.
"Leon's not my boyfriend. We broke up before the party."
Robinson raised his eyebrows slightly. That caught him off guard—but he kept his expression calm.
"Oh."
She glanced back at him, more openly now.
"I waited out here because I wanted to talk. But… you're different now."
Robinson smiled faintly, eyes tired but clear.
"I'm not different. Just starting to see things for what they really are."
They stood in silence again.
From down the street, the sound of an engine hummed closer. A sleek black car pulled up and stopped across from the school gate.
It was Paul's car.
Robinson looked toward it, then back at Cassandra.
"I have to go. But… if you really want to talk, you know how to reach me."
He turned and walked toward the car.
Cassandra didn't say anything—just watched him leave.
The car drove off into the soft glow of the sunset.
Cassandra remained at the gate, alone.
Her eyes lingered on the road long after the car disappeared.
That evening, the sky deepened into twilight…
…and the feelings they left unspoken quietly began to grow, somewhere in the silence between them.
The car cruised smoothly through the city streets.
Streetlights began to flicker on as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the windshield.
Paul drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding a small bottle of water.
Robinson sat in the passenger seat, quiet for a while, staring out the window.
Suddenly, Paul broke the silence.
"That girl earlier—who is she?"
Robinson glanced at him, answering casually,
"Cassandra. School's golden girl."
He leaned back.
"Also known as a 'night kid.' She races in the underground scene sometimes."
Paul raised an eyebrow, nodding.
"I could tell from the way she stood. Confident—but carrying something heavy."
Robinson looked at his father, surprised.
"You can tell all that just by looking?"
Paul gave a faint smile.
"People like us… we learn to read body language. Especially after what I used to do."
Robinson turned to him, serious.
"Which 'what you used to do' are we talking about here? The part where you disappeared and left me and Mom? Or the part where you suddenly reappeared with money for her surgery?"
Paul was silent for a moment.
Then, he let out a long breath.
"I used to live in Tokyo, Japan. For a long time. Over ten years."
"But I wasn't just working there... I was undercover. Deep in the heart of Zero Divide's Asian branch."
Robinson sat up straighter, alert.
"Zero Divide? The crew we're up against now?"
Paul nodded.
"Back then, they weren't as big as they are now. But even then, they were brutal—smuggling cars, weapons, drugs. Underground circuits stretched across all of Asia.
They had codes, networks, signals… and systems."
Robinson said nothing. Just listened.
Paul continued, his tone lower.
"I'm not a criminal, Rob. I was a special agent. Government recruited me because of my driving skills, my ability to blend in."
"I joined Zero Divide to tear them apart from the inside."
Robinson stared ahead, his mouth slightly open.
"So all this time… you were a government agent?"
Paul nodded slowly.
"I can't say much more. But in Japan, I moved constantly. Then when you were born… I started to lose focus. I realized you needed a father. And your mom needed a husband."
Robinson lowered his gaze.
"But you left."
Paul spoke softly.
"Not because I wanted to. But because Zero Divide started to suspect me. If I stayed… they would've killed all three of us."
Silence filled the car as they stopped at a red light.
Paul glanced at his son.
"Now it makes sense why your mom told you to consider moving before you even knew she was sick."
"She knew something, Rob. She knew that eventually… this world would pull you in too."
Robinson gave a small nod, his eyes sharp.
"And now… I'm already halfway in."
Paul gave a bitter smile.
"That's why I came back. Not to run away—but to help you survive it."
The light turned green. The car moved forward again.
Garage 17 – Evening.
Dim fluorescent lights hum above rows of modified cars and scattered engine parts. From the outside, it looks like a regular repair shop—but inside, it's a command center.
Paul and Robinson step out of the car.
The automatic doors slide open with a mechanical hiss.
Robinson walks in, eyes scanning the garage—a collection of race cars, monitors displaying city maps, surveillance footage, and digital schematics.
Suddenly—
Marcus appears from a side hallway—shirtless, sweat glistening on his chest, only wearing track pants, hair a total mess.
Robinson freezes, eyebrows raised.
"Bro—WHAT is going on here?!"
Behind Marcus, a girl in an oversized hoodie steps out, casually fixing his hair.
"Your hair's always such a mess, Mark," she giggles, adjusting his bangs.
Paul groans, rubbing his temples.
"Oh… shit. What the hell are you two doing here?"
Marcus lifts both hands like he's innocent.
"Relax, bro! I was doing physical training. She just helped with… my hair. That's it!"
Paul glares.
"This is a command post, not a date spot."
Marcus chuckles.
"Hey—relax. Zero Divide's still on my mind. I was just… recovering."
Robinson frowns.
"Recovering? What is this, a spa?"
Marcus quickly walks over to the central monitor. His face shifts to a serious tone.
"But this is serious, Rob… and I owe you an apology."
Robinson squints.
"An apology? For what?"
Marcus exhales, then meets Robinson's eyes.
"Because there's a good chance one of Zero Divide's top traitors… used to work with me."
Paul stiffens.
"Name?"
Marcus taps a button, and a projector illuminates the far wall with the image of a man—bearded, hair tied back, a small scar on his left cheek.
"His name's Vance. Former mechanic and liaison between Tokyo and Southeast Asia's racing syndicates."
Marcus turns to Paul.
"He worked with me a few years ago. Then disappeared. And now…"
He clicks again—drone footage appears on the screen, showing Vance at a dark shipping yard, talking to a hooded man. The Zero Divide logo is clearly stamped on a shipping container behind them.
Paul's eyes narrow.
"That's… an insider."
Robinson steps closer to the screen.
"If he knows you… then he probably knows you're an agent."
Marcus nods slowly.
"Exactly. Which means they're not just after Paul now. They could come after you too, Rob."
Silence. The tension thickens.
Paul looks at Robinson.
"We can't play it safe anymore. You need to be ready to go into the field."
Robinson's voice is firm.
"When do we start?"
Paul and Marcus exchange a glance.
Marcus replies, dead serious:
"Tonight. First mission—undercover infiltration into one of Zero Divide's underground garages. We need intel on Vance."