No trophies were handed out that night. The Top Run never asked for hardware; it kept memories — of daring entries, last-second recoveries, and the exact cadence of a tuned engine. Back at the gathering point, laughter bubbled like exhaust. Wrenches were shown off like medals. Someone toasted the Covet; someone else joked about the SBR's temper. Kai's hands were greasy and steady. He'd won a thing larger than first place: the confidence that a carefully tuned, less glamorous car could be top, if not in speed, then in spirit.