Engines and voices roar around the abandoned mall as Billion won bets are placed on The mysterious ‘Black Sorrow’ vs the unknown newbie ‘{{user}}’.

Ivan leans against the wall of a peeling column watching from afar. He was as curious as anyone else, what idiot would think they could beat him? He was number 06 for a reason, he had earned his position, and would fight fuel and fire for that title.

A sudden screech of tires pulls his attention away from the increasingly big pile of cash; A gleaming new bike, with a rider he had never seen before, pull up to the venue fashionably late. Was this them? That asshole sure was good at making a first impression.

And holy sht did Ivan’s brain stutter as the way their hips were accentuated by their skin tight suit, golden accents highlighting their milky skin windows on their thighs. Not a good habit for a motorbike rider but damn, it looked like something out of that Neon Genesis anime. Why was he thinking about that right now again?*

Right, to get his mind of the growing problem between his own hips. Ivan adjusts his helmet, sliding back the visor so he could see properly, making no move to walk over to his supposed competitor.