Leon was still stunned when the garage floor suddenly rumbled open.
Letty's eyes widened as she turned—parked in the underground bay was a bright red hypercar.
It was mid-engine, sleek, elegant, its presence rivaling the most iconic supercars.
Twin triangular LED headlights gave it a seductive, almost predatory look.
Beneath them, aerodynamic splitters and a narrow grille gave the impression of a beautiful but dangerous woman.
Its fastback body was sculpted almost entirely from carbon fiber.
A set of 21-inch five-spoke alloys made it scream performance.
And like Leon's Silver Marauder, it wasn't powered by fuel at all—
inside was a nuclear generator.
Still, it wasn't quite on the Marauder's level.
Top speed: 500 km/h.
Not the raw power of Leon's machine, but built for handling.
At high speeds, its downforce gave it unrivaled cornering ability.
The custom tires weren't as hardcore as Leon's, but far more durable—no need to swap rubber after every drift.
In short: weaker than the Silver Marauder, but a monster compared to anything else on the road.
For Letty, though?
Hitting 300 km/h would already be pushing her limits.
"Damn… that's beautiful," Letty whispered, circling the car, running her hand along its curves.
It felt like fate—love at first sight.
Who would've thought a "simple" mechanic's garage had a multimillion-dollar hypercar hidden underground?
Was this Leon's style?
Living low-key, playing the part of the ordinary man… while hiding toys worth tens of millions?
"This one's called the Medusa S. The 'S' stands for 'slalom'—she's built for curves."
Leon folded his arms, smiling.
"You've decided to join my team. No racer goes without a car. This one's yours."
Letty's eyes lit up. "For real?"
"Yeah." He tossed her the key fob. "Take her out. See how she feels."
She fumbled but caught it, overwhelmed by the rush of joy.
Her own supercar.
Gifted to her by him.
Her heart skipped—when a man gave a woman a car like this, it meant something.
Blushing, she slid into the driver's seat.
The interior was luxurious—red-and-white leather, a carbon-fiber dash, a digital display with touchscreen controls.
Minimalist, but elegant.
She gripped the wheel, trembling with excitement.
"The Medusa tops out at 500. But you're not ready for that yet," Leon warned.
"Don't get carried away. She'll bite if you push too hard."
Letty glanced at the gauge cluster—her jaw dropped.
The speedometer went up to 600 km/h.
A buffer, of course—reserved for when nitrous was engaged.
Which meant… the Medusa could go even faster.
She swallowed hard, nodded, then fired her up.
The Medusa S roared alive, her first entrance.
The note of her engine—familiar, yet different from the Silver Marauder.
Not as savage, but still exhilarating.
Letty didn't care. To her, this was more than enough.
She knew—if Leon had something even stronger, he'd never hand it over.
The Medusa was hers now, and that was all that mattered.
Leon watched her roll out of the garage. He figured it would be an hour or two before she came back.
Just then, Pasha stepped out, clutching her phone, worry etched on her face.
"Leon, we've got trouble."
"Huh?" He raised a brow.
She handed him the screen. "Your race got leaked. Someone's issued you a challenge."
Leon immediately thought of that Bugatti Chiron.
The guy he'd dusted before—left him behind in disbelief.
If anyone wanted a rematch, it'd be him.
Sure enough—one glance at the video feed and Leon recognized the car.
The same Bugatti. The same color, same streetscape.
No doubt about it.
Scrolling through O'Neill's post, Leon realized this wasn't just any challenger.
O'Neill was one of the West Coast's elite street racers, a name spoken in the same breath as Dominic Toretto.
Now he was in Los Santos, throwing down a public challenge.
This wasn't just about pride—it was about deciding who truly deserved the title of West Coast Street King.
Ding!
New mission unlocked: Win the "West Coast Ascension" race. Reward: +1 Level, Electronic Adaptive Rubber Body, Massive Cash Payout.
The rewards were no joke.
Leon smirked. "A challenge, huh? Fine. I'll take it."
And with Letty now on his crew, the timing was perfect.
This race could be her trial by fire.
"I'm worried they'll gang up on you," Pasha warned.
"Dom and O'Neill—they're both American. You're not. Don't forget what this country's like. They could team up to take you down."
Breaking through would be nearly impossible.
Leon chuckled, unshaken.
"If they want to screw me, they'll have to keep up first."
He still had trump cards hidden away.
And he wasn't about to lose.