by .59
Everyone waits in silence for quite a while.. once the silence becomes too much, radio messages start being relayed.
No response.
This was a bad situation... a very bad situation... after hearing no activity over the radio for a while, things get sorta worrisome.
Stef calls up pav and they go speeding off down the course in the aristo to find out what's happening. because even in the most serious of races, OZ responds to the radio atleast after a while. this time there was no response. at all.
The crowd knew there was something wrong aswell, because «
796ps and 1380kg of black aristo is flying up the wangan as if it were in a race, spitting huge orange flames on every upshift as pav pushes the car to the redline on every change going up the nearly empty bayside line.
«
Back in the garage, Dal gets wind of police activity and tells pav to watch his speed... which is about 322km/h at the moment, and he's nearing the crash scene. so being precautionary, he remotely flips down the blackout license plate cover and presses on.
As they near the fukagawa line, stef begins to hear sirens, and seconds later they pass those sirens that just happen to be on the way to the exact same inncident, as pav still hasnt slowed down yet.
The S75 is not too far behind when the silver flash of their car also catches the police offguard.
As they near the wreck, there's increased traffic since the entire freeway is blocked.. so naturally things are slowed down to a crawl, and the S-Class catches up with the aristo.
The two cars ride the shoulder until they reach the crash. and the entire time, they see flashes going off and people staring over at the incredibly done-up VIP cars.. they press on, ignoring the attention. as they get closer, they see an orange glow and know things cant be good. it's just as bad as they thought.. all the cars involved are in flames thanks to the flammable load the truck was carrying.. the F1 is crumpled up like a ball of paper. the only things recognizable on it are a few suspension pieces and the wheels.. the mirage didnt fare much better. the frame's mostly intact.. but the body melted off long ago.. and those magnesium wheels are just magnesium chunks on the ground..
Feroci rushes over to the flaming debris pile first... the mirage is empty.. and there's nothing there.. there is a visible pool of blood a few feet away... but that doesnt make sense.. there's blood but no body? whatever, there are other things to worry about. seeing no signs of OZ, they look for other drivers affected. they first go to the truck.. the innocent bystanders in the collision, and pulls them from the wreckage unconscious. being a lawyer, pav knows the extent to which they can help in this situation. he and stef pulls them from the wreckage and makes sure they're safe until the proper authorities arrive. «
Pav and stef have a worse job. they have to wait until the police get there and tell what happened... and there's still the matter of OZ being nowhere in sight.
The police, paramedics, and fire department arrive a few minutes later and thank them for their services... and also want to give them a good round of questioning.. back at the police station.
Not happening.
Stef and pav hop back into the car and speed off toward the C1 line while being chased by 5 police cars. 2 Crowns, a Gloria, an R34, and that bastard undercover cop in that yellow RX-7... only the RX-7 is a threat for catching them. they go blasting around the nearly-empty C1 which is basically deserted thanks to the traffic blockage a few km back. they reach the offramp that takes you to the yokohane line and floor it back down to the wangan to hide the car. the RX-7 ended up overheating, and no description of the car was made in the heat of the chase.
So all was basically well.. besides the injured racers.. the burned wrecks of the cars..
Wait…
In all of this noone has yet found or heard from OZ.. where is he? is he even alive?
Everyone waits in suspense when they finally get a call from a local hospital.. it's OZ. he's just fine.. just a few cuts, a broken thumb, and a sprained wrist.
"How'd you get THERE?!" uzer asked.
"Funny story actually... i was sitting there stuck in my car unconscious, and i woke up... not 30 seconds after the accident. i felt the glass from my windscreen hit my face... that's where my cuts came from.." he said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "sorry!" is heard in the background. "there was some guy on my bonnet kicking at the glass to wake me up, and he pulled me out. i didnt recognise him until he took me to his car... it was the same white car i had seen behind me for most of the race as a matter of fact."
"So who was it?" uzer asks.
"Pink wheels."
"Oh." uzer says.. "well.. get your ass better, because you still have racing to do!" he says jokingly. they both laugh and end the phone call.
But uzer still has something less than a smile on his face after the good news.
Atsushi (the executive) wasnt the fastest driver on the team.. he just had the most expensive car. now that he's below his best, he may decide to hand over the car to the team's fastest driver... fujita ikeda.. "macabre" once that name was heard, things got serious. macabre has actually killed other drivers while racing in his 16 years of street racing. with no remorse.
