00.there was a time...

There was a time when the rules of the blacktop were clear.

Life, work, and the people who ruled the night—everything was simpler then.

Even the cars had a soul.

Tokyo was a rising metropolis, a proving ground for those who possessed the grit to survive it. A mechanic could open a small garage, work until his hands bled, build an honest car, and earn nationwide legendary status overnight. That era was forged on commitment and blood-brotherhood. Above all else, it was governed by an absolute, unspoken respect.

But the hands of the clock kept moving.

The loop is no longer sacred ground; the Wangan's asphalt is stained. The arrival of a cynical new age erased the old traditions and buried the unwritten laws of the highway. This new generation of drivers is ruthless, poisoning the culture with a desperate, reckless hunger for dominance. They are forcing a collision between the old guard and the new—a war that transcends time.

It makes you look back at how it used to be… before the world changed.