[h1][color=red][b][i]Mr Gimmick[/i][/b][/color][/h1] [h2][color=red][b]High-Octane Terror[/b][/color][/h2] "And done" Jake sighed, having finished the modifications for his car, "And now for a little test drive." The drone noted that S-Punk had left, so the coast was clear. Jake called the drone back and opened the garage door before jumping into the car. The vehicle sped off, while the door closed behind. Jake took for his direction the Ruststone Highway, a perfect place to test the car. There was some drivers in the highway, but it wasn't too crowded as of yet. The car performed fine, just like Jake had planned. "Maybe a little more speed..." Jake thought as he prepared to switch the gear, when something whizzed right past him. A motorcycle, no, two of them, driving side by side. They were black and yellow in color, and the drivers had yellox X:es painted on the backs of their motocross gear. "X-tremes..." Jake sighed in frustration. There were all kinds of weird gangs plaguing Ruststone, and one of the most reckless were the X-tremes. Bored teenagers desperately looking for excitement in life, you could see them doing all kinds of dangerous, and illegal, stunts, whether BASE jumping from a building or parkour through a factory in operation. This time they were apparently street racing in the highway. The regular drivers were trying to get away from the two motorcyclists, and their friends in the... modified Cadillac? "Oh, come on!" Jake grunted "Valhalla too?" The old man wearing a greaser outfit driving the Cadillac confirmed Jake's suspicion. Valhalla, an outlaw motorcycle club of old men who had escaped from nursing homes their families had abandoned them in. Not wanting to spend their days waiting for death, the retirees had decided to go out with a bang. In a way, Jake could understand what they were going through. The members of Valhalla were often underestimated, proving themselves from time to time at being strong and fast fighters. Explanations ranged from steroids to cybernetics, but Jake, being an old man himself, knew that elderly could be surprisingly powerful. Yet here they were, X-tremes and Valhalla, two of the fastest gangs in Ruststone, having a street race in the highway. Jake counted at least a dozen vehicles, cars and bikes, from each gang. In a way it was surreal, this parade of old and new. X-tremes drove modified sports vehicles, sleek, shiny, all painted in black and yellow, While Valhalla had brought choppers and cars from past eras, also modified to be able to compete with their modern counterparts. Two generations of rebels speeding through the fast lanes. Jake wasn't sure if this was a gang war or a simple combined street race. X-tremes and Valhalla tended to respect each other, mostly for the combined love for danger, but things could escalate. He might also have seen a crowbar or two, though they could have also been for protection against heroes. But even if they didn't attack each other and merely competed, things could turn dangerous. X-tremes were constantly risking their lives and Valhalla cared little for their own, but the commuters were in real danger. Jake pondered, how to act in this situation.