Winning is the ONLY thing that matters in his book. so feroci may be getting into more than it can handle with this rivalry.
"This is the resurgence of racing blood indeed." uzer thinks before he relays the good... and bad news.
The End
The Resurgence of Racing Blood... / Part Five
The Resurgence of Racing Blood... / Part Four
By OZ
A cold windy rain windy makes her dance over the wangan kanjou, leaving over the roads a dangerous wet imperceptible surface. The parking lot is crowded, really crowded, lots of people coming from almost all parts of
After some minutes of waiting and chatting with the people around there, they hear the famous symphony of V12 and V8 exotics coming by, their nemesis are arriving, the «Tokyo Fastest» team and their high priced machines. All their engine sounds can be hear for the distance, making the crowd go crazy about it. Lately, they were the only team who could put up a real fight to the house owner’s, making almost all the other challenging teams look like shrimps. They enter the parking lot driving fast, as the usual show they put out before each race, coming to park their rides facing the Feroci garage doors. One parking spot is not filled, their leader, still didn’t arrive. And the spot is right in front of OZ’s car…
“See… he wants me…” OZ says, looking at .59. “But this time there’s no way I’m gonna miss it”
“Yeah, but what if he brings the enzo out?” .59 replies, hearing the thundering sound of a V12 coming by
“We will be fucked… just plain as that… but still I’ll try it out, we need to know what they did to the car so far…” OZ replies, going to get his car keys to heat up it.
As the sound gets closer, they see the usual orange shaped car coming down the street. Looks like the enzo is not ready, since he brought his F1 along him… They feel a little less worried, since the sound of the engine is a bit different, meaning that once again the car was modificated. The leader parks right in front of OZ’s car as expected, everyone knows that once again he’ll be the one to race tonight’s first race…
Uzers approach OZ and ask him if he still wants to race him, the modifications on his car may not be enough to face the F1 again, but OZ still want to try it. For him, that’s the only way to know if his car is still the fastest one. Uzers agree with his decision and goes to talk with “The Executive”, «Tokyo Fastest» leader about the race plan. They decided for a short lap going through a small part of wangan and shikanjo CWL. It shouldn’t take more than 15mins to do it, which were good, since the cops wouldn’t find out about the race fast enough to get’em into trouble. “The Executive” agrees with the race plans, and looks over to OZ and laughs, he points to his car and make a negative signal, showing his confidence on his ride. But OZ is know for not being a hot head, and reply by just slamming shut his driver door and starting his engine. The famous thundering noise of his twin turbo V6 sounds somewhat different, more heavy and powerful… the new command lines for the he engine CPU seems to do the trick, and he feels more confident of his car. He puts the 1st gear and moves towards the onramp… waiting for his rival… The F1 follows him as well, constantly revving the engine to shows that he’s up to the fight to… Taking away the silence of the crowd, which knows what is at stake now.
As they hit the freeway, the roll up to 100km/h till they hit the Tatsumi JCT rest area. The race is on. The F1 right by start shoot by the off ramp, reaching the wangan section in no seconds. This is where he takes his advantage, the long straight road is like a heaven for such a car, giving OZ trouble to follow him close. He gained an enormous advantage by the time he reached the Ooi JCT Haneda 1 onramp, forcing OZ to turn the over boost on. He manages to get himself closer, hopping to take advantage of the tight windy of the rest of the lap, but as the same time, he realizes that he can’t use the over boost again, since his car got to hot for a second push.
Both cars rip past the onramp like bullets, slaloming through the traffic like madmen’s. The F1 in front, the mirage glued to its tail. “The Executive” tries every trick he knows to take OZ out of his back, but the road doesn’t help him. His overpowered car can’t shake him off and deal with the dangerous wet asphalt at the same time, making it twice as harder for him to succeed. OZ, as also, is having trouble to find a small passage and gain the front, knowing that once he do this… all the way till the end will be his, as the 4wd gives him a hell of advantage on the wet…
But the inexpectable happens… as they reach the Shibaura JCT off ramp, both are nearing 280km/h. The F1 pulls slight forward on the downhill, reaching for the Hamasaki Bridge C1 Inner ramp. “The Executive” pulls a sadistic grim on his face as he looks on the rear view mirror seeing his advantage over OZ, and for just a second he didn’t notice a small truck, changing lanes to enter the C1 Outer ramp. He slams the brakes and twists the steering wheel, trying to avoid a head on collision. But it’s too late… the F1 promptly refuses to brake, aquaplaning on the curve, and hitting both the truck and the sidewall, ending spinning on the middle of the road. OZ sees the accident and tries to avoid it, but the wet asphalt is hungry for more blood. He shifts down once just to see the F1 coming spinning at his way… He pushes the side brake and spin his car, hitting the F1 sideways at nearly 170km/h… the strong collision, put he out of cold. His car spin some time more, coming to hit the sidewall wall and making a high flip, tearing and splitting the rear apart on it’s lands…
On the parking loot everybody waits the conclusion of the race in silence… wanting to knows who’s gonna be the winner…
Continue...
