Kael didn’t remember hitting any buttons. His 2019 Mercedes Sprinter, a rust-bucket work van he’d bought off a disgraced caterer, had never had a digital dash. Now it glowed like a command center.
He grabbed the wheel—more for comfort than control. Because in a hacked Sprinter, you weren’t the driver. hacked sprinter
Kael stared at the odometer—zero kilometers. A hacked Sprinter with a ghost life. His broke ass had stumbled into a war over secrets that moved faster than any cargo. Kael didn’t remember hitting any buttons