Snippet #2768224

Adrenaline was going strong, and the vivid memories of the recent race weren't lost on the Taiyou man as he pulled his car down a side street through Niihama city. The beat of electronic music filled the interior of the car, and Takashi was lost in his own thoughts, while he was bringing the car through a crowded intersection.

Takashi turned over towards his passenger, who was clasping the title to their new vehicular acquisition. The 'pink slip' or the vehicular registration was fluttering in the Ten-shi GTR's air conditioning vents.

Takashi revved the engine hard once more, his arms turned the wheel, and the car pulled into an alleyway, it's brilliant white-blue high-intensity discharge headlights illuminating the dark, tepid alleyway, and the roll-up doors to the garage.

'Takashi's auto repair'

It was Takashi's birthday, and he was looking forward to the cake, and booze that his enforcer, Jyunichi had prepared for them. They were planning on a big party, and the anticipation was building as the man grinned widely. Putting the car in park, revving the motor once more, reveling in it's angry roar, he turned over to his companion, Yusuke Suzuki, a young man just out of high school. He nodded back to Takashi, before placing the car's registration back into the glove compartment. Takashi chuckled, and took a swig of beer that had been sitting in the center console.

"Hell of a race, wasn't it, Suzuki!" Takashi called out, throwing the driver door open. "Fuck yeah! Those goons don't have shit on our turf! we own the sector one run!" Suzuki held up his own beer, the can glinting in the street light. The pumping of the techno beat increased in volume, but both Yakuza stopped for a moment.

The door to their shop looked like it was busted, the door knob broken, and hanging loosely from the door.

"Shit!" Takashi hissed, directing his boy, Yusuke to the trunk of the car.

Moving quickly, Takashi inserted the key into the lock with a thunk, and opened the trunk. Inside was a collection of weapons, mostly handguns, a few assault rifles, and a shotgun.

Takashi grabbed the shotgun, and racked a double-ought buckshot shell into the reciever, while Suzuki preferred a small, fast firing submachinegun.

They moved to either side of the door, and Takashi grimaced.

He was going to put down whoever had broken into his shop.