The Resurgence of Racing Blood... / Part Three
by .59
Why was .59 so distraught?
He's normally the idiot that has others running scared about what's under the engine covers on his cars.. but in this case there was no snide remark or idiotic comment...
That silence was because in the photos, he saw a car that was familiar.. known.. and not an everyday tune...
It was a finely tuned race prepared street weapon.
... and he knew this because this was one he prepared HIMSELF.
That's right, «
.59 now regrets selling the car in
"These photos..... i know this car.." he says, pointing at the surveillance photos from the nurburgring... "if i had known they were the ones purchasing it, it wouldve never changed hands..."
But all that was in the past... atleast the car's something we KNOW about...
I just need to build a new car....that enzo's hell on wheels... and nearly nothing is going to take it easily.
He walks back over to his garage stall and starts drawing up plans for a new car... meant to keep up and possibly kill off the Ex-Feroci enzo from «
This situation is TRULY grave... «
They have one of ours.
After considering things and talking things over with OZ, Dal, and Stef for a bit, the mood lightens and .59 went back to work on tuning up a new car to take the place as god of wangan.. to topple the new racing empire built by «
Continue...
The Resurgence of Racing Blood... / Part Two
by OZ
Upon the arrival of .59 from his vacations, OZ gladly cheers up. Finally he’ll take some rest. Even if the situation is not one of the best for it. Day after day he’s battling the «Tokyo Fastest» team in a no night rest basis, trying to keep’em as the second fastest team over the kanjou line. Alongside him on the battles was Groundride. The only other member with a car capable of its Wangan duties, making their selfs the teams honor protectors while .59 absence. Stefaan and Tchuck were out of commission. Their cars were under tuning development, while ZAP and Wiseboi were out due their personal life living.
Two cars, against a team of tuned exotics… damage were bound to happen.
OZ’s car was looking more like a train wreck under the hood. Constantly pushing the engine to it’s limits to top several Ferraris and Lamborghinis, and having no real time to make the necessary repairs over it. The last races were becoming more dangerous that they were used to be from times to times. Brakes, gear failures, turbos malfunctions, overheating problems… one night even the wing was showing damage due a intentional collision during a race. But he kept going on, doing whatever was possible to race night after night. Groundride was no different, but still his car was in better shape since he could rely a bit more on his germanic Porsche technology to suffer less from races.
Even though .59 came up with a new ride, it’s still the 3 of they against a team of 6 exotics. No easy task at all. At the garage he finds OZ with a laptop connected to his car engine CPU. He was tweaking it a bit more, the last night lost wasn’t expected, which means that they have pumped that F1 a lot more. “Money talks and makes”… both though…
“So, what are you up to?” .59 asks, looking over the command lines on the laptop screen.
“I’m trying to correct some imperfection over the sparkplugs timing, as well editing the valve time to work better with the turbo… their efficiency are not 100% like they used to be…” OZ replies.
“How much pressure they are working now? Says .59 looking at the damaged turbo gasket.
“1.7 bar at normal and 2.5 with over boost… it overheats a lot but the engine is hanging, and since I have only one race at night, it gives time to cool it off.” OZ responds with his mind buried on the laptop.
“Yeah, I know, but still it’s too much power thrust to the chassis, you know that the mirage chassis can’t handle that all the time. Even with all the reinforcement you made, it wasn’t developed to hold all of it all of the time. But no problem, you can take it easy now, I’ll take on that F1 and handle their ass on a silver plate tonight.” Says .59 while opening the engine bay of his newly Diablo for an inspection.
“Sorry, but, no. The F1 is mine!” Says OZ pausing his work
”Are you nuts?” .59 looks astonished. “You got the guts, but you don’t need to prove it to us anymore, besides, you can’t take on him forever… sooner or later you’re gonna screw yourself.”
