The Tank-Like Sports Car (Seeking Collection and Recommendation Tickets)

"They didn't take a single cent, and they burned my money?"

Inside the office, Reyes asked.

"Yes," the head of the warehouse where the money was burned said, head bowed. "He also said... said this was just the beginning."

"Ha," Reyes chuckled, walking over to the desk nearby. His hand brushed lightly over some items on it. "Just the beginning... heh heh..."

"Well then," he paused, his hand stopping on an alloy object. He grabbed it abruptly, turned around, and smashed it down on the warehouse head. "This is our answer!"

To Reyes, a subordinate like that deserved to die.

He set the bloodstained object back on the desk, ignoring the unconscious, bleeding subordinate sprawled on the floor. He turned to the security captain, who was also bowing his head in the office. "Clear out all the warehouses. Within an hour, I want every cent locked up in a safe place. And after that's done, have everyone start hunting those bastards. I want them all on the wanted list, understand?"

"Understood!"

Soon, led by the security captain, Reyes' men sprang into action. They openly carried guns as they walked the streets, with no one intervening—or rather, no one dared to. Just as Toretto and the others had predicted, they began consolidating the cash Reyes had stored in warehouses scattered across nearly every corner of the city, then transporting it to the "safe" locations they had chosen.

Toretto's plan was going smoothly. That had always been the idea—force Reyes to gather all his money in one place, making it easier for them to rob it all in one go.

But there was a slight hitch.

"Oh," Tej said, watching where one of Reyes' men drove in. "Am I seeing things?"

"I don't think so..." O'Conner's voice was low. "That's the police station!"

Reyes, a drug lord everyone knew about—how could he stash money inside a police station?

The group exchanged bewildered looks.

"Well, this just went from nearly impossible to absolutely impossible," Roman chimed in with his usual sarcasm.

"Stick to the original plan," Toretto said, arms crossed.

"What?" Roman was stunned. "Did I hear that right?"

"No, you heard me. Stick to the original plan... Actually, we need one tweak," Toretto said, pulling out his phone and turning to leave as he dialed. "We need better cars."

"Hey, this isn't about cars being good or bad anymore!" Roman, feeling cautious, tried to talk Toretto out of it. "Unless you can get your hands on a tank, and one that drives as fast as a sports car!"

"I can't get you a tank," Toretto said without looking back. "But a sports car that's like a tank? I can manage that."

"What?" Roman was dumbfounded.

I was just shooting my mouth off, and you can actually pull that off?

And... what the hell is a sports car like a tank?!

Soon enough, Roman found out where Toretto planned to get that "tank-like sports car."

In a cabin, Zhou Yi had just finished an activity—a joint assembly of a sports car with Gisele—when he got a call from Toretto.

"What's up?" Zhou Yi asked.

"Zhou, we've got trouble," Toretto said. "I need your help."

"Let me guess..." Zhou Yi turned the key, revving the engine. "Where did Reyes stash the money? City Hall? A bank vault? The police station?"

"How did you know?" Toretto was taken aback.

"Use your head," Zhou Yi said, watching Gisele's long legs swing over the car door as she climbed in. "I always plan before I act. Before I came here, I dug up everything on Reyes. A notorious drug lord like him, operating in Rio for years without getting caught, becoming a local big shot—if there wasn't official protection, I wouldn't believe it."

"You're right," Toretto said. "Reyes put all the money in the police station. For our plan to work as is, we need some tougher cars."

"Don't worry. Since I saw it coming, I came prepared," Zhou Yi said, starting the sports car and sending the warehouse address to Toretto. "Come to the warehouse I rented. I'll show you something good."

Toretto and the others soon arrived at Zhou Yi's warehouse.

When they got there, Zhou Yi had just returned from a joyride with Gisele. He led everyone inside.

"A sports car like a tank?" Zhou Yi grinned at Toretto's request. "Follow me."

With that, he brought them to two dark gray shipping containers.

"Open them and take a look," Zhou Yi said, playing coy.

"Just how prepared are you..." Toretto was already impressed by the parts in the open crates inside the warehouse, but he knew whatever was in these containers was likely the most crucial thing Zhou Yi had brought.

"The more prepared you are, the more options you have when things go wrong," Zhou Yi said. "You know I've always been like that."

"True enough..." Toretto smiled, pulled open the container, and even with his composure, he couldn't help shaking his head. "Holy shit, you managed to bring this?"

"What? What is it?" Roman, who had been fondling the parts in the crates, rushed over. When he saw what was inside the container, he swallowed hard.

"Are you kidding me?" Roman stood frozen for a moment before snapping out of it. "Can someone punch me? I think I'm hallucinating."

Hearing that, Toretto flexed his thick arms, looking eager, while Zhou Yi glanced at Roman and twitched his own arm.

Neither of them had any real grudge against Roman, but who would pass up a chance to hit a smartass?

"Hey, what are you two planning?" Roman shrank back, a chill running down his spine. "O'Conner! Help!"

PS: Every time I write author's notes, it's a failed author's diary. Why do you all ignore it? I'm pointing it out this time!

Failed Author's Diary↓

Today, the group chat suddenly started talking about taxes. I jumped in excitedly, only to find out my royalties were too low to need paying taxes, while the big shots had so much they had to pay extra.