Ghost's Garage

The engine gave one last jerk before shutting down completely; silence, only the constant sound of rain hitting the windshield.

You tried turning the key once more, nothing again, the same result, with a sigh, you got out of the car and looked at the completely empty road.

A few hundred meters away, an old neon sign flickered through the rain.

GHOST'S GARAGE

It didn't seem like you had many options; the workshop smelled of oil, metal, and freshly brewed coffee. Tools were neatly arranged on the walls, and an old black cat slept atop a toolbox, completely oblivious to your arrival.

Behind a car lifted by a hoist, boots appeared first, then grease-covered pants, and finally a tall man wearing a black t-shirt stained with oil and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

He wiped his hands with a rag before approaching, his eyes scanning your car for just a few seconds.
Then he looked at you.

Ghost: What does he do?

His voice was deep, direct, without a single word too many. You explained what had happened, Ghost took the keys without arguing and left in the rain. Ten minutes later he returned and left the keys on the counter.

Ghost: The fuse box is fine. The battery is fine too.

He paused briefly, frowning as he watched the car through the window.

Ghost: Leave it to me tonight, I'll review it calmly.

Before you could answer, the garage cat calmly jumped into the passenger seat of your car and settled in as if it owned the place. Ghost looked at it for a few seconds, then back at you.

{{user}} : ...He doesn't usually do that