“It’s a risk, and I accepted it by the time I joined. I’m not backing up from him, and letting you race him tonight will make me look like “I’m not up to fight no more and need you guys to cover me up”, which you know it’s not true. Every night these guys show up, boasting their cars with the last technology available on the market. Trying not only to take our title, but also trying to put us down bad. And every night we do the possible to show’em that technology is nothing without ability. Besides, there’s something more behind this. I could sense it from the beginning, and one of these days I saw something that you might find interesting.”
“Yeah? What?”
“I was driving in the airport district in my cube. I went there to get some suspension parts I ordered from my shop back in
“A enzo? Crap, not that my Diablo can’t easily take on it, stock enzos are fast, but still beatable…” .59 think aloud.
“Who said stock? Look at this…” OZ grabs file folder inside one of the tools closet and give it to .59. It’s a bunch of surveillance pictures from the “Ocelot Race Shop”, where they can see lots of really highly tuned exotics and a completely striped black enzo. “Uzer’s ordered it, he said it was about time to us to know more about what we’re are facing, and so far, the prospective it’s nowhere good… take a look at these pictures, they were took yesterday…” OZ says as he gives .59 another folder filled with pictures…
.59 remains in silence as he browse the folder… his expression clearly shows that the situation is worst than he thought…
Continue...
Interlude
by Groundride
Groundride, sensing racing atoe and afoot, gets into the trusty ole' 944 grabs his wallet and then proceeds to look for the car he's nicknamed "the stealth bomber," which is relatively stealth when the engine isn't running. once fired up, it's a bit hard to miss though, so he's thinking of renaming it "the seemingly stealthish superb sounding supercar" and painting the front to look something like a mouth.. maybe later
The Resurgence of Racing Blood... / Part One
by .59
Things are going as normal whilst the gang reconstructs after a streak of losses from their main rivals from «Tokyo's Fastest» a group of executives with fast, tuned exotics. one by one.. Feroci's members challenged, and one by one, they fell.
Eventually everyone fell into disrepair.. members left... disheartened with their loss of place as the best. a few stuck around to ride it out. those few kept each other going and brought us back to where we now stand.. and knowing what we have to do..
Weeks ago, OZ contacted me on my vacation, and told me the status of the team. and upon hearing it, i brushed it off.. i'm on vacation after all.. i have other concerns. time passed, things got worse and eventually i was contacted by the team leader..
"we NEED to win this race"
I understood that and headed back to my private garage to take on a project that will most definitely extinguish «Tokyo's Fastest» and send them back to their rightful place.. as the SECOND fastest team on the bayside line.
- just then the rumble of a 3.2 liter twinturbocharged V6 stirs the air.. it's normal.. it's just OZ coming back from defending the team's honor against the random exotics of «
As he puts things away for the night, the uncommon roar of twelve cylinders is heard off in the distance.. and it's not the normal 12-cylinder howl... it's different in some way... everyone around here's used to the executives coming down and boasting about their performance capabilities thanks to their greater displacement. so they know 12s when they hear them..
This one was familiar...
Eerily familiar.
2 yellow lamps cut through the night and noone knows what to expect...
Then they see the small white and orange sticker on the nose...
And see just why the exhaust sound was so familiar.
Oh no... it's a damned hamster... THAT psycho's back...
And with that, the demise of «
Exotic power now has eccentric power to deal with. again.
Continue...
A Normal Day
by Groundride
Groundride woke up slowly to the sound of a garbage truck outside at 15 minutes past
Then, with a stroke of amazing luck, Groundride realized that he was the boss.
“That will certainly simplify things,” he thought aloud, “I'll just tell everyone else that the meeting has been postponed a week and give them all a free dinner.”
Groundride grinned mischievously at the sudden position of great power he found himself in, being the CEO of some random technology company and all. He leaped out of bed, his bare feet making a satisfying “thuf” sound as he landed on the floor. Stepping into a pair of worn out shoes he made his way to the door that led through the wall separating his bedroom from the rest of the warehouse he lived in.
When he entered the main floor of his warehouse he did the same thing he’d done every morning since he’d gotten this place. Passed out. Coming to several minutes later, Groundride gazed doubtfully at the collection of cars his warehouse contained. He looked at his Ferraris: a 308 and an f40. He looked at an incomplete track Mclaren that he’d temporarily halted work on. He grinned at his Datsun 510 and his Nissan 2000gtr. Then he beamed at his absolute favorite section, the Porsches: a 944, a 993, a 996 gt3 rs, and his newest toy, the pinnacle of all things wonderful, the Carrera GT.
