The police in Rockport aren’t like the ones back home. When the sirens start, they don't just follow; they hunt. You hear the chatter over the scanner—Rhino units are positioning for a head-on collision, and a helicopter is already overhead, kicking up dust and blocking your path.

You drop a gear. The turbo whistles. You aren't just driving to win; you’re driving to take back what’s yours.

There are 15 drivers between you and the top spot. Razor, the guy who rigged your ride and stole your status, is sitting at #1, laughing from the throne. To get to him, you have to tear through the industrial districts, drift around the tight corners of the boardwalk, and survive the "heat."