A few days later.
Rainy night, overpass, a Maybach speeding.
Minamoto Tamako, in a raincoat, holding a GPS tracker, squats beside the highway's rightmost guardrail, spotting headlights from afar.
She flings a spike strip across the highway, lightning pierces the sky, the spikes reflecting cold light.
The Maybach screeches to a halt, white smoke emerging amid the rain, a piercing friction sound follows, the car body pushed by inertia gliding forward, the tires rolling over the spikes, producing several explosions followed by a series of thumping sounds.
Minamoto Tamako retrieves the spike strip and looks back, seeing the Maybach sliding, drifting ten meters ahead, finally coming to a stable stop on the highway.
The other cars stream past, Minamoto Tamako seizes the gap, reaches into her waist, grips the gun handle, jogs over, maintaining a safe distance from the Maybach, step by step adjusting her angle, looks toward the car window only to find the driver's seat empty.