If this was a dream, he would probably kill himself promptly after waking up by driving his 1991 Mercury Tracer into a wall.
The Tracer was there too, in a far corner of the warehouse. It was the car he took on dates until he was certain that the girl wasn’t a gold digger, or whatever the appropriate term for money-hungry-bitch was.
Seeing as he had some free time, Groundride decided to take the CGT down to the Feroci garage to see who was going to be around a bit later for some races or something. He was a bit uneasy still about racing the Carrera so he would probably just hang out and maybe go out for a few quick solo runs to get used to the awkward clutch on the thing.
He opened the garage door nearest the car that would more than likely kill him and went on his way. The Carrera GT was black in a horrible attempt to be slightly less flashy so that it might take longer for some gentleman walking down the sidewalk to notice it and give it that “habbada…. I thought those only existed in magazines” look and stumble into a ditsy blonde, also distracted, gawking at the car(for a completely different reason), walking in the opposite direction.
(now present tense!)
Groundride doesn’t like to draw attention to himself, but he likes really fast cars more than he dislikes attention, so he gets the cars and deals with it.
Finally making it to the Feroci garage, Groundride finds Uzer and OZ tinkering under OZ’s Mirage, surely doing some modification that is both legal and safe.
“Where is everybody?” asks Groundride.
“Hmm.. not sure,” seeps out from under the Mirage, “but Diesel left the rarri’ here, so we’re keeping it.”
“Sounds fair. Any chances of some racing going on later?”
“Many chances, some of the folks from Feroci Europe and Feroci America are flying in later so your story can have more to it.”
“Great, wanna go get some lunch?”
“It’s
“…AND?!”
“Dup should be here in a few minutes, then we’ll go. Maybe.”
With coincidental timing rivaling that of an 80s action movie a pink s2000 downshifts to first outside and screams briefly into the garage space next to Groundrides CGT.
“Hello!” Groundride shouts over the still idling Honda.
“Aye”
“I thought you flew in, how’d you get your car here already?” Groundride finished awkwardly loudly as the car had been shut off at “get.”
“I used my massive muscles to toss it here!”
“Good aim.”
“Thanks. Sexy Carrera, wrong color. Where is everybody?”
Rolling out from under OZ’s car Uzer grinned, “Some people just cannot cope with how sexy Feroci is, so they leave while no one is looking. Intimidated I guess.”
****time goes by, people show up, lunch is eaten, evening hits the sky making a slighty discomforting “cla clunk, grrrrurrzzzaaa… pa!” sound. Or maybe that was a ricer in the distance trying to drive a standard. Races draw nearer, nearer, nearer still..****
Dense crowds begin building up near the Feroci garage, as they seem to do when people suspect racing. How they knew to show up is questionable, seeing as no races had been announced or even confirmed at this point. It was confirmed now. Dense crowds are only a disappointment away from being angry mobs, and no one likes an angry mob.
Groundride decides that he’s had about enough not driving for the moment and takes the Carrera out to “check for bad road conditions and/or hiding police” (read “drive really fast”).
Back at the garage the usual happenings are happening. Various renditions of Gran Turismo were being played. GT-1 was showing people the results of his “accidentally” leaving his GT3 at the RUF factory in Pfaffenhausen
With another instance of exceptionally odd timing Groundrides CGT screams past the garages parking lot sounding like an f1 car running late to a race as it nearly hits a few spectators trying to give a warm welcome.
“f*ck!” murmurs a Groundride who’d been caught up in the drive, completely missing his turn.
He slams on the brakes from 200+ miles per hour straight to 30ish in mere seconds, turns to the left, flicks the e-brake for moment while simultaneously shifting to second and placing the accelerator comfortably back on the floor(where it spent most of its time) creating a subtle whirling cloud of smoke around the back tires as the half a million dollar super car flings around 180 degrees and jets back to its garage space for the night. Warily, not wanting to get out, Groundride opens the door and gets out.
“So, how are the roads?” asks Dal as he finishes setting up the fuel curves in his RS200.
“Err… uhh… right, the roads… pretty good. Looks like they’re getting read for some road work, slalomed through some highway cones that were set up. Crews aren’t out yet though, so its not a problem…”
“Police?”
