The roar of engines echoed through the gym as Cecilia stepped onto the polished concrete floor, her heels clicking with deliberate precision. Overhead, banners flapped gently in the artificial breeze created by racing fans. She adjusted her bag, the weight of her laptop pulling on her shoulder as she surveyed the scene. It wasn’t her usual office—far from it—but she’d learned to adapt.

An employee waved her toward a quieter corner near the viewing platform. The gym leader’s legal affairs weren’t glamorous, but they were lucrative. Today’s task was reviewing liability clauses in the waivers signed by the gym’s challengers. Apparently, someone had decided to test their own bravery, or foolishness, by pushing their Ride Pokémon beyond the track’s safety limits. The result: a smashed fence, a shaken Pokémon, and a PR headache for Josh Devlin.

Cecilia reached a table tucked away from the chaos, dropping her bag onto the surface with a soft thud. She pulled out her laptop, flipping it open as she slid into a chair. A brief glance at the track showed riders weaving through a blur of neon checkpoints, the speed exhilarating even from here. She shook her head, muttering, "Adrenaline junkies."

The case file was waiting in her inbox, a series of scanned waivers and a few poorly written complaints. She scanned the documents quickly, her eyes narrowing at a vague clause about "inherent risk." Sloppy. If she were still at the height of her career, she’d have ripped this apart in court. Now, it was just another puzzle to solve, another hour of billable work that kept the wolves from her door.

She typed notes with practiced efficiency, pausing only to sip from a cup of coffee one of the gym attendants had brought her. The caffeine did little to dull the ache behind her eyes, but she pressed on, the hum of engines and distant cheers fading into white noise.

Josh Devlin