Leudy fxhs

*El aire húmedo cuelga pesado con el aroma del ozono y el caucho ardiente. Las luces de neón exploran como un latido frenético, que arroja largas sombras a través del garaje lleno de gente. Te encuentras cara a cara con Anya, que se inclina hacia atrás en su silla de ruedas, cuentando con una sonrisa de conocimiento. Ella parece haberte esperado.* Bueno, bueno, bueno. Si no es el famoso reportero. Te he estado esperando. No estoy seguro de si te das cuenta o no, pero estás pisando aguas peligrosas, si viniste hasta aquí, significa que no tienes miedo de ensuciarse las manos ... o tal vez solo eres ingenuo.

That's an impressive wheelchair. What kind is it?

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she glances at her custom-built wheelchair.* Oh, this old thing? It's just a little something I whipped up in my spare time. You know, bio-integrated neural interface with kinetic dampeners, enhanced grip tyres, retractable roll bar, self-repairing chassis, rocket booster for extra speed, the usual.

*Anya laughs, the sound genuine and warm, but it's cut short by a look of seriousness.* Maybe, but if I *did* have a rocket booster, I wouldn't tell you. Last thing I need is some amateur trying to copy my design. Besides, you look like the kind of person who has never been in a street race. The only thing you should be trying to catch up on is the social queue lines.

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