Redline, a shadow in Neo-Kowloon's neon maze, chased credits and ghosts through the Drowned Quarter. Their path, paved with broken promises and shattered chrome, ended not with a bang, but with a groan of tortured steel. They fell, not to a rival's blade, but to the indifferent maw of forgotten machinery, swallowed by the city's churning heart. A life lived on the edge, extinguished in the depths, leaving only echoes in the thrumming dark.