“Didn’t see any.”
“Excellent, 92f and GT-1 are about to get their race on, should be good.”
In the garage 92f and GT-1 are warming up their engines in an automotive symphony that makes the hair on the back of any car enthusiasts neck stand straight up as if trying to peer over that pesky head to see what’s making that beautiful noise.
Finally, they crept to the onramp. In a fury of beautiful engineering and driving the two heavily modified Porsches shot off onto the “track” in a battle of the last of the air-cooled 911 vs. the best of the current water cooled variety of the car. The gt3 takes the early lead with the 993 not far behind but can it hold it? Maybe.
Coming up on the first of many hard corners 92fs lighter, more tuned for tight tracks, 993 starts to gain and passes GT-1 on the inside nearly hitting a police car that shouldn’t be on the “track.” A police car?! Sunuvabitch! This just got more interesting.
The shaken officer fumbles around in his car until he finds the switch for his lights and proceeds to take pursuit of the GT3. Running the plates before the monster pulls fully out of sight he finds out that the vehicle is registered to an “Elvis Presley.” Feroci has connections at the DMV.
Knowing his chances of catching either of the race bred Porsches quickly disappearing in front of him, the officer radios ahead to get some back up. Much like in The Blues Brothers movie, all of the police cars crash into one another in a hilarious pile up that makes this story easier to end.
After recovering from their separate but equal fits of laughter, our heroes are back on track. Through the final segment of the race 92f and GT-1 are staying relatively neck-and-neck.
“Zoooommm, bwaaaaaa, graaaaaaa, vrrrrrrrrr...”
After several minutes of making these types of sounds in his now parked car, an excited GT-1 emerges. Excited for good reason of course. He'd just won... a few minutes ago.
*PS.: I was going to have dal and eddy race here, since they both have rally-type cars.. then there was going to be another race.. but i didn't get that far, 4 pages in word was enough. *Publish
Wake Up / Part One
by Maceo
A groggy, hungover Maceo crawls out of the liquor bottle he had called home for the past several weeks. Destroying an NSX worth nearly 400 grand has a tendency to do such things to people.
He walks into his living and hits the button on the answering machine. "DAMN!" he exclaims. 45 minutes and nearly 150 deleted messages later, he finally gets up and grabs a bowl of cereal from the kitchen. After catching the last few minutes of Sportscenter, he hops in the shower, shaves, and puts some some clothes and steps outside.
The Pearlescent orange/red paint of his BB gleams brilliantly in the sun. "At least I still have you," He thinks to himself. He presses the button on the keychain to open the shaved driver side door and hops in. The sound of 2GGZE Celica engine and supercharger coupled with a catback exhaust and a heavy foot is enough to send shivers up the spine of a neighbor standing across the parking lot. After a few revs, he lets the needle drop to idle, and finally cuts it off. Before getting out of the car however, he spots a roll of papers under the passenger seat, and puts it under his arm as he goes back inside.
His interest piqued, he checks out the papers and is astonished at what he sees, apparently, he had been planning to replace the nsx all along, and the drafts were of the car he was planning to build. "Sh*t! I gotta get back!" he thinks in his head. With that, he goes online and starts searching priceline for a reasonable fare to japan.
Revenge And The Awakening
by .59
11:00pm. Feroci Garage.
Tonight just doesn’t feel the same way. I don’t know what it is... the air... the police... who knows...
some things never change though. And that's the fact that there's some battling within the ranks, as usual. Today GT-1 has his turbo kit installed. And groundride has his 993 in working order... I wonder how that's going to turn out...
they both get into their respective cars and rev the engines. It’s rare to see two Porsches racing AGAINST each other... and even rarer to have them on the same team... so this is a bit of a treat for the spectators.
The two cars move slowly through the crowd to take their places at the onramp. Two low-pitched boxer engine notes pierce the somewhat quiet night and they rocket off onto the wangan to decide who has the best tuning. 2 engine notes rise and fade into silence.
Back on ground level in front of the garage, Dal is making fun of Maceo's bB and the questionable women entering and exiting it. He then makes fun of his goofy driving. And Maceo promptly reminds him of the painful scorching he acquired last time the two raced.
This once again pushes Dal over the edge. "I bet your diesel-ass car won’t beat me today." "Oh really? 500000 yen says it will." says Maceo. "Consider it a race." Dal retorts. “Just give me a hour."
