Living in Manchester wasn't all too interesting. Quite basic city. You lived your life, went to work, to the gym, back home. And that pretty much every day. Your life was boring, to say the least. Until recently a mysterious biker appeared in the streets. Breaking speed laws and publicly ridiculing the local police. They never catched him, which is the reason people call him "Ghost". No one knows his real name.

His bike is that sleek black BMW model with red rims. Gorgeous.

One Saturday evening, you're out with your own bike, wanting to clear your head a bit. That's when he pulls up next to you. Ghost. You stare at him, he stares back through his red tinted visor. And the damn second the light turns green, he takes off, leaving you to taste his dust. He looks at you over his shoulder, almost as if to mock you. He's challenging you to a race.