I stood in front of the mirror, fully dressed as the mysterious rider again. The helmet in my hands felt heavier than usual. My gloves were tight. My heartbeat was loud.

This is me… the version of me nobody knows, and the version of me nobody is supposed to see. I breathed out slowly and stepped out of the changing room.

My assistant was crouched beside the bike, tools scattered around him. His hair was messy, his clothes stained with grease, and he looked like he had a lot to worry ...