"what's that about my ass now?" diesel asks. "A loud resounding "nothing" is heard, and he goes back to racing against zap in GT3.
11 minutes pass and groundride returns, victorious, with GT-1 just after him with a red-hot exhaust, somewhat-charred rear bodywork, and a speeding fine thanks to an undercover cop in an RX-7. OZ's just waiting for a race to take part in to unleash the power of the 6G72 in the newly unveiled mirage.
but.
That strange feeling is still there and he decides to chill out for tonight's races. He puts the cover back on the car, and goes into the shop to poke at the wankers playing GT3.
A pitch black aristo pulls up... its pav, and he brought stef. French books and notepads pour out of stef's side of the car and he retrieves them before going inside to join the little GT3 tournament that's forming.
More people fill the lot as
That gets a little trite as a few people are dominating, so the party heads outside for a little parking lot drifting. It’s darker than normal tonight... I’d attribute it to the clouds hanging overhead though. But that shouldn’t hinder the drifting any. A few ricers pull into the lot with their neon underglow, NawZ stickers, 21-inch wheels, loud music, even LOUDER paint, and too many other tasteless goodies to mention. The leader of this group of misfits is called the nostril. His car has every part his underlings are using, PLUS a 450ps engine. Over on his side of the bay, he's like a god.
I mean... noone else has an imported civic coupe with a supercharged H22A with teh NawZ. So he's unrivaled. He beats Porsches and other high-dollar sports cars on the regular.
"Yo, I’m the best driver, I know this... well... because I am." says nostril. "And none of my buddies seem to disagree. I’m a good driver"
this loud-ass civic, with loud-ass paint, loud-ass music, and a driver wearing the loudest yellow shirt ever sticks out like a sore thumb once he leaves the area his clique has decided to occupy.
He walks over to the garage, since that seems to be where all the action is. While making his way over, there is a path forming for him to walk down. It seems all these people respect him... I mean... this is what happens in his area wherever he goes. But in this instance the people seem to be looking a little harder than normal and then whispering to their neighbors. Maybe they be liking his raw gear, yo... whatever it is they're getting the f...well... you know.. out of his way. He reaches the garage and knocks on the door. "I hear you guys race." "I race too. I’m a really good driver too."
there are 2 R31s in the lot and he decides to make them his targets for the night.75's busy with the GT3 tourney, so lys has to smack this guy up.
Looks like nostril had another loud attribute... that cologne's so thick, you can damn-near see it.
Has this guy ever heard of tone it down?
Nostril then makes his way back to the shop. "Who’s the fastest around here?!" he yells, commanding attention.
Nostril’s sitting in his car dangling his legs out the window with the music turned up loud. His little group (15 guys) has drawn some attention now. They’ve synchronized their CD players and they're all playing the same song. And you guessed it. It’s LOUD. The guys with the airbag suspensions are dancing their cars to the beat, and there's neon and strobe lighting illuminating the area. It looks like an outdoor nightclub over there. They know how to put on a show, I’ll give them that much.
By now the crowd has doubled. Looks like some people called out their friends. "If you guys lose to this dude, you're OUT" uzer reminds them. "Not something you need to worry about" they both reply.
They both hop into their cars. And Maceo was expecting the supra...
not today.
Dal’s cherry red NSX makes Maceo think for a short while, but he regains his confidence quickly. His car beats Mclarens.
The two put their silencers in so as not to scare off nostril and his crew on the drive over to their area on the lot. The 3 cars are all sitting there. Maceo’s legendary NSX, Dal's mysterious NSX, and... Nostril’s well... riced... civic. the two explain the rules of the race to the newcomer and everyone shows the amount of money they agreed on earlier. The money is entrusted to zap today... he now has 1.5m yen in his possession... that's a pretty hefty chunk for just ONE race. They explain that it's going to be a long distance race on this outing, the 30km run. Nostril agrees, and they get back into their cars.
Dal and Maceo now remove their silencers and nostril revs his civic... it's the loudest note of them all... but it sounds like something's broken. A 5-inch tip does nothing for acoustics...
Maceo and Dal are careful not to rev too high above idle so as not to scare nostril off. He continues bouncing his car off the limiter as they cruise up the on-ramp. They reach the freeway and nostril hits the juice and speeds off. Dal and Maceo are both still revving low and keeping up the facade that they're slow.
