The stadium erupted into a thunderous roar as the crowd's favorite entered the track with the bright red '404' on the side of his car. The favorite was none other than the person that Andrei was currently impersonating, who entrusted him with the task of ensuring that his legacy did not crumble to pieces, while he worked simultaneously to recover stolen national secrets before the race ended.
This event might have been organized for upper class entertainment, but the stadium was also packed with racing fans of the middle class who would rather sit uncomfortably in this humid place than sleep cozily in cool air conditioning at home. Since I was an alma mater of the latter group, I wanted to quickly put this mission to bed and go home, even though I wasn't in the stands. Not to mention, the
