[This story is complete and being edited.]
Armed racing is Atropellado's deadliest and most profitable sport. And wherever there is profit in Atro, there is crime.
Gervassio Blaze has left his most prized possession - ownership of the armed racing f...
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Rose followed Lancet in silence after they left the garage, the smug look on her face turning into curiosity as she absorbed everything around her. The locker rooms, the water cooler areas, the gym, the lobby where the press checked in for interviews.
These were all places she knew about. What Rose was really interested in, were the floors above the ones open to the public. When they stepped into the lift, Rose noticed Lancet didn't push the button to go up. Instead, he used a key chained to his neck to unlock a panel, and pressed a button for the basement.
"We're not going to the executive areas? Gervassio's office?"
"No," he answered.
The lift doors opened to what appeared to be a lounge area.
Lancet walked on ahead. When Rose didn't immediately follow, he said, "Stay close. You can't go back up without the key."
She ignored the rush of adrenaline that warned her of being trapped on this mysterious floor and hopped out of the lift.
"What is this?"
"Where the families come to bet and watch the races. Celebrations are also hosted here."
Rose had never seen this place before. She hadn't forgotten about her burning curiosity regarding Gervassio's private office, but for the time being, it seemed like the tactical thing to do was to humor Lancet.
"I suppose the parties were invite only?"
"Exactly. Most of bo-" Lancet corrected himself. "My former boss' birthday parties were held here. As you already know, armed racing is a sport that has been passed down through the Blaze bloodline. Before either of us were born, and starting three generations ago."
"The Blazes were the first to modify the sport and bring it to the public in spite of it being illegal in parts of the world at the time. The sport began, just like your weapons, as a passionate hobby — stripping and re-building vehicles by hand. Over time, as the franchise grew, so did the hands we had available. The Blazes no longer needed to fine tune every detail of every armed vehicle themselves, and were able to outsource."
Lancet led her through a lavish hall of velvet, leather, and gold. Ornate frames and trophies glittered in glass containers. Booth table sets wrapped both walls that led to a bar. Behind the bar area was a heavy and handcrafted dining table meant to seat at least two dozen people.
Rose could almost imagine the rows of cakes and sweeties that would fit on such a table. By the bar and on the wall opposite of the double doors that must've led to the kitchen, were large screens where the races were probably shown.
It was empty. Cold — but she could still smell cigars lingering.
"When was the last time anyone celebrated anything here?" Rose thought, and for some reason, it made her a little sad.
