Robert woked up as the train approached the race track. It seemed like he dozed off on the way here. Now one perk of the mask was that he wasn't drolling all over the place. His HUD showed him the time and the race track as he straightened himself. Another perk of the blasted mask. He stood up and looked around teh car as it was stopping at the station. The mask pinned every potential rivals and marked their danger levels along with their cars and their specs. Everyone from now on is an enemy. Anastasia had an especially interesting car. A moon rover. It will be interesting to see how it stands the course. Robert waited for a fewminutes as teh others left, checking all the data on his HUD. The track was very simple, nothing like the tricky turns you need tot ake in a street race. Only one hairpin turn and nothing else. Midway through the analysis the drunken guy bumped into him. "There's a very big bounty on your head, gramps, If you end up being brutally killed in this promo race, best believe I'm taking credit for it." The guy went past, and the HUD refreshed the racer's data. [b]Jake Spencer, #31, Threat Level: Medium. Caution advised. Marked as potential target.[/b] Robert smiled and dismissed the message.

Once all the racers left he also left the train. There was no need to rush: the race was still minutes away to begin and the others will most likely try to show off. Amateurs. As he was going in he inspected teh crowd gathering around. Some started pointing at him in excitement, and others looked at him with suspicous gazes. He was a name in the racing community and even after many years of retirement people knew him well. Of course the ones he will be racing with are msotly too young to know him, but he didn't mind. The only ones who were important to him were his old crew mates. He murmured a quick prayer that his mates will see him race and win these games. 

AS he entered the starting line there was a huge mess of all the racers. Some were listening to music really loud, and others tried to overcome this beat by reving up their engines. Him? He didn't care. Only amateurs try to make sure they are in the middle of the attention. His car was standing between all the cars in all her beauty. Military grade reactive armor plates, custom V16 engine, Race Spec tires and bulletproof glass. The mortars on the side reflected the light and made sure everyone knew what they would be dealing with. If a race allows guns, he was sure to bring the best. But the real present of this amchine was still hidden in the chassis. He didn't want to scare away his racing partners. The 25mm chaingun turret was hiding in the palce of the back seat, ready to pop out as soon as the race started. 500RPM, sending bullets at any foes with the speed of 1 mach. The gun is used for naval warfare, but there is no issues bringing it to a race like this. Not many will be bale to survive this gun. Especially once this car gets up to speed, it will have no problem dealing with annoying brats.

As soon as he closed the door the sounds were completely muted. Robert flicked some switches and the lights came on with a avriety of tools that assisted the chain gun. Guidance for teh mortar system and the sort. The nitrous gauge was empty, and it stood more like an old relic than an actual part of the car. But who knows, maybe one day he will fill it up and use it again. Who knows.

The racers were all having their own hearts and minds time. The race wasn't worth dying for. This was to get sponsors so you could make your car specs better for next race. Of course the winner will get the best sponsors, no dount about that. And looking around it seemed like the fastest cars will rule this easy track. But as soon as trickier tracks come along, any car with more grip can easely get ahead of these fools. But Robert didn't mind not being first. His entire life was about being first on the tracks and thats what got him here, in this mask and car. So if he can't win the attention of racing companies, he will make sure that he cna get the attention of "less traditional" sponsors, like those selling weapons and the sort. That said, there was sure to be a large requests for him, as many companies will try to affiliate their names with his. We'll see. His face became numb for a second as the mask filled his veins with speed and other drugs to enchance his reflexes. He grabbed the well and revved the beastly V16 engine up to the max, so loud that glass and armor couldn't mute it down. "Heck yeah. You still got it baby. Let's show these pricks how the Gas Guzzlers really drive."