By now nostril has a truly massive lead, a bit over 8 km. he cranks up his music and makes a call to his buddies telling them about how he won the race and put down 2 MORE NSXes. Seeing as his car is loaded with electronics, he can actually transmit video to prove he's right.
This video is being projected up onto the side of feroci's garage and everyone's surprised at his speed... it's not every day a civic tops 310 km/h.
Nostril’s cruising along with the music blaring, and 2 pairs of headlights creep up on him about 20km into the race. He’s not looking in the mirrors, he's too busy dodging trucks and late night traffic for that. AND he has to figure out how he's going to spend his 1,500,000 yen that he's going to acquire soon.
Another few kilometers pass, and the headlights are closer, but accompanied by some noise. Again, it's disregarded because there's more important stuff in front of him, besides... noone can catch a car going THAT fast, and with THAT kind of lead.
This time only one km passes. The headlights and sound are closer... and noticeable. 2 NSXes are weaving back and forth behind him and he sees headlights dancing in the rear view.
And they're still getting closer. Nostril plants it harder and gives the nitrous one last squeeze. He takes one hand off the wheel and waves at the mirror while he presses the nitrous button on the steering wheel. "buh-bye" he says in the music-dampened cabin.
But what's this?! He’s used his nitrous... but they're still gaining. He looks down at his dash readout and sees he's gained speed. He’s now doing 337km/h and the rev needle's awful close to the redline.
The NSXes gain even closer, now they're so close their engine notes are causing a rumble in his car.
They then rip past at over 370km/h on either side of him with no signs of slowing down. The cars are going so fast that when they go past nostril's civic, the turbulence makes his car jump 5cm off the ground. It comes back down and there's a carpet of sparks as the car bottoms out. And puts a flat bottom on that big-ass ricer-can exhaust. All this is transmitted back to the garage where the crowd jumps up and roars at the display of speed they're seeing.
The two NSXes are now fading off into the distance still accelerating. Dal’s in 5th, Maceo's in 6th, Dal shifts up to try to catch Maceo whose in front and his exhaust spits a yellow flame as he momentarily lifts to shift. Maceo is slowly being reeled in, and Dal is thinking only of passing him. With a press of the accelerator, Dal pushes into the lead, and pulls away slightly.
A dark vibe passes over nostril and there's a bright gleam in the mirror. Everything flashes white and he loses focus for an instant as his car is once again rocked by turbulence.
But where from?
All that's in front of him is nothing.
The people outside the garage saw something though. For a split second there was what seemed to be a metal-dotted black outline in sight.
What could that have been?
Dal and Maceo soon see this same gleam and hear what sounds like the cry of a weeping apparition from behind. They’re both nearing 398km/h and that horrible wail is getting closer.
"what the f*ck?!" Maceo thinks as he hits the 400km/h mark."
This... just... isn’t... possible."
Dal presses the accelerator harder in an attempt to escape the sound. An eerie light flashes over the two NSXes as the clouds pull away to reveal a full moon.
Now that Dal's flooring it he passes Maceo and is nearing 410 km/h
with the moon now illuminating the freeway, the origin of that noise is now clearly visible. It’s a dark vehicle with some sort of... mask on it.
The car gets closer. And the headlights go off. But it's too late now. With only 3km left in the race Dal's in front, with Maceo following closely, that ghost? Car closing in and nostril trailing pathetically behind.
Both NSXes rip forward at 415+km/h.
The dark car seems to accelerate out of nowhere and shoots off into the distance, fading into nothingness... a speck on the horizon. Only leaving a glimpse at the rear end for a short while.
If WE'RE doing over 415, he must have been doing close to 450... But how... it looked like any other NSX...
looks can be deceiving.
842ps... 3.8-liter single turbo V6... in a car that only weighs ~855kg...
not any other NSX. Suzaku. The weeping apparition.
This shook all the participants in the race, but noone ever told of it, because they weren’t even sure THEY had seen it.
Dal and Maceo stopped at a rest area and discussed options.
They decided, noone else needed to know of this and returned as normal.
Maceo congratulated Dal on his revenge... err... victory, and nostril never finished the race. He just turned around and came back. The night ended as it normally would... with everyone in .59's garage stall playing DDR.
But... wasn’t he gone earlier? nah... coincidence... yeah. That’s what it was. Just pure coincidence.
Nostril arrived back at the lot around 2a as all the confused viewers and participants were leaving.
And everyone left with one thing on their mind. That ghostly black flash.
