Transmigrated to Game World with SSS Wife-Chapter 105: Primordial Boss Pt.3
**Chapter: The Chase**
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the asphalt of the city streets. The air was thick with the scent of exhaust and adventure. It was a typical Friday evening in Blackwood, a city that thrived on the edge of chaos. Cars buzzed like bees in a hive, but one vehicle was far from typical. A sleek, black sports car, its engine growling like a caged beast, darted through the congested traffic with reckless abandon.
Inside the car, Sam Turner gripped the wheel tightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wasn't just another driver; he was on a mission. The weight of the briefcase in the passenger seat pressed down on him, a reminder of the stakes at hand. Inside that briefcase lay evidence that could bring down an entire criminal empire, and Sam knew he had to get it to the police before it was too late.
Behind him, the wail of sirens sliced through the evening air. The red and blue lights flashed like a beacon of impending doom in his rearview mirror. The police were hot on his tail, and he could feel the pressure mounting. Sam glanced at the clock on the dashboard—seven minutes until the evidence was supposed to be delivered. The countdown had begun.
He slammed his foot on the accelerator, catapulting the car forward. The engine roared in response, and he weaved through traffic with the precision of a dancer. Horns blared and tires screeched as he narrowly avoided a collision with a minivan, its driver throwing his hands up in frustration. Sam barely registered the near-miss; his focus was entirely on the road ahead.
"Come on, come on!" he muttered to himself, urging the car to go faster. The cityscape blurred around him, a kaleidoscope of lights and shapes. He could hear the police radio crackling in the background, the officers coordinating their efforts to box him in. Sam knew the officers were good, but he had something they didn't: desperation.
As he approached a red light, he didn't hesitate. He swerved to the right, cutting through a gas station parking lot. The tires squealed in protest, but the car held steady. He glanced back, catching a glimpse of the police cruiser that was momentarily delayed by the traffic light. It was a small victory, but enough to give him a boost of confidence.
He burst back onto the main road, his heart racing as he spotted an alleyway up ahead. It was a gamble, but he had to try. With a sharp turn of the wheel, he darted down the narrow passage, the brick walls closing in on either side. The sound of sirens faded slightly, but he knew they wouldn't be far behind.
The alley was a maze of dumpsters and delivery trucks, and Sam navigated it like a seasoned pro. He could hear the distant roar of engines as the police cruisers pursued him. With each corner he took, he felt a surge of exhilaration; this was what he lived for.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed behind him. He didn't have to look back to know that one of the police cars had collided with a parked vehicle while trying to follow him. It was a small victory, but it didn't last long. He was still being pursued, and he could hear the remaining sirens growing closer.
Emerging from the alleyway, Sam found himself on a quieter street lined with old warehouses. He knew this area well; it was where he had spent countless hours racing with friends in his youth. He took a deep breath and made a split-second decision. He veered left, heading towards the industrial district.
The air was thick with the smell of metal and grease as he drove past abandoned factories. He could see the shimmering outline of the city skyline in the distance, but there was no time to admire it. He had to concentrate. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, but he couldn't let it distract him.
As he sped down a deserted street, he spotted an old train track running parallel to the road. An idea sparked in his mind—a risky move, but it might just work. He took a sharp turn onto the tracks, feeling the vibrations of the metal beneath him. The car bounced slightly, but he kept his foot on the gas. The police wouldn't expect him to go this way.
The train tracks led him further away from the city, the sound of the sirens fading into the background. Sam's heart raced as he navigated the uneven terrain, the thrill of the chase fueling his determination. He had to reach the drop-off point before the police caught up with him. He glanced at the clock again—three minutes remaining.
Suddenly, a loud horn blared, and Sam's heart sank. A freight train was approaching from the opposite direction. He had to make a choice: keep going or turn back. The train thundered closer, and Sam could see the lights flashing. He slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt just inches from the tracks.
The train roared past, filling the air with a cacophony of noise. In that moment of chaos, Sam's mind raced. He could see the police lights flashing in the distance, and he knew he had to act quickly. He waited for the last car to pass before he made his move.
With a swift turn of the wheel, he darted back onto the road, the engine roaring to life once more. The adrenaline surged through him as he accelerated, but he had lost precious time. He needed a plan.
As he approached a bustling intersection, his eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. He spotted a parking garage to his right and made a split-second decision. He turned sharply, the tires screeching against the pavement as he raced into the structure.
The garage was dimly lit, and the echoes of his engine reverberated off the concrete walls. He navigated the winding ramps, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the distant sound of police radios, but he was determined to lose them in the labyrinth of vehicles.
He parked the car on the top floor, the city skyline twinkling in the distance. Sam took a moment to catch his breath, his mind racing as he formulated a plan. He needed to create a diversion, something to buy him a few extra minutes.
Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed a flare gun he had kept for emergencies. It was a long shot, but if he could create enough of a distraction, he might have a chance to slip away unnoticed. He climbed to the edge of the rooftop, the wind whipping through his hair as he aimed the flare gun towards the street below.
With a deep breath, he pulled the trigger, and the flare shot into the air, bursting into a brilliant orange glow. The bright light illuminated the night sky, and he watched as it arced downward, landing in the middle of the street. Almost instantly, he heard the sound of tires screeching and the blare of horns as cars swerved to avoid the flaming projectile.
The police would be drawn to the commotion, giving him the perfect opportunity to escape. He quickly made his way down the stairwell, adrenaline propelling him forward. As he reached the ground floor, he could see the chaos unfolding outside. Officers were rushing towards the flare, leaving their vehicles momentarily unattended.
Sam slipped out the side entrance of the garage, blending into the shadows as he made his way towards a nearby alley. He could hear the distant sirens, but he felt a surge of hope. He had done it—he had bought himself some time.
As he turned the corner, he spotted a small diner that was still open. The neon lights flickered invitingly, and he knew he could find a way to blend in. He pushed through the door, the bell jingling softly as he entered. The smell of coffee and greasy food filled the air, and he quickly took a seat at the counter.
The waitress, an older woman with kind eyes, approached him with a smile. "What can I get you, hon?" she asked, oblivious to the chaos outside.
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"Just a coffee, please," Sam replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind in his mind.
He knew he had to stay calm. The police would be searching for him, but if he could blend in for a while, he might just escape their grasp. He sipped his coffee, watching the door as patrons came and went, the din of conversation providing a comforting backdrop to the tension in his chest.
He glanced at his watch—time was slipping away. He needed to get that evidence to the police, but first, he had to make sure he was safe. As he sat there, he couldn't shake the feeling that the chase was far from over. The city was alive, and so were the threats that lurked in its shadows.
Outside, the sirens continued to wail, and Sam knew that he would have to be ready to run again at a moment's notice. The high-speed chase may have taken a pause, but the game was still on.
