Kapitel 4: Chapter 4: A New Frontier – The Streets of Los Angeles
The plane touched down at LAX with a soft thud, jolting Michael from his thoughts. He had spent the last two years in the shadows, slipping through warzones, jungles, and cities unseen. But now, as he looked out at the sprawling lights of Los Angeles, he felt a different kind of energy.
This was where it all began.
Michael stretched his legs as he walked through the airport, duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the crowd instinctively, the habit of assessing threats still deeply ingrained. But here, no one knew who he was. No one knew the ghost of a man who had operated behind the scenes as a mercenary. To them, he was just another face in the crowd.
A part of him liked it that way.
Sign-in available: Los Angeles International Airport.
Michael grinned at the familiar notification. Even after all this time, the system never failed to give him a sense of anticipation. He mentally confirmed the sign-in.
Sign-in complete. Congratulations! You have received: Advanced Driving Skills (Level 2).
The knowledge flowed into him like a stream of information. His understanding of cars, how they handled, how to manipulate them to the absolute limits of physics, all became clearer. It wasn't as if he had been bad at driving before; he had spent enough time behind the wheel during mercenary missions. But now, it was as if he could feel the engine hum through the frame, sense every tire as it hit the asphalt.
A perfect skill for what was coming next.
The Next Step
Michael's arrival in Los Angeles wasn't random. He had left the world of mercenary work behind for a reason. The system hadn't just brought him here to give him skills—it was drawing him toward something bigger. The underworld here was a far cry from the battlefields and covert missions he had come to know, but it was dangerous in its own right.
Street racing. High-stakes crime. And power struggles that rivaled any warzone he'd been in.
As he exited the airport and hailed a cab, Michael's mind was already moving ahead. The people he needed to meet. The places he needed to be. He wasn't exactly walking into an unknown world; his time spent in the mercenary world had brought him plenty of intel on the scene.
One name stood out above all the rest: Dominic Toretto.
Dom was more than just a street racer. He was a king in his own right, ruling over a close-knit group of drivers, friends, and family. To some, he was a hero. To others, a criminal. But to Michael, Dom represented the next piece of his puzzle.
A New Base of Operations
After a short drive, Michael found himself in a quiet neighborhood on the edge of the city. It wasn't luxurious, but it was perfect for what he needed—a safe house, a place where he could operate quietly. He had purchased the modest two-story house using some of the money he had earned during his mercenary years. To any casual observer, it was an unremarkable home. But to Michael, it was the ideal base of operations.
As he stepped inside, his mind cataloged everything. The layout, the exits, the security vulnerabilities—it was an instinct he couldn't turn off. But this time, he wasn't preparing for a mission in a hostile country. This time, he was preparing for a different kind of war.
He dropped his duffel bag on the couch and took a deep breath. Los Angeles had a pulse, a rhythm that was different from anywhere else he had been. He could feel the potential, the opportunities that awaited him in the underground racing world.
But first, he had to integrate himself into that world. And that started with getting closer to Dom.
Gaining Ground
The next few weeks were spent adjusting to the city's rhythm. Michael wasn't one to sit still, so when he wasn't working out or testing his new driving skills in the canyons, he was gathering intel. He frequented car shops, garages, and underground meetups, always keeping his ear to the ground for information on Dom's crew.
It didn't take long for him to hear about the race scene—where the best drivers competed, and where Dom Toretto's name was spoken with equal parts awe and fear. But it was a tight-knit world, and breaking into it wasn't easy.
One night, Michael found himself at one of the biggest underground race meets in the city. The air was thick with the smell of exhaust and burnt rubber, the sound of engines revving cutting through the chatter of the crowd. Neon lights bathed the scene in an otherworldly glow, and cars lined the streets like a parade of beasts ready to unleash their power.
Michael's gaze swept the scene, searching for familiar faces. He wasn't expecting to see Dom tonight, but it wouldn't be long before their paths crossed.
Sign-in available: Underground Race Meet.
Michael mentally acknowledged the prompt.
Sign-in complete. Congratulations! You have received: High-Performance Tuning Skills (Level 1).
A rush of new knowledge filled his mind. He now understood every intricate detail of how to tune a car for optimal performance. Suspension, engine tweaks, tire pressure adjustments—he could transform any car into a race-ready machine.
It was exactly the edge he needed.
The Encounter
As Michael leaned against his car, watching the races unfold, he caught sight of a woman making her way through the crowd. She was lean, with dark hair pulled back and a swagger in her step that screamed confidence. It didn't take long for him to recognize her.
Letty Ortiz.
Dom's right hand and one of the best drivers in the city. If there was a way into Dom's crew, she would be the one to open the door.
Letty's eyes scanned the crowd, clearly on the lookout for something—or someone. Michael watched her for a moment before stepping forward. He didn't say anything right away, just positioned himself in her line of sight. She noticed him immediately, her gaze narrowing as she sized him up.
"You looking for something?" she asked, her tone casual but with an edge.
Michael smirked. "Maybe. Heard this is where the best drivers in the city hang out."
Letty raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You don't look like a racer."
"Looks can be deceiving," he replied smoothly. "But I didn't come here to impress anyone. I came to race."
Letty crossed her arms, studying him for a moment before nodding toward the street. "That your ride?"
Michael glanced back at his car—a sleek, black Nissan GT-R, heavily modified with parts he had tuned himself. It wasn't the flashiest car here, but it was built for speed and control.
"Yeah," he said. "You wanna see what it can do?"
Letty's lips curled into a small smile. "I'm not racing you. But if you wanna prove you belong here, you can take on one of the locals."
Michael shrugged. "Fair enough."
The First Race
The race was set up quickly. His opponent, a cocky driver named Rafe, was a local who had a reputation for being fast and arrogant. He drove a heavily modified Mustang, and from the way the crowd reacted when he revved his engine, it was clear he had a lot of fans.
Michael, on the other hand, was a newcomer. No one knew his name, and no one expected him to win.
But that was exactly how he liked it.
As the countdown began, Michael's focus narrowed. The roar of the crowd faded away, and all he could hear was the hum of his engine and the steady beat of his heart.
Three… Two… One…
The moment the flag dropped, Michael slammed his foot down, the GT-R roaring to life as it shot forward like a bullet. Rafe was fast, but Michael was faster. His hands moved with precision on the wheel, his body reacting instinctively to every shift in the road.
It wasn't just his skill behind the wheel; it was the system's upgrades that gave him the edge. The advanced driving skills, the tuning—everything had been leading to this moment.
Within seconds, he was ahead of Rafe, weaving through the streets with deadly accuracy. The Mustang tried to catch up, but it was no use. Michael's GT-R was too fast, too responsive.
By the time he crossed the finish line, the crowd was in stunned silence. Rafe's Mustang screeched to a halt behind him, the driver cursing under his breath.
Michael stepped out of his car, locking eyes with Letty. She was still leaning against a nearby car, arms crossed, watching him with a newfound interest.
"Not bad," she said, pushing off the car and walking toward him. "Not bad at all."
Michael smirked. "I told you. Looks can be deceiving."
Letty nodded, a spark of something—maybe respect—flickering in her eyes. "Dom's gonna want to meet you."
Michael's smirk widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."
End of Chapter 4
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein